Apocalypse : Transmigrated With Milf System

The lower floors clung to the last vestiges of daylight filtering through grimy windows, casting long, distorted shadows.

The air hung heavy, thick with the musty scent of decay and a stale, undisturbed dust that coated every surface.

Ruel moved with a practiced silence, his senses stretched taut, a primal alertness honed by the constant threat of this ravaged world.

Each footfall was deliberate, each glance a swift assessment of his surroundings.

Then, the silence shattered.

A wet, thudding impact resonated from the ground floor, followed by another, and another, each sickeningly regular.

"The fuck...?" Ruel muttered under his breath, his brow furrowing. This wasn't the aimless shuffle, the mindless moaning of the usual infected.

This was purposeful, violent. A flicker of dark curiosity ignited in his eyes.

Rounding the final bend of the stairwell, the ground floor hallway stretched before him, bathed in the weak, filtered light of the late afternoon.

And there they were.

"Raaawhh!" A cluster of at least four, maybe five, of the infected were pressed against the heavy metal door of the building's main entrance.