Jin Yeong stood frozen, his breath steady despite the chaos around him. The monster's corpse sprawled at his feet, its jagged, armored limbs twisted across the blood-slicked linoleum. Black ichor dripped from the pocket knife in his hand, the blade too short, too flimsy for the clean, impossible cut it had made through the creature's throat. His chest rose and fell, calm in a way that felt alien. His hands didn't shake. His heart didn't race.
That scared him more than the monster.
The woman he'd saved stood a few steps away, clutching her injured leg, her eyes fixed on him—not the creature's corpse, but him. Her face was pale, her dark hair clinging to her sweat-drenched forehead, her torn blouse hanging loosely at the shoulder. She looked like she'd seen something impossible.
"You… you killed it," she whispered, her voice trembling with disbelief.
Jin's grip tightened on the knife, the metal warm against his palm. He didn't answer. He couldn't. His mind replayed the moment in fractured flashes: the monster's claws arcing down, his body moving before he could think, the knife slicing through flesh like it was air. It had been too easy, too instinctive. Like the blade had known where to go before he did.
A soft ding echoed in his ears, sharp and unnatural in the silence.
A blue screen flickered into existence before him, its glow casting shadows across the ruined office.
[ Skill Activation Successful ]
[ Combat Proficiency Increased ]
[ Survive. Adapt. Overcome. ]
The words pulsed, cold and clinical, lingering like a challenge. Jin blinked, his throat tight. Combat proficiency increased? What did that even mean? He ran a hand through his damp hair, the motion grounding him as the screen faded. No time to dwell on it. Not now.
The woman took a halting step toward him, wincing as her twisted ankle buckled. "How did you do that?" she asked, her voice raw, searching.
Jin glanced at the knife, its blade streaked with black. "I just… moved," he muttered, the words feeling inadequate. He wasn't ready to explain something he didn't understand himself.
Before she could press further, a sound sliced through the air—skrrrrrk. Like claws dragging across metal, deliberate and predatory. Jin's head snapped up. At the far end of the hallway, the thin-limbed crawler from earlier stood, its cluster of insect-like eyes glinting in the dim light. Its spindly limbs twitched, claws scraping the tile. It wasn't alone. Two more creatures skittered behind it, their movements jerky, their jagged mouths dripping with hunger.
Jin's stomach plummeted. One had nearly killed them. Now there were three.
He grabbed the woman's wrist, his voice low and urgent. "Move."
She nodded, biting back a whimper as she hobbled forward. Jin half-dragged her, his eyes scanning the hallway. The stairwell was their only shot—six floors down to the exit. If the streets were as bad as the office, they were in trouble, but staying here was a death sentence.
The skittering grew louder, a relentless clicking that clawed at his nerves. The creatures weren't rushing—they were stalking, savoring the chase. Jin's grip on the knife tightened, his knuckles whitening. The hallway stretched endlessly, the red exit sign flickering like a dying star.
They reached the stairwell door, slightly ajar. Jin shoved it open with his shoulder, pulling the woman inside. The air hit him like a slap—thick with the metallic stench of blood and something sour, like decay. His stomach churned, but he didn't stop. The stairwell wasn't empty.
Five survivors huddled on the stairs, their faces pale, their bodies tense. A man in a torn dress shirt clutched a steel pipe, his knuckles bloodless. Another, a younger guy with blood-streaked sleeves, held a broken chair leg like a club. A woman in a blazer stood rigid, her eyes darting toward the door. Two others—a man and a woman—crouched low, their breathing shallow.
They all turned as Jin and the injured woman stumbled in. Their gazes locked onto him, then slid to the knife in his hand, its blade glistening with black ichor. The air grew heavy, charged with unspoken questions.
The man with the pipe stepped forward, his voice low, hesitant. "Did you… kill one of those things?"
Jin's jaw tightened. He didn't answer, his eyes flicking to the stairwell below. Six floors. Too far. He could feel their stares, their mix of fear and hope, but he didn't have time for this.
The injured woman's grip on his arm tightened, her voice barely a whisper. "You did, didn't you?"
He shrugged, his tone clipped. "Does it matter? We need to move."
Before anyone could respond, the stairwell shook. A deep, resonant thud echoed from above, vibrating through the metal railing. Dust sifted from the ceiling, and the air grew thick, oppressive. Jin's breath caught. The others froze, their eyes wide.
Another thud. Closer. Heavier.
The railing trembled under Jin's hand. This wasn't the crawlers—those were quick, twitchy, all sharp edges and hunger. This was different. Slow. Deliberate. Massive.
The woman in the blazer swallowed hard, her voice barely audible. "What the hell is that?"
No one answered. They didn't need to. The air itself answered—a long, wet inhale, deep enough to pull at their clothes, their hair. It was smelling them.
Jin's fingers tightened around the knife. His pulse pounded, but his body stayed calm, steady, like it knew something he didn't. The survivors shifted, their fear a tangible weight. The man with the pipe gripped it harder, his hands shaking. The woman with the blazer took a step back, her eyes darting to the door.
Another thud. The walls groaned, concrete cracking under immense pressure. A shadow stretched down from the upper landing, long and distorted. Then—eyes. Two glowing red pits, burning through the haze.
The stairwell lurched as something massive pressed against the walls, too wide for the narrow space. Metal screamed, bending under the weight. A hand—gnarled, jagged, fingers like broken stone—wrapped around the railing above. The steel crumpled like paper.
