Infinity: Kill your way through the movie world.

“Get up,” she said gently.

Only then did the monsters dare to raise their heads, but they remained kneeling.

Eve walked up to the old ogre, reached out and stroked its head gently, as if petting a pet, or perhaps her own child.

The old cannibal trembled all over, not just from fear, but also from excitement.

“Well done,” said Eve. “Take me to where there are humans.”

Two hours later, on the outskirts of Grantspass.

A taxi was parked on the side of the road. The driver, a middle-aged man, was looking at his phone. The passenger door opened, and Eve got in.

"Where to?" the driver asked without looking up.

“Downtown,” Eve said. “Let’s find a lively place.”

The driver then glanced at her.

Young, beautiful, simply dressed, but with a strange air about her. He didn't think much of it and started the car: "Alone so late? Be careful, things haven't been peaceful in the city lately. I heard there are monsters around."

"A monster?" Eve looked out the window at the street rushing by.

"Yeah, it's all over the internet, saying people have seen man-eating things in the suburbs." The driver became more talkative. "If you ask me, it's all nonsense. There are no monsters in this world, it's just people scaring people."

Eve turned to look at him and smiled: "What's your name?"

“Me? Tom,” the driver said. “And you?”

Eve leaned in, very close, her lips almost touching his ear, and said, "My name is Eve."

At the same time, a very thin, almost invisible black line drifted out from the tip of her hair, like a living hair, and slipped into Tom's ear.

Tom froze.

The steering wheel jerked, and the car almost went onto the curb. He slammed on the brakes and stopped on the side of the road.

“Tom?” Eve sat back down and looked at him.

Tom didn't say anything.

His eyes widened, his pupils shrank to pinpoints, then dilated again, his facial muscles twitched, and something seemed to wriggle beneath his skin.

A few seconds later, he turned his head and looked at Eve with a changed gaze, as if he were looking at his master, his eyes filled with hunger and primal desire, like a wild beast devoured by lust.

He squeezed out the word "hunger" from his throat.

"Go ahead." Eve opened the car door and gently patted her head with her fair hand. "Go find something to eat."

Tom stumbled out of the car and walked toward a convenience store across the street that was still lit up.

His walking posture had changed; his shoulders slumped and his arms hung limply, as if he hadn't fully learned how to use his body yet.

Eve got out of the car and closed the door.

She glanced at Tom's retreating figure, her eyes narrowing slightly, like a mother watching her child grow up and become independent, filled with satisfaction, before turning and walking in another direction.

There's a bar in this direction with a sign that says 'Wolf Den,' and the neon sign is half a letter broken, flashing intermittently.

The music coming from inside was very loud.

Eve pushed open the door and went in.

Meanwhile, in the temporary command center of the Witcher Guild.

It was already three in the morning, but no one was asleep.

The large screen was divided into more than a dozen smaller screens: real-time monitoring of monster riots in various places, energy scan maps, and casualty reports.

Dean and Sam's faces are in one of the smaller shots. They are still in a makeshift safe house near Oregon, with bare walls and a map in the background.

Wu Heng sat in the main seat, with the phantom of the tentacle throne appearing and disappearing behind him. His true body was still on the front lines of Hell; this was a remote projection.

Bobby stood to the side, looking tired, holding a stack of freshly printed reports.

“Breaking news.” Bobby tossed the report onto the table. “A large-scale anomaly began in Grantspass an hour ago.”

"'Internet Addiction' detected a high-intensity evil force erupting in the city center, followed by the appearance of a large number of hybrid monsters' life signals in the surrounding area."

"A hybrid monster?" Sam frowned.

“Yes.” Bobby pulled up a blurry surveillance video. It showed a man pouncing on another pedestrian in front of a convenience store on a street corner and starting to bite him.

The image zooms in, revealing scales on the face of the man biting someone, and his fingers turning into claws: "Humans are instantly transformed, not through infection, but by being turned into monsters."

Dean cursed. "Crowley did it again?"

“It’s not him,” Wu Heng said, his voice coming through the speaker, still calm. “The analysis of the energy characteristics of the internet addiction is completely different from Crowley’s demonic power. These monsters are more primitive.”

He operated the control panel, and a file appeared in the center of the large screen.

The title is: "Eve, the mother of all things, a creature of primordial purgatory, and possibly possessing Leviathan-like attributes."

The file was filled with dense text, along with several blurry ancient illustrations, depicting a woman surrounded by the outlines of various monsters.

“Eve,” Wu Heng read out the name. “According to the ancient documents collected by the guild, she is the source of all supernatural monsters. She existed before the angels appeared. She can create monsters, suppress the power of angels and demons, and is almost immune to conventional weapons.”

Sam quickly scanned the files: "So, 'creating monsters' means she's the one who created those hybrids in Grantspass?"

"Based on the information about all things you've investigated, this should be the case." Wu Heng pulled up another video.

This time it's from the bar's internal security camera footage. Although the image is shaky, it's still clear:

A blonde woman walked into a bar and touched several customers. Within seconds, the people she touched began to mutate, their skin cracking and growing scales or hair. They then attacked those around them, triggering a chain reaction that turned the entire bar into hell within five minutes.

"She can transform humans with a single touch?" Dean stared at the screen.

“There are conditions,” Wu Heng said. “According to literature, it is only effective for people whose hearts are filled with negative emotions or who have no awe of supernatural phenomena.”

“But the problem is,” Wu Heng paused, pointing to the changing scenes of brightly lit streets on the video, “that there are more people like this in modern cities than we imagine.”

"Under the various pressures of the information society, at least half of the pedestrians on this street don't want to live anymore."

"It's just that this consciousness is suppressed by reason and hasn't erupted."

The room was quiet for a few seconds, with only the hum of the machine running.

That's how it is for all living beings.

Sam and Dean completely understand this mentality, because sometimes the immense pressure can cause them to have similar thoughts themselves.

They just can't.

Because they are supported by responsibility, beliefs, and ideals.

“How do we deal with her?” Sam asked. “The files say conventional weapons are useless.”

Wu Heng pulled up another document: "There is a way. Among the documents contributed by the guild, there is a notebook by Samuel Colt."

“Colt?” Dean raised an eyebrow. “The one who built that legendary revolver?”

"Correct."

The enlarged document is a scanned copy of a handwritten note; the handwriting is messy but still legible. It is dated March 5, 1861, and the location is Wyoming. (End of Chapter)