Funeral. An event held by the living to tell the departed that they never died unloved. Having visited this ceremony countless times and even been inside a casket before returning as an undead man, Brandon knew it better than any human did.

Two little girls stood before Dr. Bernard's coffin, drawing Brandon's attention with their loud cries. Death and reanimation had actually taken away most of his feelings, but he couldn't help it. With a lump building up in his throat, he recalled what he saw in the hospital yesterday.

The last time Brandon visited Bernard in the ICU, he knew there was no more hope for the poor man. Bernard lay still on his bed, his head bandaged and his breathing aided by a mechanical ventilator. Although the monitor indicated that his vital signs were fine, judging from the man's condition alone, Brandon knew they would decline sooner or later.

About thirty-six hours after the car crash, Bernard finally passed.

Brandon approached the little girls and gave them a hug, yet they only thrashed and kept bawling. Feeling rejected, he ambled away from them while looking down at the loamy soil. Poor kids... Now, they only had their mother left.

The town of Billion shows no mercy to children, Brandon thought. Mika Asagi, his fourteen-year-old adoptive child, came to him for that reason. When the undead infested the town last year, her mother and butler sacrificed themselves to buy her enough time to reach him. They knew he was one of those monsters, but because he had made a promise to protect the Asagi family before his death, they believed he'd make a good guardian to Mika.

He turned out to be a damn good one. Mika often said that he was the father she'd never had, although she preferred calling him by his name.

Amid the quiet sobs coming from the girls, he heard Mika tell a crying woman, "We're sorry for your loss, Ma'am."

Not even a woman could escape from the cruelty of the town. With her husband gone, this woman - Christina - would continue to live on her own. Wiping the tears from her eyes with a kerchief, she nodded. "Thank you."

Unable to think of the right words, Brandon only patted Christina on her shoulder and gave her a reassuring smile. The grieving woman's lips took a slight upturn in response, which delighted him.

The wind blew harder as Brandon and Mika turned around and walked towards another cluster of people in black. The thick gray clouds moved to conceal the sun. If necrolyzation hadn't killed his sense of smell, he'd have detected the fresh, earthy scent around.

Brandon approached the crowd, where Biscoe stood beside Dr. William - Bernard's younger brother - and placed a hand on the doctor's shoulder. For an ordinary Millennion mafioso, a mob boss warming up to his underling would look strange. Heck, the old man didn't even speak to Bernard's wife or kids. However, William was, like Brandon, a valuable asset to the Mafia. Without him, Brandon would've decayed to nothingness last year, and if that had happened, the organization would've never had a tough undead fighter by their side.

Recently, more and more scientists in Millennion had learned how to sustain a necrolyzer's body properly, but William had never lost his status as one of the Mafia's notable people. After all, he had the most experience in taking care of a reanimated corpse.

"Be strong," Biscoe told William, his voice muffling through the nearby chatter.

The tearful William replied with a nod.

Brandon sauntered closer to the weeping doctor. Noticing his presence, Biscoe stepped aside and asked, "You no longer need a walking stick?"

Brandon shook his head. Although deep, those gashes on his thighs only took two days to heal. A stray necrolyzer couldn't possibly have the equipment to inflict serious damage upon his body.

Nodding, Biscoe rubbed his bushy mustache. "I see."

Brandon pulled William into his one-armed embrace. He knew William was sad, but not knowing how to console a grieving adult with words, he would only give him a big hug.

From beside- no, below him, Mika spoke for him, "You've got many friends, Doc."

"But something still bothers me," William murmured. "There was a hellhound on the loose."

A hellhound? Eye widening, Brandon released William from his hug. How was that possible? Dr. Charles, the creator of the undead dog, had long died, and Brandon had plundered his lab. The healed gashes were the proof of the successful raid.

But most importantly, why hadn't anybody told him about those undead beasts?

"Doc, I've ordered my men to investigate that case since you first told us about it," Biscoe said. "Unfortunately, there was no trace of hellhounds in Billion."

"That's strange. Everybody around the car crash saw that mad dog."

"My men didn't find anything."

"You should've let me join the investigation, Sir," Brandon grumbled, staring down at Biscoe. "Let a necrolyzer deal with another necrolyzed being."

"And harm that injured necrolyzer in process? Not a chance, Brandon." Biscoe folded his arms over his chest. "When we got the news, you hadn't completely recovered yet."

