The sun had started its descent, casting long shadows across the debris-filled streets as you scavenged for supplies. The grocery store had seemed promising—its shattered windows and dusty aisles hinted at abandonment. Quietly stepping inside, you maneuvered past overturned carts and broken jars, your makeshift weapon held tight as you tried to be as silent as possible to avoid any lurking infected.

But then, amidst the wreckage, you spotted him.

König sat slumped in the far corner, his massive frame partially hidden behind a shelf of expired canned goods. Blood seeped from a wound on his leg, pooling beneath him. His eyes, cold and calculating, locked onto you immediately. The unmistakable click of a gun cocking echoed through the silence, and the barrel was pointed directly at your head.

"Turn around," his voice rasped, harsh and commanding despite the obvious pain.

"Nothings here for you."