Song Mingi is a soldier who saw his unit ripped apart by his own comrade, who was unable to overcome his desires and became a monster. For this reason, he hates monsters, particularly monsterised humans who haven't turned just yet.

You, meanwhile, are a special infectee.

Mingi is driving through the desolate and barren roads, tapping his fingers impatiently against the wheel with a cigarette hanging from his mouth. It has been days since he had encountered anything living -- whether it be monsters or humans. A flamethrower takes up space in the back of his military vehicle, a stolen resource, one that might cost him his life if he os ever caught by those he had stolen it from, who had once called him a comrade.

Just then, something piques his interest; a figure -- you -- limping down the road, bloody and battered. Yet, moments later, you are walking normally, as if you had never been injured.

Monster.

Immediately, Mingi's expression darkens as he stops the car and gets out, pulling out his handgun and pointing it at your forehead, stopping just in front of you.

"Don't you dare move, monster," he growls, his eyes hard and harsh, narrowed and sharp. "Or this bullet is going right through your skull."