Brandon growled. Biscoe had always used his injuries as an excuse to not assign him to a task, and if he had somehow rebelled, the mob boss would use Mika against him. Ask him if he loved his child and would never leave her alone, and he would back down almost in an instant.

If he could regrow his lost left arm and right leg, maybe Biscoe wouldn't be that protective of him. Never mind his lost eye; nobody cared much about it because his acute hearing more than made up for it.

"It's not good to make your little girl worry. Besides, all the agents came home unscathed. If there was really a hellhound, do you think they'd return in one piece?"

Brandon could only sigh.

===

Two days passed. Biscoe had, much to Brandon's delight, assigned him to guard the lab as the scientists conducted a research on the expired necrolyzation serum. Vials of that green fluid came from Charles' abandoned lab, and rumor said that they had turned a skinny hobo into a green-skinned giant.

With that in mind, Millennion scientists fed some of the serum to a dog before killing it. So far, the mutt hadn't sprung back to life yet. Although Brandon had preferred waiting for the beast to rise, Dr. Douglas had told him to go home. Like Biscoe, he'd used Mika against him.

Fortunately, Brandon hadn't received any emergency calls throughout the night.

Today, he would go to the lab again, but Dr. Zach had to remove his transfusion set first. Sitting on the armchair in his little trailer, he watched the doctor apply a band-aid on his hand.

"I've given you ten bags of whole blood today, so you won't need any therapy again this week." Zach stood up with the used gloves and transfusion set in his hands. "But if you're seriously injured in the next few days, you'll need another therapy."

"Well, let's just hope for the best, Doc," Mika told Zach. "Brandon's job is dangerous, but I always pray for his safety."

"Hmph, silly girl." Zach threw the garbage into the trash can. "It's impossible for someone to come home unscathed forever."

Brows furrowing, Mika yelled, "Shut up! You've been repeating that line over and over again since you replaced Dr. William!"

Zach eyed Brandon for a moment before looking back at Mika. "If he hadn't been here, I'd have slapped you, insolent kid." He approached the trailer's metallic desk, on which his briefcase lay. "Brandon, you really need to teach this brat to mind her manners."

Brandon gave Zach a death glare and snarled like an overprotective papa wolf; at a glance, one might think that he wanted to eat the doctor alive right now. Likewise, he muttered in his heart, I'd have ripped your jaw off if you hadn't worked as my temporary caretaker.

"You aren't better. No wonder why your kid is like that." Opening the trailer's door with his briefcase in his hand, the doctor glanced at Brandon. "Well, give me a shout whenever you need me." He stepped out of the trailer and closed the door.

"What an annoying doctor!" Mika crossed her arms and glared at the door. "I thought all doctors are nice people, but I was very wrong."

Brandon nodded, recalling what Biscoe told him a while back. "If Zach had behaved well like our other scientists," the mob boss said, "I might have chosen him as your caretaker. His knowledge and experience actually rival William's."

She returned her focus to Brandon. "Anyway, I'm glad that Dr. William is coming tomorrow."

Brandon nodded and pointed at his prosthetic leg on the floor beside his armchair.

"You're leaving?" Mika picked up the prosthesis and handed it to Brandon. "Come back safely, okay?"

Brandon nodded again. Well, as long as he had Cerberus, his trusty pair of .59 caliber handguns, he could protect himself better than everybody could imagine.

===

Millennion's research facility always felt like his trailer, his home. Cool wind from the air conditioners blew across the lab, which Brandon loved. According to the humans there, the lab also reeked of disinfectant, just like him when he had just received his therapy.

It was only much larger than his trailer, but Brandon never envied its size; if he had such a big residence, keeping it clean would drive him nuts.

The massive iron door slid open with a harsh screech. A chubby man in a lab coat immediately turned to him with widened eyes and a gaping mouth. As if a murderer had just arrived.

Then he grinned. "It's you, Mr. Brandon!" He sauntered to him and gave his back a friendly smack once he reached him. "How's your little girl?"

He was Dr. Douglas, one of Millennion's youngest scientists. Although he had just worked for less than a year, he knew about necrolyzation as much as his seniors did; according to others, he spent his spare time reading whatever necrolyzation-related material he had with him. Some said that this behavior of his stemmed from his eagerness to work as Brandon's caretaker - a respectable, high-paid job in the Mafia - someday.

