"Hi!!!"

A masculine voice suddenly rang out through the farm as a man finally stepped out from his hiding place with one hand raised high in the air in a gesture of surrender.

Darren and Ivy immediately turned toward the source of the voice.

The newcomer appeared to be in his mid-thirties. He was dressed in a crisp white shirt and a pair of short trousers that looked surprisingly clean despite the harsh conditions of the apocalypse. Covering the left side of his face was a black eye patch, giving him a somewhat mysterious appearance.

The moment Darren noticed him, his expression darkened.

"And who are you?" Darren demanded coldly as he raised his gun and cocked it without hesitation. "More importantly, why were you hiding over there?"

The man immediately lifted both hands higher.

"Easy there, buddy. No need for that." He chuckled nervously before flashing a wide smile. "My name is Desmond."

As he spoke, he reached up and removed the eye patch.

The instant he did, a severely damaged eye was revealed.

One of his eyes was completely red, swollen around the edges, and partially shut as though it had suffered a terrible injury long ago.

"Don’t mind the eye," Desmond said casually with a grin. "I hit it against something during the early days of the apocalypse. Never healed properly after that. Looks ugly, I know, but trust me I’m perfectly fine."

"Desmond..."

Ivy murmured under her breath.

For some reason, the name sounded incredibly familiar.

Her brows furrowed as she stared at him.

Why does he look familiar?

Where have I seen this face before?

The more she looked at him, the stronger the feeling became.

Meanwhile, completely unaware of Ivy’s thoughts, Desmond pointed toward their truck.

"I saw your vehicle parked outside," he explained enthusiastically. "Can I join your team?"

His smile widened.

"I know the group I am in only want cooperations to transport supplies while they give you part of the supplies, but I want something more permanent. I want to join your base."

His gaze moved between Ivy and Darren.

"You both look strong. You’ve got weapons. You’ve obviously survived this long for a reason. I think following people like you would be a good choice."

As he spoke, Desmond rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and folded his arms across his chest.

The movement immediately revealed something on both of his forearms.

A tattoo.

A black snake.

The moment Ivy saw it, her pupils contracted.

Her entire body stiffened.

The memories flooded back instantly.

Desmond Blare.

One of the ten legendary figures of the apocalypse.

A Half-Monster.

Ivy nearly gasped aloud.

It was him.

She remembered now.

In her previous life, Desmond had become infamous throughout the apocalypse.

He was cunning.

Greedy.

Manipulative.

And perhaps worst of all, completely unpredictable.

He had betrayed countless groups and sold information to enemy bases whenever it benefited him.

Rumors claimed he had even consumed human flesh whenever the monster instincts within him became too overwhelming.

His name alone was enough to make survivors nervous.

Eventually, after one of his rampages, he had been captured by a powerful survivor base and imprisoned for research.

A human possessing monster abilities.

A creature capable of maintaining human intelligence while wielding the powers of a monster.

People had considered him a living miracle and a terrifying threat at the same time.

Numerous bases had desperately wanted to study him.

Some hoped to understand the monsters.

Others hoped to discover a cure.

And now...

The man was standing right in front of her.

And that eye...

Ivy nearly scoffed.

What nonsense.

That eye isn’t injured.

It’s the result of your monster abilities, you liar.

Anyone who hadn’t experienced this world before would probably believe that ridiculous excuse.

Unfortunately for him...

She knew exactly who he was.

"You want to join my base?" Ivy finally asked, raising an eyebrow.

A faint mocking smile appeared on her lips.

"And why exactly would you want to do that?"

Desmond’s eyes immediately lit up.

"Yes!"

Without hesitation, he hurried forward before dropping to one knee in front of her.

The sudden action surprised even Darren.

"I do!" Desmond declared sincerely. "Captain, I promise I’ll be loyal."

He placed a hand over his chest.

"I don’t know why, but I have a feeling joining your base is the right choice. Everyone is busy creating teams and establishing bases, but none of them feel right to me."

His smile grew wider.

"Your base feels different."

"You want him to join us?"

Darren leaned slightly toward Ivy and lowered his voice.

His expression was filled with suspicion.

"I don’t think that’s a good idea," he whispered. "We literally just met him. We don’t know anything about him."

A smile appeared on Ivy’s face.

"I know what I’m doing, Darren," she replied calmly.

Darren frowned but remained silent.

Meanwhile, Ivy communicated with the system.

Help me scan him.

Ding!

{Running scan...}

{Scanning survivor information...}

{Name: Desmond Blare}

{Age: 35 Years}

{Loyalty: 59}

{Unable to unlock special attributes.}

Ivy narrowed her eyes.

Only fifty-nine?

The system bonus already increased loyalty significantly.

That means his original loyalty was incredibly low.

Probably around nineteen.

As expected.

You really are the same Desmond.

Cunning and difficult to trust.

Closing the system interface, Ivy turned away from him and resumed feeding the pigs as though he didn’t exist.

Several seconds passed.

Then a full minute.

Desmond blinked.

"...Captain?"

No response.

Ivy continued pouring feed into the troughs.

The pigs happily rushed toward the food.

Desmond’s smile slowly twitched.

"Captain?" he called again.

Still nothing.

Ivy completely ignored him.

The corners of Desmond’s lips began twitching.

His face gradually turned red.

Veins appeared slightly on his forehead.

"What exactly does that mean?" he asked, forcing out a smile. "Are you accepting me or not?"

Silence.

The only sounds were the pigs eating and the wind blowing across the farm.

Desmond clenched his fists.

His patience was rapidly disappearing.

"Can you at least answer me?" he demanded, irritation leaking into his voice. "Don’t you think it’s rude to ignore people when they’re talking to you?"

Ivy continued feeding the pigs without even glancing in his direction.

Inside, however, she was smiling.

As a Half-Monster, your emotional control is terrible.

Especially your anger.

Let’s see how badly you want to join my base.

Can you stay calm?

Can you suppress your monster instincts?

Or will you lose control and expose yourself?

Desmond’s breathing became heavier.

The irritation in his eyes grew stronger.

Finally, he snapped.

"What the hell?!" he shouted furiously. "The least you could do is answer me! How am I supposed to know what to do if you won’t even speak?!"

His temper completely erupted.

Without thinking, he stormed toward Ivy and reached out a hand.

Unfortunately for him...

That was a mistake.

Before his fingers could even touch her...

BAM!