In the café, Lia tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and looked at Lin. "Do you come here often?" she asked, her voice soft and inviting.
Lin shook his head, still feeling a bit dazed by her smile. "No, first time actually. What about you?"
"I'm a regular," she replied with a giggle. "The coffee is good, but the company is usually better."
She seemed like she wanted to talk more, but suddenly, a bright yellow light flashed in Lin's vision. The system screen appeared, glowing with a sense of urgency.
[TIMER WARNING]
Time Remaining: 07:00:00
Current Progress: 75/200 Push-ups, 0/200 Sit-ups.
Penalty for failure: Paralysis.
Lin's stomach tightened. He looked at the girl, then back at the timer. The thought of him not being able to move in the middle of a café was enough to make him jump out of his seat.
"I'm so sorry, Lia," Lin said, backing away quickly. "I just remembered I have... a very important appointment. It was great meeting you!"
He bolted out of the café before she could even say goodbye. He ran all the way home, burst into his room, and hit the floor. He started cranking out sit-ups as fast as his body would allow, the sweat dripping onto his carpet.
A few blocks away, the holiday spirit felt very different for a waiter. He was finishing a long shift as a waiter at a local restaurant. He moved with a strange, stiff rhythm, clearing plates and wiping tables with a bored expression.
"I really don't understand why I have to work during the holidays," he murmured.
Finally, the shift ended. The night was dark and the streets were quiet. As he walked out, his coworkers waved goodbye. One of them usually walks beside him on their way home. "So, Frank, what are you doing for the rest of your holiday?"
Frank's eyes looked hollow, almost lifeless. "I don't know," he said in a flat tone. "I'll probably just eat a lot."
They reached a crossroads where their paths split. "Take care, man! See you tomorrow!" the coworker called out.
Frank didn't answer. He was focused on the gnawing, empty feeling in his stomach. He was hungry, starving, in a way that food couldn't fix. He walked down a side street and stopped in front of a neon-lit brothel. Let me ease this tension a little, he thought.
He walked inside, the red lights reflecting in his dull eyes. He approached the person in charge and spoke with a low, gravelly voice. "Give me a girl. Someone with large boobs."
He was assigned a room. He went inside, stripped off his clothes, and lay on the bed. A few minutes later, a young woman in a thin silk robe walked in. She was smiling, but as soon as her eyes met Frank's, her expression froze. He was leaning on his elbow, staring at her with eyes that looked like empty black pits.
A chilling sensation ran down the lady's spine. Every instinct in her body told her to run, but she was trapped by her job.
Frank stood up. He walked over to her and lifted her up, wrapping her legs around his waist. He began to kiss her, he slot his dick into her pussy and started to stroke aggressively. They moved to the bed, and as they continued to have sex, the girl started to moan and groan.
"Oh yes... oh yes..." she cried out, her eyes closed.
But the moans of pleasure suddenly turned into a horrific scream.
Frank's hand had changed. With a single thrust, he drove his hand straight through the girl's stomach. She kicked and clawed at his face, her eyes wide with shock and agony as she struggled to breathe. Blood soaked the white sheets, turning them a deep red color.
Frank leaned into her ear, with a terrifying whisper. "Don't worry," he said as he felt her life fade. "You won't go to waste."
Outside the room, the other girls and the staff heard the scream. They knocked on the door, but there was no response.
"Open up! Is everything okay in there?" a girl shouted.
A few of the male customers kicked the door in. The room was a scene from a nightmare. The girl lay dead on the bed, her skin pale and dry as if all the life had been sucked out of her. There was a gaping hole in her stomach. Her boobs were cut off.
The women screamed, and the brothel turned into total chaos. People scrambled over each other to get to the exit. "Where is the man?!" the manager yelled.
The window was wide open, the cold winter air blowing the curtains. A group of men ran to the ledge to look down, but the alleyway was empty. Several of the staff members didn't even wait for the police; they simply ran away.
Frank walked calmly through a dark alleyway a few blocks away. He adjusted his watch, looking satisfied. "That should hold me over for a while," he muttered, putting his hands in his pockets.
He blinked, and then he stopped.
Standing at the end of the alley was a young man in a black suit, smiling at him. Frank turned and looked over his shoulder, the other way, but he found his path blocked by another man the tall detective, Yanda.
"Why are you in such a rush, Daburra?" The young man asked, his voice rather cheerful.
Frank's eyes widened in shock. He frowned instantly, his body tensing up like a wild animal. "How do you know that name?"
The young man in front of him smiled even wider. "A friend of mine told me all about you."