They moved quickly but silently, ducking beneath broken pipes and low ceiling beams, led by the dim gleam of Masaru’s flashlight—its beam flicking only when necessary, never too long.

J-in whispered, “We can’t outrun them forever—”

“Shh,” Masaru cut him off, holding up a hand.

Up ahead, a narrow gap in the tunnel wall opened into a larger space—a partially constructed chamber. Steel beams jutted from the walls like skeletal ribs. Scaffolding lined the edges. Bags of cement, rusted tools, and rolls of unused wiring littered the floor.

It was empty. Quiet. Abandoned.

Masaru slipped inside first, flashlight sweeping the space. “Here. We’ll wait it out.”

Everyone followed, moving quickly but cautiously.

They huddled in the darkest corner, behind a pile of tarps and stacked crates. The air smelled like dust and damp metal. Somewhere above, water dripped slowly… plunk… plunk… into a rusted bucket.

Sakura sat beside Kaito, her hands still trembling.

Yamada kept glancing at the tunnel entrance, jaw clenched.

Even J-in—usually the first to speak—remained quiet. The tension was too thick, the silence too loud.

They waited.

Breath held. Muscles tight.

Every shuffle of gravel made someone flinch. Every creak of settling concrete sounded like a footstep.

Then—

Masaru’s flashlight swept across a row of half-covered crates tucked against the wall. Curious, he approached and tugged away the plastic sheet.

Underneath—tools.

Real ones.

A mechanical saw. A power drill. A heavy-duty chainsaw—dusted and a bit rusted, but intact.

Masaru blinked. “Well… that’s something.”

J-in’s eyes widened. “Yo, are you serious? Is that a chainsaw?”

He scrambled over like a kid spotting candy, nearly tripping over the tarp. “Finally! Actual weapons! This is like, horror-movie gold right here!”

Yamada raised an eyebrow. “You planning to slice your way through a horde?”

“Bro, if it cranks up—yes.”

Masaru knelt beside the chainsaw, fingers running along the handle. He flipped the safety switch and gave the pull cord a hard tug.

GRNNK— cough. Nothing.

He pulled again.

Nothing.

J-in tried the drill next—clicking the trigger like it owed him rent. “Come on… come onnn—!”

It gave a weak whir, then sputtered dead. 

Masaru stood up, brushing his hands off. “No fuel. No charge. This stuff’s been sitting here for months.”

Kaito stepped forward, muttering under his breath. “Let me see that…”

He moved past J-in and knelt near the boxes, pulling out loose parts—wires, bolts, a cracked battery pack, a wrench covered in dried cement.

“Most of this is junk,” he said, pushing pieces aside. “But—wait.”

He dug deeper, his hands clanking against something metallic.

A smaller box. Sealed with tape and labeled in faded marker: ‘SPARES – LOCKED STORAGE’.

Kaito yanked the lid open and smirked.

Inside were two half-full fuel cans, a clean spark plug, and a smaller backup generator—dented but intact.

“Bingo.”

J-in perked up. “Yo!”

Masaru raised a brow. “That’ll give us a short window. Maybe enough to get one or two of these things running.”

Sakura crossed her arms. “You think that’ll help us fight?”

Kaito shrugged. “It’s better than empty hands.”

Yamada gave a cautious nod. “If the sound doesn’t attract more trouble.”

J-in grinned. “Then we slice fast and run faster.”

Masaru glanced toward the concrete hallway beyond the site.

Behind him, the faint clinks and clanks of metal echoed as Kaito crouched beside the generator, sleeves rolled up, brow furrowed.

“Just give me a second,” Kaito muttered. “This plug’s old, but I think I can get it to run.”

J-in leaned over his shoulder, eyes gleaming with curiosity. “You sure you know what you’re doing?”

“Better than you playing DJ with a radio,” Kaito shot back.

J-in raised both hands. “Fair.”

The others kept watch, scattered around the dusty construction site—Sakura near the wall, her arms wrapped around herself, Yamada sipping slowly from a nearly-empty bottle, silent but alert.

A spark.

Then a low grumble.

The generator coughed like it had just woken from the dead. A weak, flickering buzz of energy lit up a nearby floodlamp for half a second before dying again.

Masaru gave a short nod. “Good. Get one of those saws running. Keep it quiet.”

Sakura turned toward them. “What are we planning?”

Masaru’s eyes didn’t leave the hallway.

“Preparing. In case something finds us before we find a way out.”

Yamada leaned back against a concrete pillar, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“…Or in case we’re what something finds,” he murmured.

Masaru gave him a look. “That’s not comforting.”

“Didn’t say it was supposed to be.”

Kaito finally got the chainsaw upright, fingers gripping the recoil cord.

“Here goes nothing,” he muttered, yanking it hard.

RRRRRRRRR—CRACK!

A horrible grinding shriek burst from the machine, followed by a sharp pop! The saw jolted violently, sparks flying from the motor casing. Then… silence.

The sound echoed, loud and metallic, down the long concrete tunnel like a scream trapped in stone.

Everyone froze.

Even the dust seemed to pause in the air.

