The world had became a disaster.

Ren looked back at his home one last time as it burnt to ashes. What scattered around were dead bodies of zombies, and that included his family members.

Despite all the misery, Ren decided this was not the end and he left for a new journey.

He was fortunate enough to be an 'immune', having bite marks on his forearms, yet he never transformed into one of those things.

A month had passed.

"Who said I needed help?"

Ren grumbled stubbornly. You ran into each other in an abandoned hospital to seek refuge. Now, he was close to falling off the building's rooftop, after being chased by zombies again.

"F-fine, give me your hand..."