The suppressor coughed—a dry, mechanical snap that barely registered over the wind outside.
Pfft.
A distinct, wet thud followed instantly.
In the elevator shaft, Dave jerked back. A hole the size of a dime appeared in the center of his grey, rocky chest. Black liquid erupted from the wound, spraying against the frosted steel doors.
Hiss.
Steam rose from the blood. Thick, white clouds swirled around the wound, contrasting sharply with the freezing air of the hallway.
"Body temperature exceeding 50°C," Alex noted, his eye glued to the scope. "That's why you didn't freeze."
The Ghoul didn't fall. It didn't even flinch. The Tungsten Core Armor-Piercing round had punched through the keratinized skin and shredded a lung, but the virus had deleted the concept of pain.
"ROAARR!"
Dave slammed his claws into the doorframe, ripping the steel apart like wet cardboard. He launched himself into the hallway. He was fast—terrifyingly fast for a creature that weighed three hundred pounds. He covered the distance between the elevator and the living room barricade in three strides, his claws carving gouges into the parquet floor.
Alex didn't panic. He didn't retreat. He adjusted his aim. Center mass was useless against a biological tank that didn't feel pain. He needed to break the mechanics.
Pfft. Pfft.
Two shots in rapid succession. The recoil pushed against Alex's shoulder, a rhythmic, comforting shove.
The first round missed the head, sparking against the wall. The second round struck Dave's right knee.
CRACK.
Physics took over. The tungsten core obliterated the patella and severed the tendons holding the leg together. The leg bent backward at a sickening angle.
Dave's momentum betrayed him. He crashed forward, his massive shoulder slamming into the heavy leather sofa Alex had used as a barricade. The furniture slid back two feet, screeching against the floor, but it held.
The Ghoul thrashed, trying to stand, but his right leg was useless ruin of black gore and bone shards. He snapped his jaws at Alex, a bear trap made of bone, saliva dripping onto the Persian rug.
"Hungry?" Alex asked, his voice flat.
He stood up from his crouch. He walked around the side of the sofa, keeping the rifle raised. Dave clawed at the floor, dragging his broken body forward. His glowing red eyes were locked on Alex's throat. There was no humanity left in them. No recognition of the man who used to live upstairs. Just a biological imperative to consume.
Alex stepped on the Ghoul's left hand, pinning it to the floor with his heel. He pressed the hot muzzle of the MK12 against the creature's forehead, right between the ridges of bone.
"Open wide."
Pfft.
The back of Dave's skull blew out. Brain matter, dark and steaming, painted the hallway wall. The massive body seized once, twitched, and then went limp. The red glow in the eyes faded to a dull, milky white.
[System Log:] [Target Neutralized: Level 1 Mutant (Ghoul).] [Combat Rating: S.] [XP Gained: 200.]
Alex lowered the rifle. The silence returned, heavy and absolute, broken only by the faint hissing of the cooling corpse. The smell of sulfur, hot copper, and burnt hair filled the penthouse.
"Messy," Alex muttered, wiping a speck of black blood from his cheek.
He knelt beside the body. According to his memories of the future, these creatures were biological reactors. The virus congregated in a central organ—a core—that drove the mutation.
He pulled a combat knife from his belt. The skin was tough, like cutting through a car tire, but the knife was sharp. He carved open the chest cavity. The heat rolling off the organs was intense, warming his hands in the freezing room.
There, nestled between the enlarged heart and the lungs, was a crystal. It was the size of a walnut, pulsating with a faint, crimson light. It looked like a piece of solidified magma.
Alex plucked it out. It was hot to the touch.
[Item Obtained: Mutant Core (Level 1)] [Type: Strength Variant] [Description: Concentrated viral energy. Can be sold for 500 EP or consumed to permanently increase physical stats.]
Alex held the crystal up to the light. 500 EP was a lot. It could buy more ammo, more food, maybe a grenade launcher. But EP couldn't stop a bullet. EP couldn't stop him from getting sick. Only a stronger body could do that.
"In the last life, only the Warlords dared to eat these," Alex whispered. "The mortality rate is 50% without a System to filter the toxins."
But he had a System.
[System Query: Purify and Consume Core?] [Survival Rate: 100%]
"Consume," Alex commanded.
He threw the bloody crystal into his mouth and swallowed it whole.
It didn't taste like rock. It tasted like spicy pepper and iron. As it hit his stomach, it dissolved instantly. A wave of heat exploded from his gut, rushing through his bloodstream like liquid fire. It wasn't painful; it was euphoric. He felt his muscle fibers tearing and knitting back together, denser and stronger. His bones ached as they hardened. His vision sharpened, the dust motes in the air becoming distinct and clear.
He gasped, gripping the edge of the sofa as the surge subsided. He stood up. He felt lighter. The heavy rifle in his hand felt like a toy.
He walked to the hallway mirror. His reflection stared back. He looked the same, but there was a subtle shift. His skin was slightly paler, smoother. And deep in his pupils, a faint, predatory glint flickered before vanishing.
He clenched his fist. The knuckles cracked like pistol shots.
[Stats Updated] [Strength: 1.5 (Human Average: 1.0)] [Agility: 1.2] [Constitution: 1.5] [Virus Immunity: 10%]
Alex looked at the dead hulk on his floor. One core had made him 50% stronger than an average man. And downstairs, on the lower floors... there were hundreds of neighbors. Hundreds of potential cores.
They weren't people anymore. They were crops.
Alex smiled, and for the first time, it wasn't a mask.
"Harvest time."