The ringing in his ears eventually faded, replaced by the sound of his own ragged breathing. Leo stood over the goblin, the twisted piece of brass heavy in his trembling hand. The adrenaline was gone, a phantom limb, leaving behind a profound, bone-deep exhaustion and a churning in his stomach. The air tasted of dust and something else, something coppery and foul. He had just killed. Twice. He swallowed hard against the rising bile.
He forced himself to look away from the… result. The lobby was destroyed. The magnificent chandelier was now a mountain of glittering, deadly scrap. He was alone. A series of notifications pinged in his vision, one after another, crisp and clinical against the carnage.
[Threat Neutralized. XP Gained: 10] [Threat Neutralized. XP Gained: 10] [Threat Neutralized. XP Gained: 10] [Congratulations! You have reached Level 2.] [New Skill Unlocked: Minor Edit]
He stared at the words, a hysterical laugh bubbling in his chest. Level up. New skill. It was all just a game. A sick, horrifying game. He dismissed the windows with a wave of nausea and his gaze fell on the wreckage. Near the mangled goblin bodies, small, shimmering objects floated just above the debris. They looked like pieces of broken glass, glowing with a soft, internal light.
Loot. His brain supplied the word automatically, a decade of gaming muscle memory cutting through the horror. The absurdity of it—looting corpses in his own office building—made him want to laugh. Or scream. He stared at the glowing shards for a long moment, then cautiously reached out and touched one. It dissolved into his hand, and another window popped up.
[Item Acquired: Corrupted Data Fragment x3]
He had no idea what it meant. He needed to get out of the open. He scanned the ground floor. The main security office door was slightly ajar. A better place to hide than the middle of a wrecked lobby. He pushed the door open and slipped inside.
The office was empty, but not undisturbed. Papers were scattered, a chair was knocked over. In the corner, a man was crouched over the main security console, its front panel ripped off, revealing a tangle of wires. The man was muttering to himself, probing the wires with a pair of scissors.
"No, no, the current's not stable… if I bypass the primary capacitor…"
It was Ben, from the mailroom. A quiet, lanky guy who always looked like he'd just woken up. He seemed completely oblivious to Leo's entrance, utterly absorbed in his task.
"Ben?" Leo's voice was a rough croak.
Ben jumped, spinning around with the scissors held out like a weapon. Surprise froze his features. "Don't—! Oh. Leo. It's you." He lowered the scissors, relief washing over his face. "Did you see what happened out there? The chandelier… it just fell."
"I, uh… I made it fall," Leo admitted. The words felt strange in his mouth.
Ben just stared at him. Before he could ask the hundred questions clearly visible on his face, another voice cut in, sharp and controlled.
"He saved us. That's what happened."
A woman emerged from behind a bank of filing cabinets. Chloe, one of the receptionists. She was always impeccably dressed, her voice calm and professional even when dealing with the most irate clients. She looked it now, too, despite the circumstances. Her blazer was still neat, her expression composed, though her knuckles were white where she gripped a heavy-duty stapler.
"We saw it from the security monitors," she said, nodding toward a screen that showed a static-filled view of the lobby. "You saved Carol. You saved all of us."
"I got lucky," Leo mumbled, leaning against a desk. His legs felt like they were about to give out.
Suddenly, a loud, brutish voice boomed from the lobby. "Anybody in here? I saw what you did! That was my kill!"
The three of them froze. A large, heavyset man strode into the security office. It was Dave, from Sales. A notorious bully who ran his department through fear and intimidation. He had a wild look in his eyes, and he was breathing hard, his knuckles scraped and bloody. A blue nameplate floated above his head: [Dave, Brawler Lv. 3].
Level three? The thought hit Leo with a jolt. How is he already level three? How many has he killed?
"I was working on those things!" Dave bellowed, pointing a thick finger at Leo. "Took down four of those things on the second floor myself! You owe me the XP for that!"
"We don't owe you anything, Dave," Chloe said, her voice steady, though she took a step back.
"Shut it, sweetheart," Dave sneered. He puffed out his chest. "I'm in charge now. I'm the strongest. Everything here belongs to me. So, you're gonna give me whatever you found on those things, and any food you've got." He took a menacing step toward Chloe.
Leo moved, putting himself between them. "Leave them alone."
Dave laughed, a harsh, grating sound. "You? You're just the IT guy. What are you gonna do? Threaten to reset my password?" He balled his hands into fists and swung a clumsy, powerful haymaker at Leo's head.
Time seemed to slow. Leo knew he couldn't dodge. He couldn't block. He was going to get hit, and it was going to hurt. But he had a new skill. [Minor Edit]. He didn't know what it did. He didn't have time to test it.
He focused on Dave's feet. Specifically, on the perfectly tied lace of his right boot. He activated the skill, a single, reflexive command in his mind. Edit.
A window, simpler than the [Inspect Element] one, flashed in his vision.
Object: Shoelace [Property: Tied]
He focused on the property, and with a surge of mental effort, he changed it.
[Property: Untied]
The world tilted. For a second, everything went gray. It felt like his brain had been squeezed in a vise. But he saw it. Dave's shoelace, in the real world, instantly unraveled.
Dave was already committed to his lunge. His forward momentum, combined with the suddenly loose boot, sent him off balance. He stumbled, his arms windmilling. He didn't just trip; he crashed, his entire bulk slamming into a metal desk with a sickening crunch. He slid to the floor, dazed and groaning.
No one moved. No one spoke.
Then Ben moved. He lunged forward, not with the scissors, but with a mess of wires he'd been holding, which he jammed against Dave's neck. There was a loud crackle of electricity and a sharp smell of ozone. Dave's body convulsed, and then he lay still, unconscious.
Ben stared down at the jury-rigged taser in his hand, looking surprised it had actually worked. Chloe let out a shaky breath, her professional mask finally cracking.
Leo just stood there, his head pounding, staring at the unconscious bully on the floor. He hadn't thrown a punch. He hadn't landed a blow. He had won by untying a shoe. He looked at Ben with his makeshift weapon and Chloe with her stapler, and a dizzying, terrifying thought occurred to him.
What the hell are we becoming?