My Job? Weaving Armour For Undead In Apocalypse
Chapter 37: Infuriating Demand

Chapter 37: Infuriating Demand

After devouring Landon during the first moments of his transformation, tearing into him with savage hunger, Ben had prowled the edges of the campus, hunting and consuming more students under the cover of darkness. With each kill, his strength surged. Now, having risen to Level 16, he returned, not as the lackey he once was, but as something reborn in gore and madness.

He had waited long enough. It was time to claim his prized target.

Confident, his footsteps echoed faintly as he emerged from the shadows and stepped into the street light. Blood smeared his lips and chin. His jacket hung open, both crimson-soaked hands casually slipped into its pockets as if mocking the stillness around him. His figure was loose, unbothered, yet every fiber of him screamed danger.

Ben sniffed the air with a slow, animalistic breath, like a beast savoring the scent of prey. His eyes now glowed a piercing crimson, filled with unnatural gleam. The faint scent of blood and death clung to him like a shroud.

Professor David stood frozen for a moment, his expression unreadable. His hammer wasn’t with him—left inside the gym, but he didn’t retreat.

Instead, he tightened his fist at his side. Upon recognizing the blood-soaked uniform clinging to Ben’s frame, a flicker of emotion danced in his gaze—regret, confusion, perhaps sorrow.

This monster... Was this what the world had turned an innocent student into?

His voice was low but carried weight. "Who are you?"

Ben stopped walking and tilted his head slightly, amused. His lips peeled into a wide, toothy grin, revealing teeth sharpened by evolution, unnatural and vicious. He leaned forward, the light glinting off his stained face and glimmering eyes, voice curling with malevolent pride.

"I’m God."

....

"Hasn’t the professor been out for too long?" Tevin glanced at the door, brow furrowed. His words made Merek pause mid-bite, and all at once, eyes turned—Felicity, Nero, Fred, and several dozen others stared at the entrance.

"Couldn’t he find the student... or are they talking?" someone muttered.

"I guess so—!"

BANG!

A thunderous impact cut Tevin off as the door slammed open with such force that part of it swung wide and cracked against the wall.

Gasps echoed.

There stood Professor David—bloodied from head to toe, his clothes in shreds, marked with deep claw gashes and bite wounds. But what silenced the room was the absence of his left arm.

"One of his arms..." someone whispered.

"What are you doing?! Shut the door!" Despite his horrific state, David’s voice cracked like a whip, filled with urgency and command.

A hundred eyes widened, frozen in horror.

Felicity vanished in a blink, reappearing before the professor, ready to assist, but her body froze.

Her pupils shook violently, caught in a silent war between spirit and flesh, willing herself to move—but something was wrong.

Beneath her feet... a shadow.

A claw burst from it and latched onto her ankle.

In a single blink, she was gone.

The others thought she had teleported again, but Merek saw it, the shadow beneath. He bolted like a phantom, too fast for the untrained eye. No skill. Just raw, terrifying speed, ten times that of a normal man.

He darted past the door as David stumbled forward, and something else surged behind him—

Yuki.

Outside, Merek’s eyes locked on the scene: Felicity, suspended midair, bound by an obsidian tentacle that constricted tighter with each struggle. Her breathing grew ragged. Her body trembled.

Below her, a blood-smeared high schooler grinned. Ben.

He had planned this well—knew Felicity could easily behead him in a flash. But his new ability rendered her speed meaningless.

Only elemental attacks could harm his shadows.

His grin faltered the moment a presence stirred behind him, at the gym door.

Before he could react, an invisible force slammed into him like a boulder, flinging him across the distance straight toward Yuki.

Ben’s eyes widened.

The armoured undead swordmaster was already waiting, blade drawn. One clean, precise slash split open Ben’s chest.

He remained suspended midair, limbs splayed like a broken starfish—powerless.

Felicity crashed to the ground with a gasp, coughing, sweat dripping as she turned to Merek. Her gaze was wide, filled with disbelief.

When? When had he grown this strong?

Hers was a shock but for Ben, it was devastation.

He thought himself a god after his transformation. His race change, his powers—everything told him he was invincible.

Yet here he was, defeated, not by overwhelming force, but by someone who hadn’t even broken a sweat.

"I remember you..." Ben rasped, his voice hoarse. "You were with her."

He chuckled, though blood trickled from his mouth. "You think this is enough? I can regenerate, you know? I can’t die!"

Merek said nothing at first. His eyes dropped to the slash Yuki had made—watching as the wound began to slowly stitch together.

"Is that right?" he murmured.

From behind stepped a Vulture undead. It raised its weapon and dragged it across Ben’s abdomen.

The moment the wound opened, it turned black. Flesh began to rot. The air stank of decay.

Ben convulsed, struggling to move, to scream—but an unseen force clamped his mouth shut. Only agonizing muffled sounds left his lips.

Merek turned toward the students clustered in the doorway. Some had come out during the chaos. Most had remained frozen inside.

His voice was cold and clear.

"Anyone who storms out again will not be accepted back into this group. And those who try to steal food..." He gestured toward Ben.

"...will receive his treatment."

Without ceremony, the Vultures wrapped Ben in rusted chains. One cleaved off his limbs. The first performed the final move by removing Ben’s head.

Merek didn’t look back.

He walked straight to Professor David, who was pressing a towel, given to him by Tevin against the bloody stump of his arm.

"It’s still bleeding," Merek said quietly. "We need to treat it."

Professor David sighed, a deep sound of weariness and quiet resignation. He had never wanted things to come to this.

The thought that one of his former students had become so cruel, so utterly devoid of the warmth he once knew, tore at something inside him.

But this godforsaken world, they were all changing under its pressure. It was branding each of them with its horrors, reshaping the very essence of who they were. His precious students... they were no longer the same.

Another sigh escaped him, heavier than the first, and he gave a slow, reluctant nod.

The crowd instinctively parted as Merek and Tevin stepped forward, guiding the injured professor toward a seat.

Nero went to check on Felicity, his steps urgent, while Fred lingered nearby, his bat resting on his shoulder. His eyes were shadowed, and his expression carried a weight, brooding and unreadable.

Merek knelt beside the professor and opened a small tin of healing balm. He scooped up a portion and examined the wide expanse of the wound. At a glance, he knew the balm would be almost entirely spent after this one application, and the thought drew a short, ironic chuckle from his lips.

Nevertheless, he began to work, gently applying the balm to the ragged flesh.

Thankfully, the balm took effect swiftly. The bleeding stopped first, followed by a dulling of the pain. Moments later, the professor’s muscles began to knit together, the healing magic coaxing the torn tissues back into shape.

Rising to his feet, Merek exhaled and slowly closed the tin, now nearly empty.

But before he could fully turn away, hurried footsteps echoed behind him. He pivoted slightly, glancing over his shoulder and there was Nero, approaching quickly, eyes sharp and voice urgent.

"Felicity’s ankle is bleeding. Give me your balm."