"How dare you—! Let go of me!!"
"Please, calm down already!!"
"You stupid idiot! You want me to calm down after what just happened?!"
"But your nose is already bleeding…"
"Hahahahahaha!!!"
A loud, mocking laugh abruptly cut off the argument between the two. Both of them immediately turned toward its source.
What greeted them was a face twisted in ridicule, lips stretched into a taunting, almost playful grin.
"Your companion's right," the boy sneered. "Your nose is bleeding badly, yet you still want to charge at us. So tell me—who's really the idiot here? Is it her… or are you just dragging others down with you?"
He burst into laughter once more, joined by the jeers of those standing behind him.
Koi merely stared at him with hardened eyes, her expression tight with restrained fury. Beside her, Shan could not hide her worry, her gaze constantly flickering back to her bloodied face.
In the middle of their escape, they had successfully taken control of the shuttle bus they were riding. Yet in their current situation, it was painfully clear that monsters were not their only enemies.
Their true threat also came from within—older students who had effortlessly boarded the vehicle amidst the swarms of creatures outside, and who were now openly enjoying themselves by tormenting their fellow passengers.
"Koi, it's better if you don't provoke them for now," Shan whispered urgently. "You need to calm down first and stop the bleeding from your nose. If you don't, that might end up being what kills you."
"And this is not the time for you to worry about me," Koi whispered back sharply. "How many times do I have to say it? I can handle myself. What we really need to deal with is getting those people out of our faces."
With that, she lowered herself onto the floor, allowing her body a brief moment of rest despite the tension coiled within her.
"They're bad news," she continued quietly. "Just look at them. We escaped the monsters, sure—but we can't say we're safe as long as they're here."
She subtly gestured toward the group of older students who seemed to have nothing better to do than make others cry, deliberately inflicting fear and pain for their own amusement.
Shan cast them an irritated glance. For her, this was not yet the right time to intervene. Especially since they were still dangerously close to the area they had just escaped from.
"I know that," Shan replied softly. "But that doesn't mean you should act while you're in that condition. Look, we won't accomplish anything if you're like this. Believe me, I'm just as pissed at what they're doing. But it's better if we make a plan first… a proper way to kick their asses."
As she spoke, Shan turned fully toward Koi and gently wiped the blood from her nose using her thumb.
The girl clearly hadn't expected that. No one ever dared touch her because of her severe phobic reactions. Yet strangely, she felt nothing, no panic, no shock, perhaps because it happened too suddenly, or because she was too exhausted to react.
"Now, now, enough with the drama."
A stranger's voice cut through the air, drawing everyone's attention.
"Did you all forget that we're in the middle of danger? Shouldn't our only concern be the monsters outside?"
"And what exactly do you mean by that, Mark?"
The question was simple, yet irritation seeped through the speaker's tone.
"What I mean, Master, is that this isn't the right time to feel safe," Mark replied calmly.
His answer, however, clearly displeased the man he addressed. The so-called master shot him a sharp glare and stepped closer.
Surprisingly, there was no fear or hesitation in Mark's posture. He stood calmly in front of the master, meeting his gaze without flinching.
"So," the master said slowly, "are you saying my strength isn't enough to crush those monsters? Is that what you're implying, Mark?"
"That's not what I'm saying at all, Master," Mark answered casually. "You're completely misunderstanding my point."
The audacity of his response sent a wave of shock through the others. Some of them stiffened in fear, unable to believe how boldly Mark spoke back.
Damn it, Mark… you're dead, one of them thought as they noticed the master struggling to restrain his anger.
"Oh? Really?" the master said coldly. "Then you'd better explain yourself clearly. Or else…"
"Hahaha, easy… Leo," Mark said lightly. "All I'm saying is that this isn't the right place to let our guard down. We're still in the middle of the road. It would be smarter to stay alert until we reach a safe location."
Silence fell over the group.
A few seconds later, another voice timidly joined in.
"H-he's right, Master," one student stammered. "I-I think Mark makes sense. E-especially since the bus doesn't look like it's in good condition… and there are still flying monsters outside. I-it's probably best if we stop making noise for now."
Faced with growing agreement, the master finally relented. With a sharp exhale, he turned away and returned to his seat.
"Fine," he growled. "Since we're not at our destination yet, you'd all better shut your mouths. Or I'll throw you off this bus myself. Do I make myself clear?"
His voice was filled with barely contained rage as he glared at everyone around him.
The students who had been crying and screaming moments ago immediately fell silent, fear gripping their throats. Meanwhile, Leo sat in his place, thoughts churning quietly in his mind.
'Mark, you bastard… if you weren't useful, I'd have already erased you from existence,' his jaw tightening as he shot the boy another venomous glare.
Mark merely leaned back, maintaining that same infuriatingly relaxed posture—as if the leader's hostility never even reached him. He was long accustomed to Leo's temper. More than that, he knew the truth: Leo wouldn't touch him. Not while he was still useful.
But the tension inside the bus continued to climb.
No one spoke.
No one moved.
Fear settled heavily in the air—thick, almost suffocating. They had escaped the swarm of monsters outside, yet not a single soul felt safe. Not with Leo's group treating the other survivors like disposable toys. Not with the echo of cruel laughter still lingering in their ears. And certainly not with the bus swallowed by pitch-black silence, surrounded by the unknown.
Koi sat slumped against the wall near the back door, her breathing uneven. The bleeding from her nose had stopped, but the fire in her eyes had not. From across the aisle, she watched Leo's crew—their smug grins, the way they nudged one another and laughed as if they hadn't stared death in the face just moments ago.
Shan crouched beside her, one arm subtly braced in front of Koi, protective without being obvious.
"We should've kicked them out earlier," Koi whispered, her voice low and sharp. "We could've left them behind."
Shan frowned. "I know."
"They weren't trying to help," Koi muttered. "They just didn't want to walk."
Shan didn't argue. Because she agreed.
Leo and his gang, Mark included, were dangerous. Unpredictable. Armed. They weren't the kind of people you wanted trapped in a confined space—especially not in a situation like this.
And then—
THUD.
Every body stiffened.
There it was again.
A sudden, heavy impact against the roof of the bus. Not the wind. Not an animal.
Heavier. Intentional.
The students near the front straightened, eyes snapping upward toward the metal ceiling. No one dared breathe too loudly.
"…What was that?" someone whispered.
Mark stood.
"Something landed on the roof," he said quietly as he moved toward the front, his gaze fixed upward.
"We're not alone anymore," Koi muttered, her fingers tightening around the broken chair leg she had grabbed earlier for protection.
Another thud followed. Then—
A metallic scrape.
Long. Slow.
Like claws dragging across steel.
"Driver, stop the engine," Mark said firmly. "If that thing hears the ignition, it'll come straight down."
"So what—" one of the students choked out, "—we just sit here and wait for it to break in?!"
Another scrape—louder this time.
Leo finally rose to his feet, gesturing sharply at two of his men.
"Get ready. We strike if it comes in," he ordered. "But no one panics unless I say so."
As if on cue, the bus lights flickered once—
Then died.
Click.
Darkness swallowed the bus whole.
Several students gasped. Others pressed themselves against the walls, gripping whatever weapons they had—makeshift bats, broom handles, bent metal rods. Fear pulsed through the cramped space, raw and unmistakable.
The sound returned above them—dragging claws—followed by a dull thud near the emergency hatch on the roof.
Koi's heart hammered violently against her chest. Every instinct screamed at her to run.
But there was nowhere to go.
Suddenly—
SKREEEEECH—THUD!!
The roof hatch exploded inward.
A shape dropped into the center aisle.
And It wasn't human.