“Hiss—”

Alessia felt a faint ache in her left shoulder. Fabric tore with a sharp rip—a feat nearly impossible for bare human hands without a sharp tool.

Beneath the shredded cloth lay several diagonal yet parallel claw marks, deep enough to bite into flesh. Blood welled up instantly.

“You…”

She wasn’t shocked by her own wound. What stunned her was Kanata’s hand. Moments ago, an ordinary girl’s hand. Now—gray fur sprouted across the skin, tipped with claws nearly twenty centimeters long.

“Why didn’t you tell me…”

A tangled storm surged in her chest: anger, confusion, heartache—all twisting together.

Many hid their infection after catching the Killer Virus, gambling on false hope. Those “gamblers” all met the same end: death.

As Sovereign, Alessia had witnessed too many such tragedies.

Falling Cherry City’s biological research institute operated independently. Her authority held little weight there—the experts were dispatched by the World Alliance, formally the World Biological Research Alliance, to aid city-states.

Because the city relied on them, every infected resident had to be handed over to that so-called “most authoritative institution.”

No one who entered ever left alive. Survivors? Broken by experiments—bodies maimed, minds hollowed, reduced to empty shells.

She refused to let her teacher’s daughter suffer that fate.

“Telling you… would it have changed anything? I don’t believe a cold-hearted woman like you would ever help someone like me.”

Kanata was certain: this woman would never lift a finger. People in power loved to watch others struggle. To them, another’s pain was trivial. Always had been. Always would be.

“…”

Alessia fell silent.

Usually unshakable, she now felt panic clawing inward—seeing her childhood friend show signs of localized infection.

A Sovereign could shield the healthy. Not someone infected with the Killer Virus.

“Do you think you can fight the institute’s army like this? Kanata Himemiya, stop acting like you’re always right. You’re just a stubborn fool. Walk out that door, and I guarantee—you won’t see tomorrow’s sunrise.”

She pointed at the room’s door.

Beyond it lurked chaos. Bounty hunters hungry for reward money. Ignorant mobs venting wasteland-era rage under the guise of her father’s legacy. Experts craving live test subjects. Soldiers eager to earn glory by killing the infected…

Kanata hesitated.

She wanted to burst through—but Alessia was right.

“Yeah… you’re right. I’m powerless now. I just… wanted to earn a little more. Live a little easier. Is even that simple wish wrong?”

Who risks their life unless survival demands it?

Her eyes dimmed. She slid down the wall, gaze fixed on her transformed right hand.

Already a wolf’s claw. Soon… she’d become just like that werewolf.