UCPA Chapter 37: Chaos in the Fog

Chapter 37: Chaos in the Fog

Translated by Addis of Exiled Rebels Scanlations

Editor: PlumSauce

 

The explosion was loud but didn’t cause any tremors. Coraci and the guards beside him ran toward the cafeteria restroom. John dropped Hayden and followed after them. Volvo called out to John several times from behind, but John seemed not to hear.

“The Association people are so unprofessional!” Volvo muttered, then turned to help the other guards maintain order and line the prisoners back into their wards.

Suddenly, the air seemed to turn thick and murky. People’s vision blurred first, then a haze rose and spread, creeping closer and closer. Several human guards began to tremble, convulse, even collapse to the floor. The satyr looked uncomfortable but didn’t lose consciousness. Among the prisoners, some coughed, while others reacted as strongly as humans would.

A vampire started to cry loudly; another slumped down in despair. Many wore terrified expressions and fled in all directions. Chaos erupted once more.

Strangely, many guards also showed bizarre symptoms — but to everyone’s surprise, none of the werewolves were affected.

The fog thickened, nearly obscuring all sight as it spread everywhere. Through the haze, Volvo heard a colleague shout, “Wizard’s gone!”

Coraci was the first to reach the restroom. The guards who were with him, some fell in the fog, others seemed unaffected.

The restroom door was open, and muffled rustling came from inside.

The werewolf guards stood before Coraci, putting on their insulated gloves and activating the stun settings on their batons. The electric batons used against monster prisoners were far more powerful than those for humans. If used on humans, they could cause serious injury or even death.

A dark shadow lunged out of the thick fog. The guards struck with their batons, but the creature showed no fear.

“Oh god! What is that?” Even the strong werewolf guards were visibly shaken by the sight.

The creature was grotesque. It walked on all fours with a massive, bloated bone-white body, sharp beast-like claws, and a long tail. On its back, a pair of bat wings flapped rapidly, rustling. Its head was human — clear and distinct. It was Andrew, a human wizard prisoner.

His eyes were gone, replaced by a pair of red compound eyes growing from the sockets. His mouth had sprouted insect-like mandibles.

There was another one inside; they heard it destroying the ventilation grate.

The werewolf guards charged in to subdue it. But it was incredibly strong, flinging them aside. During the struggle, a guard jabbed his baton at the creature’s mandibles, which seemed to hurt it. It shook its head violently and bit through the baton — the outer layer of its siphon-like mandibles was covered in sharp beast teeth! Both the guards and Coraci were stunned; such a feature shouldn’t exist on any creature.

“Fall back!”

A guard shoved Coraci aside roughly, no longer concerned with gentleness or etiquette. The guard tore off his uniform; his back bulged and swelled, his limbs stretching out as beastly growls rolled from his throat.

The transformation into a wolf took only seconds. Now he stood upright, over eight feet tall, black mane covering his body and strong as a mountain.

Another werewolf guard also completed his transformation but couldn’t come to help. From behind them, another unknown monster lunged.

It wore fragments of a guard’s uniform — it was a human guard who had collapsed earlier.

Werewolves and monsters clashed. Screams and roars came from the cafeteria direction. More werewolf guards — and possibly prisoners — transformed into beasts to fight the monsters. Meanwhile, more humans turned into monsters.

One monster pinned a werewolf down, trying to stab its mandibles into his throat.

Suddenly, a shadow darted in, moving too fast to see clearly. He twisted the monster’s head with a snap; the creature went limp.

“John?” Coraci tried to call, but his legs felt weak — perhaps because of the smoke.

John stared in shock at the monster’s corpse. Another monster, who was wrestling with a werewolf, beat its wings and broke free, darting toward the fog-filled restroom.

The ventilation grate must have been destroyed. They heard scraping as it crawled into the vent.

“You okay?” John helped Coraci up, supporting him as he blinked several times to steady himself.

“I’m fine… They’re in there,” Coraci said, pointing toward the restroom.

The ventilation system gradually dispersed the fog, thinning the dense haze that had blocked their vision. The werewolves stepped inside and discovered the monsters hadn’t just escaped through the vent — the wall near the sink had been broken open, leaving a hole large enough for humanoid creatures to pass through.

Blood and white feathers littered the floor. Coraci bent down, picking up the feathers one by one.

Guard Captain Volvo finished handling things outside and rushed over. Now a half-wolf with brown fur, he was taller than the average beast-form werewolf.

He scanned the area and took a few steps toward Coraci, grabbing his arm to hold him back.

John pressed hard against Volvo’s massive claw. “Hey! Who are you?”

Volvo, fully transformed, pulled both Coraci and John in front of him. Though smaller in stature, bloodkin had incredible strength. Volvo’s claws hurt, but he didn’t blame John.

“Don’t be nervous. I’m Volvo,” he said in a deeper voice than usual. “You, Mr. Deville Coraci, what kind of creature are you?”

“I’m human,” Coraci replied softly, signaling John not to worry. Despite his rough appearance, Volvo hadn’t hurt him.

“Impossible…” Volvo narrowed his eyes. “Humans — everyone who was in the cafeteria just now—”

“Turned into half-wolf, half-insect monsters, right?” Coraci sighed and pulled a thin chain from his collar. Silver threads wound around the chain, holding a single white feather.

“Mothmen can drive humans insane. But their feathers make excellent protection. Anyone carrying one becomes immune to the mothman toxin — if it’s applied to the skin or mucous membranes…” Coraci tucked the feather on the chain back, his other hand holding a handful of broken feathers he had picked up from the floor.

“I don’t know exactly what Wizard did, but it looks like he turned humans into a mindless hybrid from a mixture of mothman toxin and lycanthropy curse. I heard he’d been studying the lycanthropy curse even before he was captured.”

