Kryptonians: Man of Steel

Chapter 1501 Human? Monster? (Chapter 1500, please give a reward and vote for me!!!)
Why was there such a long period of absolute silence after the scream?

If it were a victim, upon hearing a response, they should immediately unleash an even stronger distress signal!
This faint response, given the long interval, seemed like... a deliberate, cautious test?

breath?

The stench of decay and sweet odor in the air seemed... even stronger? It was coming from the direction the sound was coming from.

trap!

The alarm bells of reason nearly ripped his eardrums apart.

Run! Now! Immediately! Turn and run!

Adrenaline surged, and every muscle fiber screamed for him to execute his survival instinct—escape!

His foot even unconsciously moved back half an inch.

"Ouch...it hurts so much...my leg...I can't move it..."

The woman's voice rang out again, this time with a heartbreaking sob, the volume slightly increased, making the pain even more realistic.

"Please... help me... something... is chasing me... it... it's still nearby..."

The fear and despair in his voice were so real and so penetrating that they instantly struck the most stubborn, softest, and most twisted corner of Hachiman's heart—that "inherent weakness" that could not truly ignore the cries for help from the weak.

What if?
A faint yet extremely destructive thought stubbornly emerged, instantly overwhelming the piercing alarm.

What if she was just terrified, injured her leg, and hiding in a corner too scared to make a sound? What if she had just fainted and was only regaining consciousness now?
What if that "thing" is still nearby, but has temporarily left? If I run away, wouldn't she be doomed?

The extreme aversion to "standing idly by," the deep-seated fear of being labeled a "hypocrite," and the almost self-destructive demand for "true goodness" all coalesced into a powerful, irrational force at this moment.

It brutally choked reason, pinning the instinct for survival to the ground.

Emotion overwhelmed the faltering rationality.

"I...I made it! Don't be afraid! Hang in there!"

Hachiman heard his own voice echoing in the darkness, carrying a forced calm and reassurance that even he found unfamiliar.

The voice was so hypocritical, so foolish, yet so... in line with his self-perception of being "hopeless."

He took a deep breath; the rotten, sweet, and fishy smell almost made him nauseous.

He forced himself to take steps, moving forward slowly and cautiously, one step at a time.

Helmet and shield were held tightly to his chest, his body leaned slightly forward, his center of gravity lowered, ready to roll backward or block at any moment.

He stared intently in the direction the sound came from—it seemed to be less than ten meters ahead, in a deeper, shadowy corner piled with several broken trash cans and discarded building materials.

The alley makes a slight turn here, where the light becomes even scarcer.

"I... I'm here..."

The woman's voice was choked with sobs, as if it were coming from behind those trash cans.

Hachiman's heart was in his throat.

He turned sideways, carefully avoiding an obstacle on the ground that he couldn't quite make out, and slowly approached the corner.

His eyes had adjusted to the darkness a little and he could barely make out the outline of the trash can, and... a figure huddled in the shadow between the trash can and the wall.

It was the figure of a woman wearing a light-colored dress. She was facing away from the alley entrance, her body curled up in a ball, her shoulders heaving violently, as if she were crying.

Her long hair fell loosely, obscuring her face.

Her skirt appeared to be torn at the hem, and her exposed calves... seemed to be stained with a dark, viscous liquid?

Blood? !
Hachiman's heart sank.

"Are you...are you okay?"

Hachiman stopped about three meters away from her, not daring to come any closer.

At this distance, he could smell an even stronger stench of blood mixed with that strange, sweet, fishy smell.

He gripped the helmet tightly, his knuckles groaning under the strain once more.

"Where...where is that thing? Is it still there?"

The woman did not answer immediately, but her shoulders heaved more violently, and her sobs became more suppressed, filled with fear.

"It...it seems to be gone...but...my leg...it hurts so much..."

Her voice was broken and disjointed, carrying a sense of exhaustion from surviving a disaster, making it sound incredibly real.

"Sir... thank you... thank you for coming... I... I thought I was going to die..."

Her gratitude, like a poisoned dagger, precisely pierced Hachiman's last bit of vigilance.

A sense of guilt and a distorted feeling of being needed surged up instantly.

See, she really is just a victim! She thanked me! How despicable my suspicions were!

Isn't this exactly the "truth and goodness" I've been pursuing, even if there's only a one in ten thousand chance of it?

"Can...can you stand up?"

Hachiman's voice softened, and his body subconsciously relaxed a little, his arm holding the helmet drooping slightly.

"Shall I help you out? The alley entrance isn't far, and my car... well, it's overturned, but it still works. Shall I take you to the hospital?"

"I...I'll try..."

The woman spoke with a sob in her voice, seemingly struggling to turn around.

"My leg...it might be broken...it hurts so much..."

As she spoke, she struggled to support herself on the cold, damp ground with her hands, and her body began to turn clumsily.

Just as she turned to face Hachiman, his nerves, which had relaxed slightly after "confirming" she was a victim, suddenly caught several extremely small, yet impossible-to-ignore details under absolute focus—details that could freeze one's blood instantly:

The "bloodstains" on her legs: When she moved her legs, the dark, viscous "bloodstains" in the extremely dim light seemed... not to change in the normal, liquid flow or adhesion pattern with the movement of her legs.
Instead, it looks like a congealed, dark stain? And the location... seems too high? It doesn't look like a bleeding wound?
The way she turned: Although she deliberately made her turning movements appear clumsy and painful, in that instant, Hachiman seemed to glimpse the coordination between her shoulders and hips... There was an indescribable, beyond-the-range range of human joint movement... a sense of fluidity? Like... a snake adjusting its posture?
The underlying tone of her voice: In the last syllable of her "It hurts so much," there seemed to be... an extremely faint... indescribable, inhuman, metallic friction or insect wing flapping... high-frequency noise? So brief that it was almost an illusion.

boom--!
It felt as if an invisible hammer had struck Hachiman Hikigaya's head!

All the blood rushed to the top of my head in an instant, and was drained away in the next second, leaving behind a cold blankness and a sharp ringing in my ears!

(End of this chapter)