Chapter 3: Viral Outrage
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2
[What’s wrong with Marcus? How could he let a demon slip through?]
[Our beloved influencer even got hurt. Isn’t this neglect of duty?]
[My heart aches. There must be an explanation!]
[If Marcus can’t do his job, replace him as guardian!]
As soon as I turned on my phone, I was bombarded by a flood of comments from people online.
Even now, in the apocalypse, people still clung to their phones—scavenged and battered, always plugged into solar banks. Social media had survived the end of the world, somehow, and rumor spread faster than demons ever could. The phone vibrated so much it nearly slid off my chipped Formica table.
Last night, an army of one hundred thousand demons invaded.
The sky went black over the city limits. For hours, I cut through wave after wave. My uniform was in tatters, and my hands still trembled from the power I’d burned. I hadn’t slept a wink.
I fought them all by myself, but in the chaos, one small demon slipped past me.
It darted away while I was dispatching a giant brute near the water tower. By the time I realized it, alarms were blaring from Sector 7—an area that used to be old suburban homes, now full of city loyalists and, apparently, minor celebrities.
That demon broke into an influencer’s home. Fortunately, the city defense team responded in time and prevented further harm.
A team of rookies—mostly kids who’d never seen action outside the city—rushed in and neutralized the threat. They deserved credit, but no one would remember their names. Only my mistake would stick.
I thought the matter was over, but unexpectedly, the influencer posted about the incident on Instagram.
Her teary selfie, blood streaked down her cheek, went viral by dawn. "Almost died last night," the caption read. "Is anyone even protecting us anymore?" The city’s anger was palpable.
Just then, my phone buzzed.
It was Derek, captain of the defense team.
Derek is an SS-level ability user.
Younger than me, with a chip on his shoulder. Grew up idolizing the old superhero movies, always wanted to be the guy everyone looked up to. I respected his drive, even if he never quite knew when to stay humble.
I’m responsible for the border, fending off outside threats.
The defense team is responsible for the city’s interior, protecting our home.
"Marcus, return immediately for investigation."
As soon as the call connected, Derek’s displeased voice came through.
No hello, no preamble. Just that tone of authority—the kind of thing you hear in cop shows. I could picture him standing at the window of the HQ, scowling at the rain.
I frowned, sensing there was more to this, but decided to go explain last night’s events in person.
My gut told me this wasn’t just about a demon getting through. Something bigger was brewing. Still, I grabbed my jacket, left my coffee half-drunk, and headed for headquarters. In this city, you never dodge a summons from the Association.
Most importantly, based on my years of combat experience, I suspected the hundred thousand demons last night were only a vanguard.
I’d seen enough battlefields to know when an enemy was just testing our defenses. This wasn’t the end—it was the first move in a much larger game. We’d need every able body on deck, not infighting over a single mistake.
Within twenty-four hours, a large-scale invasion was highly likely.
I felt a chill down my spine, the kind that never lied. I hurried my pace, boots echoing on cracked pavement, determined to get the truth out before it was too late.
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