The man on the wall never made a sound. Jaw clenched, teeth locked together. Impossible to tell whether he was already dead or simply refusing to scream.
Something ugly twisted in my gut.
How could the Bastion allow this? Even criminals had basic human rights.
"Hey! Put some effort into it—make him scream! Isn't he the one who supposedly commands the undead?"
The blood in my veins turned to ice.
In this entire world, only two people could command zombies. Me and my brother.
And my brother had voluntarily entered the Bastion as a senior researcher to help develop a vaccine for humanity. His status alone should have made him untouchable, and on top of that, his fiancée Muriel Maxwell was at his side to protect him.
How could some random man used as bait possibly know about that ability—let alone possess it?
My gaze snapped back to the figure on the wall.
I hadn't looked closely before. Now that I did, what I saw was worse than I'd thought.