A cold coffee can crumpled with a metallic crack beneath Renjiro Tachibana's palm. The shaggy-haired young man tossed it toward the mini goal on the abandoned futsal court at the edge of Shinjuku. The clang of rusted metal echoed, tearing through the stuffy, sweltering afternoon silence.
To his right, Daiki Murata sprawled his tall body across the faded synthetic turf, twirling an empty Zippo lighter. On the other side, Kazuki Endo was busy stuffing the last of a convenience-store discount roll into his mouth.
Three twenty-year-old young men. Permanently unemployed and directionless.
Ever since middle school, they had been known for being idiots when it came to academics, while possessing monster-level physiques and athletic talent. Unfortunately, that talent had been completely overshadowed by one thing: the brutal reputation that had accidentally clung to their police and school disciplinary records.
"Two years ago, we could still run laps around this court without worrying about what we'd eat tomorrow," Daiki muttered, letting out a long breath as he stared at the dimming evening sky.
"Every university tossed our applications straight into the trash the moment they saw our suspension record," Kazuki shot back, his mouth still full of bread crumbs. "Even though, back in high school, that gang of punks from the school next door showed up at our gates first, carrying metal pipes and wooden planks. We were just defending ourselves."
Renjiro snorted sarcastically. "Defending yourselves until five people ended up in the ICU and their gang leader had three broken ribs isn't something the principal could just overlook, Kazuki. Not to mention the mugging in front of the station. We meant to help the victim, but you threw the attacker into a utility pole hard enough to make him seize up and almost end up paralyzed. The victim we saved ran away screaming and reported us to the police as psychopaths."
Silence crept between the three of them once more.
In a rigid modern society governed by test scores, academic degrees, and fake courtesy, their survival instincts and physical strength were considered nothing more than dangerous social trash.
"This world is too boring... and completely unfair," Renjiro whispered coldly, gazing at the rows of skyscrapers in Tokyo in the distance. "Weak people hide behind rules and look down on us. If only there were one day when all those degrees, money, and social status vanished in an instant. A day when every human being stood equal at zero, relying only on instinct and their bodies for survival."
BZZT! BZZT! BZZT!
The emergency alerts on all three of their phones began blaring at once. A Breaking News broadcast window suddenly appeared on Daiki's phone, framed in bright red and flashing rapidly.
"Hey... look at this," Daiki rasped, abruptly sitting upright.
The phone screen showed live footage from the docks at Yokohama Port. Ambulance lights and police patrol cars flashed wildly in the darkness of night. A large automated emergency motorized lifeboat had just slammed into the concrete dock after being tossed uncontrollably across the open sea. The hull bore the logo of a multinational shipping company: Oceanic Nexus Logistics.
The two surviving crewmen stood trembling violently, their faces as pale as corpses, surrounded by dozens of journalists shoving microphones and cameras at them.
"Our main ship was forced to dock at Socotra Island because of an emergency engine failure!" one of the crewmen shouted, gasping for breath, his eyes wide with terror. "But that island... that place was hell! There was a horde of strange, rotting creatures! They moved unbelievably fast, pouncing on and biting all our crewmates like starving wild animals! They're not human anymore!"
Before the reporters could ask another question, the second crewman standing beside him suddenly dropped to his knees. His body convulsed violently and uncontrollably. His eyes rolled completely white, while thick black veins shot outward from a claw scratch on his right arm, crawling up through his neck and toward his temple.
The man's jaw clacked stiffly, producing a low, ear-piercing hiss before he vomited thick black fluid onto the dock floor.
"Call medical! He needs—"
The sentence was cut short. The convulsing man launched himself forward at a speed beyond normal human limits. A deafening roar erupted as he lunged at the reporter in front of him, sinking his teeth straight into the newsman's neck until blood sprayed across the lens of the live broadcast camera.
Hysterical screams erupted throughout the dock. The interviewed crewman immediately turned and ran through the crowd as panic spread and people began trampling one another. The broadcast camera crashed onto the asphalt, capturing shadows of the mass chaos before the signal cut out, replaced by a pitch-black static screen.
The abandoned green court fell silent once again. The night wind blew cold against their skin.
Kazuki unconsciously dropped the rest of his bread onto the ground, while Daiki stared at his dead phone screen, brow deeply furrowed and breath held.
Renjiro, however, stared at the screen with a confused, disgusted look on his face. He clicked his tongue loudly and shook his head.
"What cheap lie are they reporting now?" Renjiro grumbled, snatching Daiki's phone and casually tossing it back into its owner's lap. "For ratings and shock value, the media these days just keeps getting more disgusting. There's no way a bunch of lunatics would bite each other like that unless it was an act or some setup by a bunch of suit-wearing hacks."
"But, Ren... that looked really real," Daiki replied uncertainly, staring at his phone's now completely dark screen.
"Just camera tricks and fake blood effects," Renjiro cut in casually. He got to his feet and dusted off his pants, a mischievous grin appearing on his face. A sudden idea had crossed his mind to chase away tonight's boredom.
"Instead of thinking about trash like that and going home to listen to our families nag us about getting jobs, let's get out of here," Renjiro said, nodding his chin toward a small hill across the district.
Kazuki looked up. "Get out of here and go where?"
"Our old school. Hanazono High School," Renjiro answered firmly. "We'll spend the night on the school's rooftop. It used to be our secret hideout when we liked sleeping through lunch. Besides, that old caretaker still forgets to lock it half the time, right?"
Daiki and Kazuki exchanged glances for a moment before breaking into wide grins. To them, returning to their old hideout made far more sense than thinking about the hysteria playing out on television.
Without realizing it, the nostalgic place they were heading toward would become the starting point of a true nightmare.