Jin's throat closed. Someone muffled a scream. The air felt wrong, too small, like the creature was sucking the space out of existence.
It moved.
The walls exploded inward, concrete and steel raining down. Jin's body reacted before his mind could catch up. "MOVE!" he roared, shoving the injured woman toward the stairs.
The group bolted, their footsteps a chaotic drumbeat. The monster lunged, faster than anything that size should be. Its arm swept down, claws gleaming, and caught the man with the broken chair leg. He didn't even have time to scream. One moment he was running; the next, he was gone, yanked upward into the darkness. A wet crunch echoed, followed by silence.
Jin's chest tightened. He didn't look back. No one did. They couldn't afford to.
The stairwell shook as they descended, the creature's weight cracking the steps behind them. Dust choked the air, and the stench of blood grew thicker. Jin's grip on the injured woman's arm was iron, her limping steps slowing them both. The others sprinted ahead, their panic a living thing.
The monster's breathing followed them, a deep, shuddering rasp that rattled in Jin's bones. It wasn't rushing—it didn't need to. It was hunting, and they were trapped.
"We're not outrunning it," Jin muttered, his voice low, urgent. He glanced at the group, their faces pale and streaked with sweat. "Anyone got something useful?"
The man with the pipe hesitated, his voice rough. "Enhanced strength. But it's… it's not enough for that." He jerked his head upward, where the creature's shadow loomed.
The woman in the blazer spoke fast, her words clipped. "Heightened reflexes. Barely helps when I can't see it coming."
A third survivor, a young woman clutching her arm, stammered, "I can heal, but it's slow. I don't know if it'll matter."
Jin's eyes flicked to the injured woman beside him. She was breathing hard, her face tight with pain. "What about you?" he asked, keeping his voice low.
She met his gaze, her eyes grim but steady. "I can alter gravity—make things heavier or lighter. But it's unreliable. Last time, it went off by accident, made the desk crush my leg." She grimaced, glancing at her twisted ankle.
Jin nodded, his mind racing. Unreliable or not, it was something. "Can you use it now?"
She hesitated, then nodded. "I'll try. But if it backfires…"
"Do it," he said, softer this time, not a command but a plea. He wasn't about to order her around—not after what she'd been through.
The stairwell shook again, a deep groan of metal and concrete. The creature was close, its claws scraping the walls, its breathing a wet, hungry growl. Jin's eyes darted to the knife in his hand. It had worked before, but against this thing? He wasn't sure.
They rounded another landing, the exit still floors away. The monster's arm swung down, claws tearing through the stairwell like paper. Jin shoved the woman forward, diving to the side as the impact sent cracks splintering through the steps. Debris stung his face, and his knife slipped from his grip, clattering into the rubble.
"No!" Jin lunged for it, but a chunk of concrete crashed down, burying the blade. His heart sank. It was gone.
The monster's head loomed into view, its red eyes locking onto him. Its maw opened, a gaping void of needle-like teeth. Jin's ribs ached from the earlier impact, his breath coming in sharp gasps. He was defenseless.
The man with the pipe hesitated, then shouted, "Here!" He tossed the steel pipe, the metal glinting as it arced through the air.
Jin caught it, the weight solid in his hands. A blue screen flickered.
[ Weapon Acquired: Steel Pipe ]
The moment his fingers closed around it, something shifted. The pipe felt right, like it had been forged for him. Its balance, its weight, its potential—it was all clear, as if he'd wielded it a thousand times. His stance adjusted, feet planting firmly, shoulders squaring. His eyes tracked the monster's movements, every twitch, every shift of its massive frame.
Limitless Weapon Mastery. The skill hummed in his veins, alive and instinctive.
The monster lunged, its claws sweeping down. Jin moved, ducking low, pivoting on his heel. The pipe swung in a clean arc, slamming into the creature's knee joint with a sharp crack. The monster stumbled, its massive body lurching forward.
Jin didn't stop. He flowed forward, spinning the pipe in a downward strike, aiming for the side of its skull. The impact sent a wet crunch echoing through the stairwell. The creature's head snapped to the side, black ichor spraying across the wall.
He adjusted instantly, stepping into its space, gripping the pipe like a hammer. He swung upward, targeting the throat. Another crunch, and the monster reeled, its red eyes flickering with pain.
Jin pressed the advantage, his movements fluid, precise. He drove the pipe down, aiming for the base of its skull. The strike landed with a sickening crack, and the creature shuddered, its massive body collapsing like a felled tree. The stairwell shook as it hit the ground, dust rising in a choking cloud.
Jin stood over it, chest heaving, the pipe dripping black. Silence settled, broken only by the ragged breaths of the survivors.
A soft ding.
[ Weapon Efficiency Increased ]
[ Survive. Adapt. Overcome. ]
Jin's shoulders slumped, the pipe heavy in his hand. The woman beside him stared, her eyes wide but steady. "You're… not normal," she said, her voice soft, not accusing but awed.
He shrugged, wiping sweat from his brow. "Just trying to stay alive," he muttered, deflecting. He wasn't ready to unpack whatever this was—not yet.
The ground shook again. A low growl rumbled from above, deeper, hungrier. Another one was coming.
Jin tightened his grip on the pipe. The knife was gone, but this would do. For now.
"We keep moving," he said, his voice low, steady. The others nodded, their fear tempered by the sight of the dead monster at his feet.
The exit was close. But the growls were closer.
They ran.