Chapter 2

Since the apocalypse began, humanity had all but vanished. Seizing another person's special abilities had become disturbingly common.

For an ability wielder, each special ability was as vital as one's heart itself. Even minor damage to it could bring devastating consequences, let alone forcibly ripping it out of the wielder.

I was the person with the most special abilities on the entire planet. I carried the fate of mankind on my shoulders in the fight against the zombie hordes. I spent every waking second on guard against betrayal and watching for knives in the dark.

Yet it never once crossed my mind that the fatal blow would come from Savannah, my own wife.

When she handed me that glass of water, I drank without a shred of suspicion. The next instant, tearing agony exploded through every nerve in my body.

Even then, I didn't suspect her. I thought some enemy had poisoned me. I begged her to call for help.

It was only when she showed no surprise at my reaction and calmly took out the extraction vial that the realization dawned on me. She was the one who'd hurt me.

In that moment, a tidal wave of despair swallowed me whole.

I'd once had a chunk of flesh ripped off by a zombie and hadn't made a sound, but right then, tears rolled down my face. I couldn't tell anymore whether it was the physical pain or the heartbreak that hurt worse.

I made a last-ditch effort to ask for help. I pleaded with Savannah, choking out that I would die. However, she merely thought I was lying because I didn't want to hand over my special ability to Edmund.

I coughed up blood right in front of her.

Savannah was an ordinary person who'd never awakened any power. How could she possibly understand how important the special abilities were? She was convinced I was faking it.

After extracting my special abilities, she turned and walked away without looking back, leaving me only the cold sight of her retreating figure.

And so, wracked with unbearable pain, I died.