Chapter 77: Transformation

A faint, metallic whisper cut through the arctic air from Theo’s side. Everyone turned that way instinctively.

Theo stood motionless, his right arm dangling at his side. Slender, pale fingers held five surgical scalpels clamped securely between his knuckles. The paper-thin blades caught the snowlight, flashing with lethal brilliance.

Without looking at anyone else, his eyes remained locked on the "little boy," a faint, cold smirk slowly curling the corner of his lips.

"Fascinating."

The boy’s desperate weeping stopped abruptly. The surrounding air froze solid.

Jack, Mitch, and Alex all widened their eyes in absolute shock.

The next instant, Theo raised his right hand, spread his fingers, and snapped his wrist forward with terrifying speed.

Whish-whish-whish-whish-whish!

Five silver streaks tore through the falling snow, moving with pinpoint, surgical precision.

Thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack!

Five scalpels embedded themselves sequentially into the child’s joint points and lower jawbone, slicing cleanly through flesh to anchor into the frozen turf beneath.

Left shoulder, right shoulder, left knee, right knee, and the jawline.

Five silver blades. Five critical coordinates. The accuracy was measured down to the millimeter, completely locking down every joint capable of generating momentum.

Pinned flat against the frozen earth, the "little boy" lay spread like an eagle, his jaw jammed wide open by the lower blade, rendering him incapable of uttering a single sound.

Then, the transformation erupted.

The smooth, porcelain-like face melted away like soft wax as sickly gray-green veins surged beneath the skin. The rag doll tumbled away into the snowdrifts. As the school uniform split open with a sharp tear, a hunched, gray-skinned monstrosity burst out from within—its limbs pinned firm by the scalpels, squirming helplessly on the ground like a snake with a shattered spine.

"Fuck!!!" Mitch launched himself backward two paces.

Jack’s face drained of every trace of color. "What... what in God’s name..."

Alex’s voice tightened nervously. "That was way too close. It almost latched right onto Ray."

Theo crouched down, looking down coldly at the twisting Skinwalker Demon. Reaching out, he pinched the handle of the scalpel embedded in its jaw, giving it a subtle, calculated twist.

The Skinwalker Demon let out a loud, ear-splitting shriek.

Theo smiled thinly. "Did a creature like you honestly think it could touch my test subject?"

Before his voice even settled, a heavy black shadow lunged from the side. Ray swung his right arm in a massive arc, bringing a hammer-like fist crashing down directly onto the Skinwalker Demon’s skull!

BOOM—!

The gray-green skull burst open like a rotten melon, splattering dark, thick blood across the snow.

Theo glanced down at the dark stain on his cuff, frowning slightly, but said nothing.

The creature went completely still.

Ray withdrew his fist, dark blood dripping from his knuckles. Shaking off the mess, he turned and strode back toward May.

May remained frozen on the spot, her grip on her coat collar still taut, her body strained to its limit. Ray scooped her up into his arms, locking his powerful forearms around her while resting his chin firmly atop her head.

He didn’t say a word, simply holding her tight for a long moment.

Squeezed against his chest, May could hear his heart hammering hard and fast against his ribs.

"You kicked that tin can..." Ray’s low voice vibrated through his chest, heavy with lingering dread. "You knew the truth all along."

May didn’t deny it, letting out a soft, muffled nod against his tactical vest.

Ray tightened his grip slightly, as if trying to merge her into his very bones.

"If you spot something off in the future, speak up directly," he rasped, his voice rough and deep. "I trust you."

May buried her face deeper into his chest. "I was afraid you wouldn’t believe me... Who would suspect a small child of being a monster..."

"If you say it’s a monster, then it’s a monster," Mitch chimed in as he walked over, draping his own heavy jacket over May’s shoulders, his voice still trembling slightly from the near-miss. "Damn it, that freak almost got a bite out of Ray."

Crouching beside the corpse, the seven-foot giant Jack quivered, his shoulders heaving as he repeatedly failed to hold back his tears. "I... I almost hugged it... If I picked it up, it would have ripped my neck open..."

"Alright, Jack, stop crying. It’s embarrassing." Alex patted his back, his own expression looking far from relaxed.

Meanwhile, Theo was already busy beside the creature’s remains. Extracting a collection tube and a dissecting scalpel from his pack, he expertly sliced into the Skinwalker Demon’s gland, drawing a tube of dark green fluid. Holding it up against the morning light, he watched as the liquid churned slowly within the glass like a living organism.

Theo’s brow furrowed gradually.

"Ray." He stood up, his tone shifting away from his usual nonchalance into a rare, solemn gravity.

Holding May close, Ray turned to look at him.

"The virus is mutating rapidly," Theo stated, holding up the sample tube. "The disguise fidelity of this Skinwalker Demon is higher than any specimen I’ve previously encountered. Furthermore, it possesses primitive cognitive evaluation—it selectively targets the strongest individual in a squad first."

He paused momentarily.

"Standard anti-inflammatory drugs are completely ineffective against this mutated strain. The wound on your leg, Ray, was suppressed with a specialized serum, but what happens if someone else gets injured next time?"

Ray’s expression turned grim.

"We must secure high-grade antibiotics and advanced medical gear for the team," Theo put the sample tube away and adjusted his glasses. "The nearest tertiary general hospital is located in the city center. We need to head there."

"The city center?" Mitch drew in a sharp breath. "The zombie density in the urban core is ten times higher than out here!"

"We don’t have to go," Theo replied evenly. "Next time someone gets bitten, I’ll just chant a prayer for their soul."

Mitch: "..."

Jack was the first to spring up, dusting the snow off his pants. "We’re going! I’ll clear the path!"