The screams intensified as the minutes passed, a symphony of death and terror that filled the air like a physical presence.
From their vantage point by the window, Len Fang and Marel watched as the monsters tore through the unprepared population with brutal efficiency. Goblins swarmed in packs, dragging down anyone they caught. Kobolds moved with disturbing intelligence, coordinating their attacks and cutting off escape routes.
Bodies were already littering the streets, some still moving, most not.
Marel's face had gone from pale to green as he witnessed the carnage, his hands gripping the edge of the furniture so hard his knuckles turned white.
Then something caught his attention—a pattern in the chaos.
"Len," Marel said, his voice shaking slightly. "Why... why are some of the monsters not attacking the buildings? Look, there—that group of goblins just ran past that apartment complex completely."
Len Fang nodded, expecting this question. "Buildings are safe zones," he explained, his voice calm despite the horror outside. "People who are inside buildings, within four walls and a roof, cannot be attacked by monsters during this initial phase."
Marel's eyes widened with hope. "Then we're safe? Everyone in buildings is safe?"
"Not exactly." Len Fang's expression was grim. "The problem is that the more people there are in a safe zone, the more it becomes weaker and smaller. Too many people packed into one space, and the protection starts to fail."
He pointed toward the street where the chaos continued.
"Everyone outside on the streets right now, or at filling stations, in parks, anywhere that are not in any building—they are not safe one bit. They're all going to die unless they can reach shelter fast enough."
Marel swallowed hard, processing this information.
"And the smaller a building is, the weaker the safe zone," Len Fang continued. "A house like ours can maybe protect five, maybe six people maximum before the protection starts breaking down. A large apartment complex might handle thirty or forty. But cramming too many people into any space will eventually collapse the safe zone entirely."
The implication hung heavy in the air between them.
"Marel," Len Fang said, turning to face his brother directly. His expression was serious, harder than Marel had ever seen it. "You should and must stay inside this apartment. Do not open the door for anyone. Do not let anyone in. Do you understand me?"
"But Len, what about you? Where are you going?" Marel's voice rose with concern and fear.
"I have a goal," Len Fang said simply, his hand already moving toward the door. "Something I need to do while everyone else is panicking. I'll be back."
"Len, wait—"
But Len Fang was already moving, opening the apartment door and stepping into the hallway.
"Lock the door behind me. Don't open it for anyone but me," he commanded, and then he was gone.
Marel stood frozen for a moment before rushing to lock the door, his heart pounding with fear for his brother.
...
Len Fang moved down the stairs of the apartment building with measured steps, his breathing controlled despite the adrenaline coursing through his veins.
He could hear the monsters' screams for real now, up close—the chittering of goblins, the hissing of kobolds, the wet sounds of feeding. The sounds echoed through the building's walls from outside, making the nightmare feel viscerally real.
But he was used to this. He had lived with these sounds for sixteen years. They no longer paralyzed him with fear.
He reached the ground floor landing, near the building's main entrance, and peered through the reinforced glass door.
The street outside was carnage. Blood painted the pavement. Bodies lay scattered. Monsters prowled, searching for more prey.
Then he saw movement—a woman, bloodied and limping, rushing toward the building entrance with desperate speed.
Behind her, a small goblin gave chase, its yellow eyes gleaming with predatory hunger, its crude claws reaching for her back.
She was going to make it. She was close enough to reach the door, to enter the safe zone, to survive.
Her hand stretched out, fingers reaching for the door handle—
Len Fang moved.
He pushed open the door just enough, stepped partially outside the threshold, and as the woman's hand touched the door handle, as relief began to flood her terror-stricken face—
Stab.
His knife plunged into her chest with practiced precision, right between the ribs, angled upward toward the heart.
Her eyes went wide, not with pain but with incomprehension. She had been so close. She had almost made it.
She looked at Len Fang's face, trying to understand, trying to ask why.
But he offered no explanation, no apology. His expression was neutral, almost bored.
Len Fang removed the knife from her body as she collapsed, not feeling anything—no guilt, no remorse, no satisfaction. Just cold pragmatism.
Her body hit the ground, and the goblin that had been chasing her immediately fell upon the corpse, distracted by the easy meal.
Then, unexpectedly, a notification appeared before Len Fang's eyes.
[ You have killed one of your own kind! ]
[ Blood Core acquired: Human (Common) ]
[ +1 Blood Core added to inventory ]
Len Fang's eyes narrowed slightly at the notification. Blood cores? This was new—or rather, something he didn't remember from his previous timeline.
But he filed the information away for later analysis.
He stepped back inside the building, letting the door close, sealing the safe zone once more.
More people were trying to reach buildings now, desperately running for cover as they finally understood the danger. Some managed to escape into other structures, their screams of relief audible. Some died before they could reach safety, torn apart in the open streets.
Then Len Fang heard running footsteps approaching his building—heavy, masculine, panicked.
Another survivor was coming, running toward the entrance with everything he had, a kobold pack closing in behind him.
The man's eyes locked onto the glass door, seeing salvation, seeing hope.
Len Fang waited, knife in hand, positioned just inside.
The man reached the door, yanked it open with desperate strength—
And Len Fang killed him too.
The knife found the throat this time, opening the carotid artery in a spray of crimson. Quick. Efficient. Lethal.
The man's momentum carried him forward half a step before he collapsed, choking on his own blood, his hands reaching up to his ruined throat in futile desperation.
[ You have killed one of your own kind! ]
[ Blood Core acquired: Human (Common) ]
[ +1 Blood Core added to inventory ]
Len Fang's eyes were cold as ice, devoid of warmth or humanity, as he watched the man die.
He will not let anyone in here, at least not for the early stages of the apocalypse. Every person he allowed inside would reduce the safe zone space, would weaken the protection for himself and Marel.
In this new world, in this brutal reality, survival came first.
Always.
Compassion was a luxury he could no longer afford.
He had tried compassion in his previous life. He had tried saving people, helping strangers, being a good person.
And what had it gotten him? Nothing but pain. Nothing but watching people he cared about die anyway.
This time would be different.
This time, he would be smart. Ruthless. Whatever it took to survive and protect what little he had left.
Len Fang stepped back from the door, wiping his blade clean on the dead man's shirt, and returned to the stairwell.
Outside, the apocalypse continued its bloody work.
And Len Fang felt nothing at all.