With such friendliness, Brandon thought, striding past the doctor after waving a hand at him, he will eventually achieve his dream. Millennion values knowledge, skill, and especially good attitude.

With his hand and holstered guns at the ready, Brandon approached the gigantic capsule and stared at it. A motionless black dog lay there, its languid tongue sticking out.

"Just checked it. Apparently, the serum has yet to work," Douglas commented, his distancing footsteps echoing across the chamber. "Have a seat, my friend. An above-knee amputee like you can't possibly stand up for too long."

Brandon glanced over his shoulder and smiled. However, he would still stand close to the capsule. In case the mongrel rose, it would target him first.

An hour of standing still and watching over the dead dog brought him nothing but a stiff back. He decided to pace back and forth in front of the massive glass container.

"Instead of walking around, just sit here." Again, Douglas' remark fell on deaf ears. The doctor never learned from the experience during that one hour of waiting.

Something beeped. Brandon drew his gun and stared at the capsule. However, he found nothing but a motionless mutt behind the thick glass. Perhaps he missed something, so he moved closer to the massive container.

The dog's paws twitched. Then it slowly rose to its feet, reminding Brandon of how he first woke up after his reanimation. Its eyes remained closed.

"Hmm? The process is slower than I thought," Douglas noted, running towards the capsule. "It's not-"

A howl cut him short. The beast's eyes snapped open, red and glowing. Its claws grew big enough to take the shape of a kitchen knife. Bloody blades of bone, like some oversized sawteeth, sprouted along the dog's back. Humans would see this as a monstrosity that existed only in nightmares.

And that was why I was created. Humans need a protection from these things.

Brandon quickly pushed the big red button on the control panel of the capsule. Green gas poured into the container, but instead of collapsing, the dog let out a vigorous roar. It fixed its fiery gaze on the trembling Douglas.

Whatever the hound would do, Brandon rushed to the doctor while firing his gun at the beast. Bullets plinked against the glass and left fissures across the gas-laden capsule. Damned barrier!

"Look out, Sir!"

The dog somersaulted. The jagged bones left its body like bullets, shooting through the cracked glass before digging deep into Brandon's torso. Good thing necrolyzers couldn't sense pain properly; as long as he didn't pull these things out, he wouldn't bleed too much.

Standing on its four legs, the beast howled. A new set of jagged bones grew along its back. Once again, it flipped in the air and launched the blades at him.

Brandon shot them down, only to have another barrage coming at him. Firing at the razor-edged bones, he thought he needed a change of tactics. This dog was no different from a gun with infinite ammo.

Instead of destroying the incoming bones, Brandon fired at the knife-shooting beast. A bullet hit the dog in the eye. Another one drilled into its forehead and reduced it into an immobile hunk of black fur.

The kill didn't come without a price; Brandon's hand now felt warm and sticky. Looking down, he could see bleeding gashes along his arm.

Turning around, he found Douglas - now wearing a gas mask - cowering behind a desk. He walked to him.

His approaching footsteps brought the doctor to a standing position. "It's that dangerous." He paused. "I know Boss ordered you to come here, but I just can't thank you enough. Let me treat your wounds before you go home." As he turned to leave, he added, "I think I now know why Boss won't let you fight when you're injured. You don't mind putting yourself in harm's way for others."

"It's the best thing I can do as a necrolyzer," he muttered, "for Millennion."

===

He came home pretty messy. Although Douglas had bandaged his wounds and applied fresh necrolyzation serum on them, he couldn't hide the patches of dried blood on his t-shirt and greatcoat. Hell, the injuries could still bleed through the wound dressing and stain his clothes.

Once he pulled the trailer's steel door open, Mika put the comic down on the bench. A smile formed on her face, only to fade seconds later.

"Brandon!" she exclaimed, running to him as he closed the door. "What happened?"

"It's nothing."

"Nothing?" Wrapping her arms around his waist, she looked up at him with teary eyes. "But there's so much blood."

"Nothing serious." He hugged her back, smiling. "Dr. Douglas already took care of my wounds. Tomorrow, we can just let Dr. William do the follow-up."

"He..." Mika looked down. "He isn't coming tomorrow!"

Brandon gasped, his eye widening. What happened to the doctor? Another accident or death in his family?

"I heard that...Dr. William's sister-in-law was dead."

This couldn't be a coincidence.