"Elric? Is that really you?"
Jenna's voice carried pure disbelief as she stared at Elric, her eyes wide with shock.
Elric nodded calmly, his gaze sweeping across Natasha, Grace, Elsa, and Shay—all of them frozen in various states of stunned amazement.
"Well? Why are you all staring at me like I'm some kind of museum exhibit?"
For a long moment, no one could find words.
Then all five women spoke at once in an overlapping chorus:
"Elric—you... you're incredibly handsome now!"
"How did you change so dramatically in just minutes?"
"Your muscles—your face structure—your height—everything!"
They unconsciously circled around him like he was some priceless art piece on display, examining him from every angle with undisguised fascination.
Just fifteen minutes ago, when he'd entered that spare bedroom, he had looked like a reasonably fit but ultimately ordinary young man—the kind you'd pass on the street without a second glance.
Now?
He looked sculpted. Designed. Perfected.
Sharper jawline that could cut glass. Broader shoulders creating commanding presence. Longer legs with perfect proportions. Defined waist emphasizing his athletic build. An overall aura that was instinctively magnetic and authoritative.
It was the kind of transformation that shouldn't be possible naturally—the difference between an average person and a runway model.
Elric waved them off with mild irritation.
"Don't ask unnecessary questions."
And just like that—without further argument or pleading—
Natasha, Grace, Elsa, Jenna, and Shay all nodded obediently, accepting his words without challenge.
Because now, their compliance wasn't based purely on fear or pragmatic survival instincts.
It was based on something more primal: attraction.
Power was persuasive—it commanded respect and obedience through demonstrated capability.
But physical beauty was hypnotic—it bypassed rational thought and triggered instinctive submission, especially combined with existing power dynamics.
Elric moved purposefully toward the master bathroom.
"I'm going to clean up. Don't disturb me."
[Two hours later]
Elric emerged from the bathroom fully cleaned, refreshed, and dressed in clothes that actually fit his new proportions—borrowed from Isabella's wardrobe, clearly meant for a male guest.
Grace immediately stepped forward to help adjust the collar of his shirt with careful fingers.
Jenna handed him a clean towel to dry his damp hair, her movements almost reverent.
The other women watched with barely concealed longing—not sexual necessarily, but a desire to be useful to him, to earn his attention and approval.
Elric checked his system notifications that had accumulated during the previous night:
[Rewards Generated:]
300 bottles of purified drinking water (500ml each)
1 premium roasted lamb shank (5kg)
200 Desert Eagle pistols + ammunition magazines
1 Devil Fruit Experience Point
His eyes widened slightly at the weapon cache. Two hundred pistols was excessive—but in an apocalypse, firearms were valuable trade currency even if he personally preferred abilities.
He immediately allocated the single experience point without hesitation:
[Surgical Fruit: Level 2 (19/20)]
Just one more point needed for the critical Level 3 breakthrough.
The moment it advanced, an entirely new tier of abilities would awaken—possibly expanded ROOM radius, enhanced precision cutting, or even the legendary Shambles.
He felt the anticipatory edge of power waiting to be claimed.
Elric grabbed his black 1.5-meter combat blade—Olivia's knife—and strapped it across his back in a proper harness.
"All of you stay here. Lock the door. Don't open it for anyone, no matter who knocks or what they say."
Natasha nodded immediately with serious understanding.
Shay moved to secure the deadbolt.
Elsa double-checked that all the curtains were drawn, preventing outside observation.
Grace positioned herself near the door, ready to respond to any emergency.
Jenna gave an unnecessary but enthusiastic salute, because Jenna was constitutionally incapable of taking anything entirely seriously.
Elric continued his instructions:
"I'm going out to scout the area and handle some business. I'll be back within a few hours."
There were two critical reasons for this expedition—both equally important:
First: Search for any new potential recruits in the surrounding area—specifically, women who met the system's compatibility standards and could generate valuable rewards.
Second: Hunt a mutated creature, extract its energy core, and push his Surgical Fruit ability to Level 3 immediately.
Yes, he could theoretically scan the entire residential area with Clairvoyance while sitting comfortably in the penthouse—but that would require hours of motionless concentration, slowly sweeping through each building methodically.
Walking through the environment while maintaining passive scanning was significantly faster and more efficient, allowing him to cover ground while simultaneously searching for targets.
He stepped into the hallway and descended the stairs, whistling lightly with surprising good mood.
With his current physical strength—approximately twenty times a normal human's capability—he moved effortlessly, each step light and controlled despite his increased mass.
So long as he didn't encounter something on the catastrophic scale of that campus cocoon abomination...
He could fight whatever appeared.
Or escape if necessary.
Completely at will. On his own terms.
Outside the apartment building, the Silverleaf Estates community appeared eerily quiet and peaceful.
Only the drifting rainbow-colored mist hanging in the air like supernatural silk, and the soft rustle of leaves in the contaminated breeze.
Elric activated his Clairvoyance ability, methodically scanning Building 9 floor by floor with systematic precision.
No system-qualified women detected.
That result was somewhat expected but still mildly disappointing.
Silverleaf Estates contained 33 residential buildings total according to the community map—and based on Natasha's description, the higher the price range of each building, the higher the concentration of glamour, vanity, and professionally curated beauty among residents.
Models, influencers, actresses, wealthy young women who built their entire identities around appearance and social status.
There would absolutely be prospects here—high-value targets who could generate substantial system rewards.
Just not in this particular building, which seemed to have been largely abandoned during the initial outbreak.
He continued walking purposefully toward the front gate of the gated community.
He remembered something important:
There had been a mutated creature spotted near the Mountain Mother Supermarket just outside the neighborhood's perimeter—something described as spider-like and extremely territorial based on survivor radio chatter he'd intercepted.
A perfect target for his current needs.
Hunt the creature. Extract its core. Strengthen himself through absorption. Push Surgical Fruit to Level 3.
A simple, efficient formula for power progression.
When Elric reached the main gate checkpoint, he saw the security guards gathered there.
But these were not normal men anymore—not even close.
They had clearly mutated—thickened muscle mass bulging unnaturally beneath torn uniforms, bone structure warped into crooked angles, their overall silhouettes distorted into something subtly wrong and threatening.
They had once been professional neighborhood security personnel, responsible for protecting wealthy residents.
Now they behaved like thugs—scavenging supplies, looting abandoned homes, using the gated community as their personal territory and hunting ground.
But today?
Something was different.
They were gathered in a tight cluster near the security booth, speaking in low, tense voices that carried unusual urgency.
Not laughing their usual cruel laughs.
Not playing cards or drinking stolen alcohol.
Not assaulting captured women in the booth.
Just... nervous. Genuinely on edge.
As if something significant had changed in the power dynamics, something that threatened even mutated humans like themselves.
Elric slowed his approach, his enhanced senses picking up fragments of their agitated conversation.
His hand moved casually to rest on the handle of the black combat blade strapped across his back, fingers finding the familiar grip with practiced ease.
Whatever had these enhanced guards so rattled was worth investigating.
And if they tried to stop him from leaving?
Well.
He needed combat practice anyway.
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