In that place—
Quinn opened the door, paused for a moment, then turned back to Hazen and said, "I'm going out. You stay here. Don't even think about leaving. You should know that many people in the lower district are criminals. Someone like you... won't survive. Unless you want to go through awful things every night." Quinn didn't say the exact words, afraid it might trigger Hazen.
After saying this, she closed the door again and sat on the bed. Looking at Hazen, who was already backed into the corner and still trying to move further away, her eyes turned serious. "I'm sorry for what I did last night. I apologize. I will take responsibility. From now on, I'll protect you and take care of you until you don't need me anymore."
Hazen stayed curled up and didn't say anything.
Quinn didn't expect him to accept her so quickly. After a moment, she added, "Since we'll be living together, how about I call you 'baby'?"
The boy seemed disgusted and gathered up his courage to argue,
"Just... call me by my name, Hazen. Don't use that kind of name."
"Alright, Hazen, I'm heading out now. Remember, don't try to leave." After learning his name, Quinn turned to leave. But the name "Hazen" sounded familiar to her—she just couldn't remember where she had heard it before...
She stepped out, thought about it briefly, but couldn't figure it out. So she dropped the thought and pulled a lock from her bag, locking the door from the outside.
It was for Hazen's safety. What she had said earlier wasn't just to scare him. The chaos of the lower district was something Hazen probably hadn't truly seen yet. For someone like him—soft, delicate, and clearly from a privileged background—the path ahead was full of dangers. Quinn had already tried to use the gentlest words possible.
Another reason was the poor soundproofing in the building. Last night's crying probably reached every corner of it. That meant hiding the fact that she had a beautiful boy hidden inside her place wasn't possible anymore. And she didn't believe for a second that the residents of the lower district were law-abiding people who wouldn't try to sneak in while the owner was away.
Thinking of this, Quinn's eyes turned cold as she slowly walked toward the stairway at the other end of the hallway, glancing around at the nearby rooms.
Just as she suspected, one door was cracked open slightly, someone clearly watching to see when she would leave.
Without showing any emotion, Quinn kept walking. When she reached that door, she suddenly lifted her foot and kicked it hard, smashing it open.
Behind the door was a rat-faced woman with a sneaky look. She was thin and short, about 1.7 meters tall—just as Quinn had estimated from a glance earlier.
Quinn kicked the woman to the ground and began punching her head, yelling, "You dared to look? You dare look at what's mine?"
The woman cried out, begging non-stop, "I won't do it again! I just glanced last night!"
Quinn, who had held back at first, suddenly looked even colder and started hitting harder. Soon, the woman's head was bleeding. Quinn stood up and kicked her in the stomach, making her curl up in pain and scream.
Unmoved, Quinn took out a knife from her bag, yanked the woman's hair, and held the blade close to her eye. Her voice turned cold and threatening. "You looked at what's mine. How about I take these eyes from you?"
The woman was terrified, crying and snot running down her face, begging for her life.
"Ah!" Quinn suddenly stabbed the knife down—right next to the woman's ear, making her scream. When she realized her eye was still there, she collapsed in relief, completely broken.
Quinn stood up, looking down at the bloody mess on the floor. Her eyes were icy. "What's mine is mine. Only I can touch it. Only I can look at it. Anyone else who tries, I'll cut off their hands. I'll dig out their eyes. I don't care if I have to crawl—I'll drag anyone who lays eyes on what's mine down to hell with me. I, Quinn, mean every word I say."
Her voice echoed through the entire building, and for a moment, everything went silent.
Then Quinn crouched down again, staring at the blood-covered woman. "Last night, he wasn't mine yet. You saw him—so I'll let you off with a beating. But if you ever get any ideas again, I won't hesitate to crush your skull."
Coming from someone who had crawled out of a mountain of corpses, Quinn's eyes were filled with madness and bloodlust. The woman was so terrified she couldn't even speak.
Quinn didn't wait for a reply. She stood, grabbed her bag, and left without looking back.
It had to be paid for with human lives.
Two hundred years later, things finally started to change. After eating a lot of mutant beasts and plants, some humans began to develop supernatural abilities. Humanity finally had some power to fight back against the mutated creatures.
But unlike in Quinn's time, where zombies and ability users appeared at almost the same time, in this world, ability users didn't show up until two hundred years later. Because of that, humans were no match for the mutated creatures at first. They had no choice but to focus all their efforts on advancing technology, which led to the current boom in science and tech.
After all—
What if there's no food? Then make use of every bit of waste. Extract whatever energy can still be used from the leftovers—this is how nutrient solutions were created.
What if mutant beasts are too strong? If we can't beat them, then why not run? Can't escape on the ground? Then we fly in the sky—that's how hover cars were invented.
What if mutant beasts attack the cities? Other places are even more dangerous, and there's nowhere left to run. There's no choice left—