Volvo nodded. “Yes, we all know that. But even if you resist the mothman toxin, what about the lycanthropy curse?”

“There are countless legends in human stories about bloodkin and werewolves being at odds. One big reason,” Coraci placed a hand on John’s shoulder and looked at the standing half-wolves before them, “Guard Captain, you should know — there are people werewolves can’t transform.”

“Are you saying…”

Coraci nodded. “Yes. I’ve been marked by bloodkin.”

The werewolves looked surprised, glancing between Coraci and John.

John was confused. “What does that mean?”

“Being bitten once means you’re marked. Didn’t your family ever tell you?” Coraci smiled, as if explaining something as simple as latte art to coffee. “Bloodkin don’t kill their prey outright, but anyone bitten once is marked. The next time they hunt, bloodkin can choose another target or quickly find the marked person. To all bloodkin, marked people are easier to subdue. At the same time, marked individuals are immune to the werewolf beast transformation curse.”

John was even more shocked than the werewolf guards. He just opened his mouth, speechless. Coraci spoke casually, as if talking about how to froth milk. John wanted to say, “I didn’t mean to do it,” and also wanted to say, “If I’d known, I wouldn’t have bitten you,” but it was too late. Coraci clearly knew — he had willingly been bitten back then.

Coraci guessed what John wanted to say and looked away.

“Stop focusing on me. Right now, the important thing is Wizard and the monsters he created,” Coraci said. “Wizard wants werewolf blood. Hayden and his men are werewolves. Mothmen are rare outside, even more so than werewolves or bloodkin. Wizard may be waiting for an opportunity. He probably wants Moss and has been blocked by the guards and Hayden before… I don’t know if Moss is still alive. She could be dead or being held hostage by Wizard.”

“But what does Wizard want to do?” John said while pointing outside. “Maybe he’s trying to break out? He only blew a hole in the restroom wall. The blast is only at the level of homemade chemicals. The Bunker isn’t easy to escape; there are so many locked doors outside…”

“Maybe…” Volvo shuddered suddenly. “Maybe he’s going after Mr. Russell!”

The Bunker had lost control. Human prisoners and guards alike had turned into monsters unlike anything anyone had ever seen. The other guards and monsters had no choice but to fight for their own survival.

At first, some prisoners tried to take advantage of the chaos to escape. They quickly realized it was impossible — they didn’t know the Bunker’s internal routes, and most of the isolation doors were locked.

Worse still were the monsters. These creatures had completely lost their minds, driven only by the urge to grab and devour, siphoning brains with their grotesque mouths.

Hayden tore off his clothes and transformed into a half-wolf with a reddish-brown mane. He had been wearing a magic collar that prevented transformation, but another werewolf guard used a secret code to remove it just in time.

Hayden didn’t get a chance to thank the decisive guard before he plunged into battle with the monsters.

He tore one apart completely, while the remaining monsters who hadn’t escaped were either bound or killed by the guards.

Panting, Hayden kicked away a broken table and walked over to a man pressed against the wall.

The hunter Driftwood hung his hands low, breathing deeply. His gaze was fixed on the distance, as if he hadn’t noticed Hayden at all. Hayden, now towering over him, had to crouch down to meet Driftwood’s eyes.

The beast’s large hand reached out and grabbed Driftwood’s arm. Driftwood stumbled, and Hayden steadied him.

“Hunter, your hand’s done for,” the werewolf said matter-of-factly, without a trace of mockery.

Driftwood sneered coldly and nodded.

The werewolf rolled up Driftwood’s sleeve. His arm was covered in scars and stitches, clearly visible.

“During that chase, my wrist and finger tendons were completely destroyed,” Driftwood finally met the werewolf’s gaze. “Now my hand can move, but I can barely hold anything heavier than a cup. Even touching the top of my own head is difficult. So, Hayden, how do you feel now? Happy?”

Since being thrown in prison, Driftwood had been bluffing. His bad reputation kept most prisoners from messing with him. Luckily, his legs hadn’t been injured, which had already cost some mortal-born demons a few losses.

Hayden was silent for a moment, then asked, “Something’s off. Why didn’t you turn into a monster? You clearly are…”

He tightened his grip, squeezing Driftwood’s arm. Driftwood didn’t resist.

“You’re not human anymore.”

Hayden’s grip grew stronger, almost unconsciously. Red marks appeared on Driftwood’s arm, but he didn’t care.

“You’ve been embraced by a vampire?”

Driftwood was sent to the prison at night and never appeared in the dining hall during meals.

“And… the embrace happened after your hand was completely ruined!”

If Driftwood had been turned before his injury, then as long as he survived, his wounds would have fully healed. But he had his disability first and was embraced afterward.

In those cases, scars wouldn’t fade, the body wouldn’t grow, and even a perm would return to its original state within a day.

The vampire’s embrace could cure human illnesses but not disabilities.

“The one who ‘died’ that day… wasn’t just Huberly,” Driftwood muttered.

Huberly was a bloodkin who had worked with him and a member of the Unthreatening Creature Protection Association from France. Huberly and the hunter had pursued their target together. But in the end, he was captured by a criminal group of his own kind, drained of his blood and soul until his body was as brittle as dry earth, then turned to dust by the sunlight.

Driftwood stood motionless while Hayden stared at him for a long time. Finally, Hayden stepped forward, grabbed Driftwood’s body, and hoisted him onto his shoulder.

“Put me down!” Driftwood struggled.

“No offense, but this is a special situation,” Hayden said, tightening his hold. “We’re going somewhere safe.”

“Put me down…” Driftwood sighed, his tone softening. “My legs are fine. I can walk on my own.”

 

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