The torrential rain battered relentlessly against the doors and windows of the library gathering point, producing a constant chorus of bangs and crashes.
Several dozen survivors had gathered here, each clad in protective gear delivered by the Emergency Management Bureau. Though the protection was only ordinary grade, something was better than nothing.
Ever since putting on their gas masks, no one had spoken for a long time.
And unlike hotels or hospitals, which had plenty of rooms where people could each find a place to stay, the library only allowed everyone to gather in the halls on the first or Second Floor.
Fortunately, books were the one thing this place never lacked. Everyone held a book or scrolled through their phones to pass the time.
In a corner of the Second Floor hall, a young father and son sat together. The father was not yet forty, while the son looked to be only around ten. They were reading a book together.
Then, the man suddenly began to feel unwell. His throat and head ached, and his muscles inexplicably felt sore.
"Am I...?"
The man muttered nervously, unease and fear rising within him.
He knew full well that he had not been sick recently and had always been in good health. Yet less than a day after the sixth rule had been announced, something was already wrong with his body. That was no good omen.
"Dad, what's wrong?" his son beside him asked.
Hearing this, the man glanced around, then took his son to the restroom. After locking the door, he crouched down with his back to the boy.
"Son, look at the back of Dad's neck. Are there any red blotches?"
The first stage of Blood Plague infection was red blotches appearing on the neck and shoulders. The second stage