When Dante looked at the clock, he realized he was working a bit longer than he should have. For hours, he had been trying to organize the financial aspects for all his suppliers. He simply didn't want unnecessary and unfamiliar problems.

Dealing with a customer could sometimes be unbearable, let alone dealing with an angry farmer. He didn't want that.

However, it was almost midnight, and he was really hungry. His hunger, though, wasn't the typical hunger of any human, as it could easily be satisfied with any unsold products from today, which would be discarded tomorrow. Dante's hunger was more intense, and it had been bothering him for a few days. It was time for him to do something about it.

Unfortunately, his "supplier," so to speak, was running low on products. Who would have thought a funeral home would have its bad days? So, this week, he would have to do something he really didn't like.

He would have to hunt.

Realizing that there was really no one else around, he decided to close the establishment and, stealthily, when he was sure everything was secure, he began to quietly walk aimlessly through the city streets.

He wasn't in a hurry to do what he had to do today, and he wanted it to be as far away from his café as possible.

Dante wasn't some kind of abuser, psychopath, or anything like that.

He was far from being a vampire as well. He didn't like to kill, and if he had to, he made such a mess that sometimes he wondered if it would be more practical to be a vampire. Then you wouldn't have to crack open the heads of the poor victims; you would just drink their blood until there was nothing left to suck. At least, that's what he thought.

When he had finally walked a few kilometers away from the street where his shop was located, he began to look for someone, preferably drunk people. They were easy targets, as they rarely noticed death coming before meeting their maker.

At this moment, Dante didn't care about the person's background, whether they were a criminal or had a loving and worried family waiting for them after a hard day's work.

All that mattered to Dante was his insatiable and inexplicable hunger, a hunger no human had ever felt. He shouldn't have gone so long without eating. Besides coffee, which he strangely could still drink without sugar, the only thing that truly satisfied him and didn't make him feel extremely nauseous was human brains.

Basically, the only downside to being a zombie.

Now that everything was in place, Dante waited a little longer, fearing that someone else might be with him. When he saw that there was no one else, he began to act.

At first, he discreetly started walking toward the man, but when he got close enough, he used his knowledge of wrestling, acquired through years of casual training, to deliver a powerful kick to the man.

However, this wasn't an ordinary kick from any fighter his size; it was powerful enough to send the man flying to the other side of the alley, breaking several bones and surely putting him on a waiting list for death.

No one would save him; only Dante and the man existed on those streets. And even if a hero did appear, the man probably wouldn't survive until the hospital.

Dante really didn't like killing. If he could, he would buy as many brains as he wanted from the nearest shop. But the world didn't work that way, and not wanting to feel the emptiness that hunger brought him, he, with just one punch, completely destroyed the man's neck, killing him instantly and releasing him from the pain Dante himself had caused.

All of this probably happened long before the drunk man even realized what was happening and understood his fate.

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A clean death, probably without much pain; that's what Dante thought. But he also understood how heinous and demonic it was.

Dante hated it, hated killing. But after doing it for a few months, he understood that if it was necessary for him, at least his victims shouldn't feel too much pain or despair.

And now, now that he had finally killed the poor man, he could finally do what he had longed for so much. With an exquisite skill gained after countless attempts, he managed to open the thick skull with his own hand, without affecting the brain too much, which, even though it wasn't in the best possible condition, was still almost entirely intact.

Dante had always been proud of being a person who had never used any drug stronger than sugar or caffeine, and he truly believed he was a well-balanced and controlled person. But faced with this, and the hunger he felt, and considering how much he had endured throughout the day, he simply, almost without thinking, took a big bite of what, for him, was the ultimate drug.

And as soon as it entered his mouth, indescribable sensations began to course through his entire body. His brain seemed to enter a state of hyper-happiness, and colors seemed to return to his world, a world that had been gray and shadowy.

At least Dante knew this sensation, and even though it had never become less powerful but rather more potent, he had learned to control his desires, especially now that, with just one bite, the hunger seemed to have disappeared as if by magic.

After returning to reality and trying to control himself as much as possible, along with his terrified part that repeatedly repeated his fears of someone recognizing him next to the corpse, he simply put the brain in a plastic container he had prepared for this moment. And, as if nothing had happened, after meticulously checking his clothes for any discrepancies, he finally began to walk back home. Of course, being so paranoid about certain things, he simply couldn't go back to his comfortable sofa immediately; he decided to walk a little more through the streets of the big, empty city while waiting for a random number he had determined himself to decide that it was time to go home.

As he walked back home, and hunger was no longer a problem, the only thing Dante felt again was a deep abyss returning to his life. Only emptiness surrounded him, and the dark, cold night didn't help improve that feeling.

Even though he wanted to live, Dante hated his life. He had always hated big cities, and now he was eternally trapped in one. His future plans had been ruined, and now the only thing that brought him some happiness was his shop, but even it was becoming increasingly gray for Dante.

Finally, when he arrived at his apartment, which was unnecessarily large for him but was an inheritance, he didn't care about these problems, especially when he saw rents going up since the last financial crisis.

After entering the main room, he went straight to the kitchen, which was in a separate room, and put the brain in the fridge. After that, he went to take a shower. Not that water brought him any sensation, whether it was extremely hot or cold, and he hadn't cared for a long time whether he walked the streets clean or dirty. But he knew that he had some false external appearance to show to others, so he always took a shower before and after going to bed.

When he finished, he went straight to bed, but not to sleep. In fact, being a zombie, he was incapable of sleeping, so he usually lay in bed with his laptop, reading a book, watching videos, or just going to the living room to play a game.

However, today he wanted to log into his favorite social network, which he hadn't visited in a while because he didn't have many people he knew to chat with in the middle of the night.

However, a few moments after entering his password and finally accessing his account, he saw that there were several unread messages, some personal chat messages, and many others from various groups where he liked to see memes or even discuss any political nonsense that happened. But for some reason, he couldn't understand, the only thing that caught his attention at that moment were some new messages from someone he simply didn't know.

Normally, this wouldn't be relevant; naturally, he would just ignore it. It could be a scam or just a bot, which wasn't very important most of the time. But something compelled him to read what that person had sent. Without thinking much about it at that moment, he just clicked on the conversation, not expecting anything from it.

And when he entered, a strange chill ran down his spine when he read, "Hi Dante... Was the hunt good today?"

Dante panicked when he read that. Who was this person? Did they know what he was, or rather, did they have proof of it?

With various thoughts filling his head, the stranger started typing again, and in a few moments, a new message appeared on his screen. "Calm down, it was just a question, man."

Trying to understand the situation so he could make the best decision possible, probably burn his apartment and run away, Dante asked, "Who are you? One of those weird vampires who wear capes? Are you guys still after me after that beating I gave you?"

After a few moments, another message appeared on his screen.