I've read it somewhere (again).

  That during extreme trauma, you forget things as a defense mechanism.

  'Odd.' I thought, blinking as I lay on the floor of the 7th Circle near the gateway to the sixth. I’ve respawned the same place I died.

  'I remember everything. The whole torture...'

  I blinked.

  '...I think.'

  'But how should I say it...' I took a deep breath.

  'After dying, it's as though I've woken up from a long dream. Time rearranged itself back into place in my perspective. Things make sense now... The details of the [Visions of Death] are becoming fuzzy in my head... Is it the spell's nature? Or me?' I wondered.

  A few seconds passed of me just staring at the ceiling. I've missed the damp air of circles 8 to 10.

  I feel an urge to go even further back for a bit, and sleep there.

  I would've done it already, actually...

  ... If it weren't for this itch again.

  The itch that makes me get up on my legs and walk towards the next level.

  I felt it even at this point.

  I wanted to feel what I felt when I hunted that goblin and the mutt. Now.

  'I hate how I was caught off-guard by that fucker. I want to correct it.' I thought as I stood on my feet, moving towards the newly unlocked door of the sixth.

  And right now, as I happened to think about this itch...

  A comparison showed itself in my head.

  I felt it before back in my world, actually.

  'When I wanted to watch porn, or jerk off to pictures of… her.' I cringed at the thought, shaking my head.

  That's what I feel now as I march towards the sixth level.

  Except...

  ... This is orders of magnitudes more powerful than wanting to jerk off.

  Like I was hungry.

  I opened the door.

  Same as before, my new North is forward.

  A dark hallway with no light. Granite walls and floors, similar to the 9th Circle where that Goblin was.

  Except this time, my enemy was clear.

  It wasn't just one.

  There were hundreds of what appeared to be zombies.

  Rotting flesh and decayed skin stitched onto broken skeletons. The smell was similar to the 10th circle when that mutt was alive.

  They were slow, sluggish... Boringly so.

  And like the seventh, the door to the next level was straight ahead. This room was roughly twice as long as the seventh one.

  '... Better get to it.' I grabbed a zombie and punched its head. Its face caved in as its body was flung to the opposite end.

  The body hit the wall with a wet crunch.

  Then it stood back up.

  'What?'

  The zombie's head was completely destroyed—jaw hanging by a thread, skull fragments embedded in the granite—but it was already shambling back toward me.

  'Interesting.'

  I grabbed another one by the throat and slammed it into the floor repeatedly. Once. Twice. Ten times. The skull pulverized into paste against the stone.

  I let go.

  The headless body twitched, then pushed itself upright with its arms. No head. Just a neck stump leaking black ichor. And it was still moving toward me.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  'Okay...'

  I started tearing through them. Ripping limbs off, caving in chests, shattering spines. The bodies piled up, but nothing stayed down. A torso with no legs dragged itself forward with its arms. A severed hand crawled like a spider. Even the fingers I'd snapped off were twitching, inching toward me.

  'They don't die.'

  I was halfway through the room when one of them got me.

  A scratch. Just one. Across my forearm, slicing clean through my armor.

  I looked down at the shallow wound, barely bleeding.

  '...Ah.'

  The infection spread fast.

  Black veins crawled up my arm like roots, spreading across my chest, my neck, my face. My skin started to rot. I could feel it—the flesh softening, peeling, the muscles beneath turning to mush.

  I tried to scream, but my throat was already collapsing.

  [You have been infected: Zombie Mutation]

  [Transformation in progress...]

  The pain was unlike anything I'd felt in this dungeon. Not the mutt's claws. Not the goblin's blade. Not even the decade of psychological torture.

  But I was still lucid.

  I took out a Super Life Elixir and drank it whole.

  [Transformation nullified!]

  My body snapped back to perfect shape instantly.

  'That was dangerous...'

  I gasped, steadying myself on my hands and knees.

  Alive. My Overgear repairing where the zombie cut through the armor.

  The zombies were still shambling toward me, slow and inevitable.

  '...Okay. So scratches are lethal. Noted.'

  I stood, brushing myself off.

  'Alright. Let's focus on just one.'

  I looked at a severed finger making its way toward me like a worm.

  I crushed it under my foot. Obsessively. Ground it down until it was nothing but powder.

  The powder still moved.

  Tiny, almost imperceptible vibrations. Like each particle was trying to crawl toward the others, to reform.

  'What the fuck.'

  I crouched down, watching the dust shift and writhe.

  Then I remembered the Super Life Elixir curing me from the infection.

  I pulled another Super Life Elixir from my inventory and poured it over the pile of zombie dust.

  The liquid sizzled on contact, evaporating into steam.

  The dust kept moving.

  '...WHAT THE FUCK?'

  I stood, looking out over the room. Hundreds of zombies. Unkillable by conventional means... or any means, really. One scratch meant death.

  And the door was still at the other end.

  '...This is going to be annoying.'

  Later.

  I retreated to the Seventh Circle.

  Nothing worked.

  Sitting. Contemplating.

  'Should I maybe use [Dungeon Gateway] and risk it in the Royal Capital? Perhaps the world outside is nowhere near as strong as Lord Azhar.'

  '....'

  [You have been infected: Zombie Mutation]

  [INFECTION IN PROGRESS!]

  'WHAT?! I haven't been scratched!'

  Pain. I hurriedly took out a Super Life Elixir and drank it.

  [Transformation nullified!]

  'What the fuck was that...!? A delayed re—'

  [You have been infected: Zombie Mutation]

  [INFECTION IN PROGRESS!]

  '...!!!'

  It was only then that it occurred to me.

  The zombie dust I'd ground earlier. The one that kept inching toward me.

  'What if it's on me? And I keep breathing it in!?'

  And that's when I started chugging.

  [Transformation nullified!]

  [You have been infected: Zombie Mutation]

  [INFECTION IN PROGRESS!]

  'FUCK!' I hurriedly removed my armor and clothes, stepping away naked. Drinking another potion.

  [Transformation nullified!]

  [You have been infected: Zombie Mutation]

  [INFECTION IN PROGRESS!]

  'MOTHERFUCKER...!' I drank another potion as I tried to think.

  [Transformation nullified!]

  For the first time in a long time... I felt... panic.

  [You have been infected: Zombie Mutation]

  [INFECTION IN PROGRESS!]

  I drank again.

  [Transformation nullified!]

  [You have been infected: Zombie Mutation]

  [INFECTION IN PROGRESS!]

  It was on me. Somewhere. Inside me. And it kept happening no matter how many times I drank a Life Elixir.

  But the more it happened and the more I drank, the more I got used to it. I could think.

  'Alright.'

  'This will be the first time I've done it myself.'

  My Rotting Soul. This was the only way.

  All I could do was pray to God that this thing wouldn't follow me through death.

  I extended both of my arms.

  [You have been infected: Zombie Mutation]

  [INFECTION IN PROGRESS!]

  "HARD SWING!"

  I activated the skill and smashed my own head with both fists.

  It was swift.

  This time I respawned on the 8th Circle floor rather than the seventh.

  Naked. Clean.

  And I simply waited, holding my breath.

  1 hour.

  2 hours.

  Counting the seconds...

  No infection.

  I could almost cry from relief...

  ... If it wasn't for that fucking itch again, urging me to go back and solve this…

  ... and hunt them.