The exit led to a long hallway back to the entrance where most guards stood around. Denver caught a few people slowly trudging along the path as if scared of leaving the protected grounds. If they could camp in the supermarket, they would plant themselves on the walkway. However, the guards in tactical gear were scary, especially with those big guns.
"Hey, you! Move it!" Denver heard a guard's voice calling out to someone by the entrance. The person seemed to be dawdling by the steps, murmuring to himself.
However, the guards didn't readily point their guns at the person. He was simply struggling to feel something in his pockets. He turned to the angry guards before fearfully descending the rest of the steps. When he accidentally tripped and fell down, one guard couldn't help but approach him.
"Up you go, grandpa." The guard pulled the elderly to his feet. "Dammit… sit over there for now. If you make loud noises, the mimics might hear."
"My coins… I dropped them…" the old man murmured as the guard dragged him to their spot. However, he just sat down and hugged his almost empty bag. It was safer to stay next to these scary men than go home to a shack.
Denver and the others glanced at the guard who had a soft spot for a grandpa. Some of them envied the old man for receiving favor. Then again, they seemed faring way better than the old man.
The son continued walking, even if most stopped to watch the scene. Denver descended the steps with care, only for him to feel something prod at his guts. His gaze darted up ahead and saw a person trudging toward the supermarket.
A low sigh came from the man. Seeing the steep steps up the supermarket entrance seemed to tire him just from looking at it. His feet moved to ascend the stairs slowly. He seemed to be murmuring under his breath, but Denver was too far to hear anything. However, he didn't miss how the man's body swayed at every successful step.
"…something's wrong with him…" Denver watched the man from where he stood. He was already by the last step, so he felt free staring at the man's back.
[Warning! A field venator is detected!]
Denver frowned in the man's direction.
'What's a venator?'
[Opening index… Field Venator! Categorized as… Voracious Eater Class. A Field Venator is an eater whose hunger can be sated by ten offerings. However, the thrill of the chase inflates its ego. It will hunt targets for no other benefit.]
'A mimic?'
Denver's breath hitched. A mimic chose to walk to its death in the hands of those armed guards. It should be one of those killing for sport, right? Did it want to die now?
No. Denver figured that thing didn't come to the supermarket to kill itself. It was hunting in broad daylight. The supermarket was simply the best place to find a target. His group had never gone to the supermarket during daytime. He didn't know if this was a common occurrence.
'I'd rather leave now… before everything gets ugly.'
Denver turned away and took the last step. He should get away before…
He stopped walking as his stray thought paralyzed his body. His head turned toward the mimic trudging up the stairs. He could see how its hand started twitching as if containing its excitement.
The mimic wanted a chase, not a slaughter. It would pick out a single target from every human on sight. The supermarket was well-guarded, and the humans could simply run back inside. Everyone could be considered safe… aside from him. He stood alone at the bottom of the steps, cut off by the mimic's presence along the stairs. Denver could only run… away from everyone else.
"Shit!" Denver quickly bolted the moment the mimic suddenly swung its head toward him. It was as if it could tell that Denver was already suspicious of it. When Denver's heart spiked from fear, it struck.
"A mimic!" The people from the entrance screamed, and the guards prepared their guns. However, the mimic only ran after the lone person away from them.
The guard who helped the old man wanted to give chase. However, they were told that some mimics would hunt in packs now. They might have done this in front of humans to lure those who wanted to help. If no one else came, at least they could still feast on that person they targeted.
Soon enough, they saw a dozen mimics running after the man with loads of supplies. The humans could tell those were mimics by the way they screamed and distorted their bodies as they ran.
"…I'm sorry…" the guard tightened his hold on his big gun. He knew his colleagues couldn't risk leaving their posts for a single person.
"What's happening?" His partner gasped. The guard looked at where his partner stared, and a group of their superiors ran out to chase the group of mimics. Everyone could see fear on their faces as if they were screwed one way or another.
The two guards only looked at each other in confusion… more when the supermarket's general manager showed up from the entrance. He stood by the steps and bit his thumb. They heard him cuss out loud.
…
Denver barely gained on the mimic. He had no choice but to find a good spot to hide first. He dropped the bag and the gallons he carried. His hand held onto the handgun. Denver took a deep breath to pacify his pounding heart. The field venator loved a chase. He shouldn't give it the satisfaction of scaring him witless. Even if he was scared, he shouldn't go stupid.
"Okay… where is it…?" Denver carefully looked out from his hiding spot. The coast was clear, but he long knew never to trust this sight. A mimic wouldn't give up unless they were hurt.
He felt his eyes react to a squelching feeling. He couldn't help but blink. When his eyes opened, his vision had a faint red tint. Everything seemed to be so clear that he could count the tiles on one distant roof. Denver's breath hitched again. His hallucinations started while he was in danger.
Before he could cuss, a figure seemed to peer from a faraway roof. Denver could see the mimic from earlier. It was gazing in his direction as if waiting for him to show up. Its hand had already morphed into a clawed version, waiting to eviscerate the target.
Denver pursed his lips into a tight line. He put the gun back to its holster and took out the survival knife. He took a deep breath and ran off along the empty street.
The mimic licked its top teeth and rushed in for the kill. It jumped from one house to another, rapidly gaining on Denver. It caught up with him and landed in front of him. With a forward dash, the mimic charged toward the human.
Instead of a fearful scream, Denver answered it with a grunt. The human evaded to the side before lunging forward. He struck down with his survival knife!
"Die!" Denver screamed.