The chaos continued to unfold with relentless brutality as the hours crawled by. The screams never stopped, only changed in pitch and intensity as different people met different ends.
Len Fang remained stationed near the ground floor entrance, his knife held loosely in his hand, his eyes scanning the street through the glass door with mechanical precision.
Anytime a person intended to run to enter inside their apartment building, desperately seeking the safety they instinctively knew was there, Len Fang killed them.
Each time was the same—they would reach for the door with hope in their eyes, and he would extinguish that hope with cold steel.
A young man in a business suit. Stab to the kidney, twisted.
An older woman clutching a purse. Throat opened in one smooth motion.
A teenager, barely eighteen. Heart pierced before he could even scream.
A construction worker still wearing his hard hat. Chest cavity opened, lungs punctured.
Two more after that, their faces blurring together in Len Fang's memory, indistinguishable from each other in death.
He had gained six more blood cores now, bringing his total to eight.
[ Blood Core acquired: Human (Common) ]
[ Blood Core acquired: Human (Common) ]
[ Blood Core acquired: Human (Common) ]
The notifications appeared with each kill, cold and factual, treating human lives like items to be collected.
One would wonder why he isn't killing monsters like the goblins and kobolds that prowled the streets instead of his own kind. Surely that would be more moral, more justified?
But the answer was simple: monsters don't give any experience points currently, not until after the first event when the system fully activates its reward functions.
Killing them right now will just be a waste of time and energy. And they too are still strong, faster and more vicious than humans expect, with natural weapons and pack tactics.
He had no doubt he could kill some of them if he really tried—his experience from his previous life gave him that confidence.
But it will be no different from killing another animal. A pointless expenditure of effort with no benefit.
Nothing gained. Just another dead body to add to the piles.
So he focused on what would benefit him: securing his safe zone and collecting blood cores for future use.
The monster wave outside was relentless, showing no signs of slowing. Goblins continued to pour from the rifts, kobolds organized into hunting parties, and the streets ran red with blood.
Then Len Fang noticed something—some buildings in the distance, it seemed, had reached their safe zone limit.
Too many people had crowded inside, seeking shelter together, exceeding the capacity that the mysterious protection could handle.
And now monsters were rushing inside those buildings, slaughtering everyone within. The screams that came from those structures were even worse than those from the street—the sound of people who thought they were safe realizing they were trapped with their killers.
No one knows of the safe zone feature properly yet, at least not consciously. The system hasn't told anyone about it yet—that information would come tomorrow.
Some people would have already figured out that buildings were safe and that monsters actively ignored them when they were inside. The pattern was obvious enough if you survived long enough to notice it.
But they don't know of the people limit function. They don't understand that cramming too many bodies into one space would collapse the protection entirely.
And so they would die, killed by their own desperate hope for safety.
Len Fang sighed when he saw no other person coming close to his building anymore. The street had mostly cleared of living humans now—only corpses and monsters remained, the latter feeding on the former with disturbing enthusiasm.
He turned away from the door and went to sit down on the landing stairs, his back against the wall, finally allowing himself a moment of rest.
His hands were covered in blood, both dried and fresh. His clothes were spattered with it. But he felt nothing.
He called his inventory with a thought, and the familiar interface appeared before him.
"Blood Core," he commanded quietly.
One of the eight cores materialized in his hand—a small crystalline object, roughly the size of a marble, that pulsed with a dark red light. It was warm to the touch, almost uncomfortably so, and seemed to throb in rhythm with his heartbeat.
Len Fang focused on it, and information appeared in his mind, knowledge granted by the system.
[ Blood Core (Human - Common) ]
[ A core formed from the life essence of a human killed by another human during the apocalypse. ]
[ Effect: This item exists because the holder is the first person to have killed their own race since the apocalypse descended. ]
[ Buffs: Consuming this core will increase a person's talent in cultivation by 0.5%. Increases chances of obtaining a good ability during ability awakening by 2%. Can be used in certain crafting recipes. ]
[ Debuffs: The souls of those who had been killed will haunt the consumer relentlessly. Nightmares will plague their sleep. Whispers will fill their waking hours. Prolonged exposure or consumption of multiple cores may result in psychological deterioration. One day, the consumer might even run mad from the accumulated spiritual weight. ]
[ Warning: This path leads to power, but the price may be your sanity. ]
Len Fang read the description carefully, his expression thoughtful. The buffs were tempting—cultivation talent was incredibly rare and valuable. Even a small increase could mean the difference between mediocrity and greatness.
But the debuffs were severe. Haunting. Madness. These were not things to take lightly.
He sighed and put the blood core back into his inventory, keeping it stored safely but unused.
He has no need for it at least until he can get enough power or find an artifact or item that can dispel its debuffs, or at least mitigate them enough to make consumption worthwhile.
Perhaps in the future, when he was stronger, when he had more options, he could use these cores. But not now. Not when his mind needed to be sharp and clear.
Then Len Fang stood up, his legs protesting slightly from the prolonged tension, and made his way back up the stairs toward his apartment.
The building was eerily quiet now, the other residents either dead, hiding, or too traumatized to make any sound.
He reached his apartment door and knocked—three short raps, a pause, then two more. Their agreed-upon signal.
"Who is it?" Marel's voice came through the door, trembling but trying to sound strong.
"Your brother who told you to lock the door," Len Fang replied.
"What was the last thing we talked about before you left?"
"That I have a goal and that tomorrow will be busy," Len Fang answered patiently, understanding his brother's caution.
"What did I say I would do?"
"You said we'll survive together."
There was a pause, then the sound of locks being undone. The door opened to reveal Marel's pale, worried face.
He looked at Len Fang and immediately noticed the blood.
"Len, you're covered in—"
"I know," Len Fang cut him off, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. "Lock it again."
Marel did so with shaking hands, his eyes never leaving the blood staining his brother's clothes.
"Did you... did you fight monsters?" Marel asked quietly.
"Something like that," Len Fang replied, not elaborating. He moved toward the bathroom. "I need to clean up."
When he emerged fifteen minutes later, wearing clean clothes with his bloodied ones soaking in the tub, he found Marel sitting on the couch, staring at nothing.
"Marel," Len Fang said gently. "You should eat something and then go to sleep."
"Sleep? How can I sleep after... after all of that?" Marel gestured vaguely toward the window, where the sounds of the apocalypse could still be heard, though more distant now.
"Because tomorrow will be a very busy day," Len Fang said firmly. "You'll need your energy."
Marel looked at him with confusion and growing dread. "How? How can it get busier than this? The world just ended!"
Len Fang's expression was grim as he sat down across from his brother.
"It's because that is when the first event will begin," he explained. "And the reward function will be fully enabled to everyone in the world. The system will officially activate, and everything changes again."
"The first event?" Marel's voice was barely a whisper. "What kind of event?"
"You'll see tomorrow," Len Fang said, standing up and moving toward the small supply of food they had. "But for now, eat. Rest. We need to be ready."
Marel wanted to ask more questions, wanted to understand, but the exhaustion of terror and stress was catching up to him.
He nodded slowly and accepted the food Len Fang offered.
Outside, the apocalypse continued its work, the monster wave slowly tapering off as the night deepened.
Tomorrow would bring new horrors.
Tomorrow would bring new opportunities.
And Len Fang would be ready to seize them all.