Sakura whispered, “You broke it?”

Kaito looked down at the smoking saw in his hands. “…It was already broken.”

J-in slowly turned his head toward the tunnel. “Yeah, but now everything knows we’re here.”

Masaru reached for the closest metal pipe, grip tightening.

Then… something moved from the backside of the hallway.

Footsteps. Wet. Uneven. Getting closer.

Kaito took a step back.

Sakura’s breath hitched. “No…”

Shapes emerged from the shadows—dozens of them.

Some were missing limbs, dragging bloody stumps across the floor.
Some had torn flesh hanging like melted wax.
Some were… naked, pale skin bruised and bloodied.
And some… were running.

The group froze.

Masaru turned slowly, checking behind them.
Nothing.
No exit.
Trapped.

“…We’re surrounded,” he muttered.

The infected shuffled forward—some groaning, some screeching, jaws snapping open as they charged.

Then—

“MOVE!” J-in shouted.

He grabbed a circular saw from the tool pile—somehow it hadn’t broken—and lunged forward with a wild yell.

RRRRRZZZZZZZ!

The blade screamed, slicing through the air—and through the neck of the first infected that lunged at him.

Blood sprayed. A head rolled.

J-in didn’t stop.

He spun, slashing another through the chest. Then another.
A wave of gore splattered across the ground.

“J-in!” Masaru shouted, stunned.

“WHAT?!” J-in yelled back, wild-eyed. “YOU SAID PREPARE!”

The others snapped out of their trance.

Masaru grabbed the metal pipe.
Kaito lifted a heavy wrench.
Yamada gripped a crowbar.
Even Sakura raised a broken piece of rebar, hands shaking.

Yamada glanced at everyone and let out a breath.

Yamada: “Are you guys seriously planning to fight?”

Everyone turned to look at him, tense and confused.

He gave a crooked smirk.

Yamada: “I mean, come on… do you really think we can survive this?”

J-in snapped. “Seriously?! You wanna talk about giving up right now?! Say that crap again and I’ll throw you to the front lines myself!”

But Yamada didn’t flinch.
Instead, he tilted his head slightly… and pointed behind them, toward a narrow corridor just past the scaffolding.

“No, idiot. I’m saying—we run. There’s a door. That way. Only four of them between us and the exit. Up those stairs… we might reach another level.”

Everyone turned sharply in the direction he pointed.

There it was—half-hidden behind rusted scaffolding and hanging plastic sheeting.

A steel door, streaked with faded yellow stripes, slightly ajar.

Just ahead of it—four infected.

One limped with a shattered leg, another crawled, leaving a smear of blood. The last two were upright, twitchy and alert.

“You sure that leads up?” Masaru asked, his grip tightening on a broken pipe.

Yamada didn’t blink.
“You got a better plan? Or wanna keep slashing till your arms fall off?”

There was a tense beat.

“I vote for door,” Kaito said, not even trying to hide his nerves.

“Let’s go. Now!” Sakura added, her voice thin but firm.

“Finally—someone’s speaking sense!” J-in muttered, gripping the dull circular saw like it meant something.

Masaru gave one nod.

But before anyone else could move, J-in lunged forward.

“Move your asses—I’m not dying in a damn tunnel!”

The circular saw whirred—barely at full power, but it spun just enough.

He slammed it into the first infected’s chest.
Splat!
Rotten flesh tore apart as the corpse staggered backward with a gurgling cry.

J-in didn’t stop.

WHRRRR!
He spun, slamming the saw into the next one’s neck, hacking halfway through. Blood sprayed the wall as the creature dropped.

Behind him—

Silence.

No one followed.

No one helped.

They were just… watching.

“Am I the only one here chopping these things up?!” he yelled, teeth clenched, face splattered with gore.

No one answered.

They didn’t need to.

J-in roared and tore through the last infected in his path—
WHRRR-CRUNCH!
The circular saw cleaved through skull and sinew like a butcher at closing time. Limbs fell. Blood pooled. And before long—

Silence.

Only the soft hum of the cooling saw, now dripping red.

He turned, panting. “You’re welcome.”

Sakura and Kaito immediately rushed to the door Yamada had pointed out.

Masaru didn’t say a word—he just helped brace it open while Kaito slipped inside.

CLANG.
They slammed it shut behind them.
CLACK.
Lock engaged.

The corridor beyond was narrow and grimy, but the air smelled cleaner—less rot, more damp steel and rusted dust.

A metal staircase spiraled upward through a shaft of concrete.

Masaru pulled out the crumpled metro maintenance map they found back at the store. He squinted, flashlight aimed.

“Looks like this leads up to Platform 3… an old maintenance walkway right above it,” he muttered. “It’s not much, but…”

“…but if the station’s powered, maybe the trains still run,” Yamada added, wiping the blood off his sleeve.

Sakura's eyes widened with a glint of hope. “A working train? You think that’s possible?”

Masaru shrugged. “Only one way to find out.”

J-in, still catching his breath, raised the saw like a trophy.
“Only if I’m not the one clearing the tracks again.”

They all started up the stairs—