The cacophony of the Food Court had been reduced to the crackling of grease fires and the dripping of liquids.
The burning KFC counter cast long, dancing shadows across the linoleum floor, illuminating the carnage like a scene from a twisted renaissance painting. Ten elite guards lay broken in various states of anatomical disarray, their armor crushed by brute force. In the center of it all, Kael stood over the corpse of King Magnus.
The rush of battle—the [Adrenaline Burst] that had turned his blood into rocket fuel—was fading. In its wake, it left a hollow, aching void. It was a biological crash, a withdrawal symptom from his own power. His muscles trembled, the fibers tearing and knitting together in a microscopic cycle of agony.
But louder than the pain was the Hunger.
It wasn't a stomach hunger. It was cellular starvation. His System was screaming at him. He had expended a massive amount of energy to fuel his rampage, burning through his caloric reserves in seconds. His body was a furnace that had run out of coal, and now it was starting to burn the furniture.
Kael looked down at Magnus. The "King" looked small now. Just a sack of meat in a ruined tuxedo. But to Kael's enhanced senses, the corpse was glowing. It wasn't the dull red glow of a physical fighter; it was a vibrant, volatile orange light. The residual Mana of a Level 5 Pyromancer.
Do it, the darker part of his brain whispered. Eat the King.
Kael fell to his knees beside the body. He hesitated. He looked at his hands—hands that looked less human by the hour. The skin was grey and callous, the fingernails thick and dark. If he did this, if he consumed a High-Mana human, would there be any coming back?
There is no coming back, Kael realized with a cold clarity. The old world is dead. Kael the student died when the rain started. There is only Kael the Predator.
He placed both hands on Magnus's chest.
System. Harvest.
The reaction was instantaneous and violent.
It wasn't like absorbing the security guards at the entrance. That had been like drinking lukewarm water—heavy, metallic, but manageable. This... this was like drinking liquid magma.
Magnus's blood didn't just flow; it surged. Kael felt the energy invading his arms, burning through his veins. It wasn't just biological matter; he was stripping the man's magical essence. He felt foreign pathways trying to form in his body—Mana Channels attempting to carve themselves into his flesh to accommodate the fire magic he was ingesting.
Kael threw his head back in a silent scream, his jaw locking.
[Target Identified: Human (High Mana Concentration - Pyromancer Class).]
[Warning: Incompatible Energy Source Detected.]
[User Biology does not support Standard Mana Channels.]
[Critical Error: Magical energy is rejecting host tissue. Internal burning detected.]
Smoke began to rise from Kael's skin. He could feel his insides cooking. The Pyromancer's essence was fighting back, trying to burn the parasite that dared to consume it.
Adapt, Kael thought furiously, forcing his will upon the System. Don't store it as magic. Break it down. Convert it.
[Solution Found: Metabolic Conversion initiated.]
[Breaking down Mana particles into raw Bio-Electric Energy.]
[Warning: Efficiency loss 40%. Pain levels will be extreme.]
The burning sensation shifted. It turned into a vibrating shock. Kael felt like he had stuck a fork into a power outlet. His heart hammered against his ribs—thump-thump-thump—at a speed that would have induced cardiac arrest in a normal human.
But it worked. The volatile magic was crushed by Kael's dominant biology, stripped of its elemental properties, and turned into fuel.
[Biomass Acquired: 50 units.]
[Trait Acquired: {Minor Heat Resistance}.]
[Description: Your skin cells have mutated to withstand higher temperatures, a scar left by the Pyromancer's essence.]
Kael gasped, collapsing forward onto his hands. He was alive. He was stronger.
But then, the second wave hit. The psychological wave.
Absorbing a human wasn't just physical. Biomass carried memory. DNA carried the echo of the soul.
Flash.
Kael wasn't in the Food Court anymore. He was in an office. A corner office with a view of the city. He looked down at his hands, but they weren't his grey, scarred hands. They were manicured, soft hands. Magnus's hands.
"I hate them," a voice echoed in Kael's mind. It was Magnus's voice, but it sounded like Kael's own thought. "These sheep. They work for me, but they don't respect me. I want... I want to burn them all."
The scene shifted. The apocalypse. The rain. Magnus realizing he could shoot fire from his fingertips. The euphoria. The absolute, intoxicating power of killing his boss with a snap of his fingers.
"I am a god," the voice screamed in Kael's head. "I am the King! Kneel! Burn! Why won't you scream louder?!"
Kael clutched his head, digging his fingers into his scalp until he drew blood. The alien memories were trying to overwrite his own. He felt Magnus's sadism, his petty grievances, his lust for control. It was a slimy, oily pollution seeping into Kael's consciousness.
"Get out!" Kael roared, striking his own forehead against the tiled floor. Crack. "GET OUT OF MY HEAD!"
He wasn't Magnus. He wasn't a tyrant. He was Kael. He survived the apartment. He killed the Juggernaut. He fought for survival, not pleasure.
System! Quarantine these data packets! Delete them!
[Mental instability detected.]
[Activating Psyche Defense Protocol.]
[Fragmenting foreign memories... Storing in Subconscious dump... Locked.]
The voices didn't vanish, but they were muffled, as if someone had closed a heavy soundproof door on a screaming room. The hallucinations faded. Kael was back in the Food Court, panting, sweat dripping from his nose onto the charred tiles.
He wiped his mouth. He felt sick. Not physically, but spiritually. He had consumed a monster, and for a second, he had tasted the monster's joy.
"Never again," Kael whispered, his voice trembling. "I have to be careful. Too much human essence... and I'll lose myself."
He forced himself to stand. His legs felt like lead, but the energy from the harvest was already repairing the micro-tears in his muscles.
He looked up.
In the corner of the Food Court, behind the overturned tables that had served as a pen, the survivors—Magnus's slaves—were watching him.
There were about twenty of them. Men and women, mostly young. They were emaciated, dirty, huddled together like sheep in a storm. They had watched the entire fight. They had seen Kael dismantle the elite guards. They had seen him snap Magnus's neck. And they had seen him kneel over the corpse and... feed.
Kael took a step toward them. He intended to say something reassuring. You're safe now. The bad man is dead.
But as he moved, the group flinched as one organism. A woman in the front whimpered and covered her eyes. A man pulled a teenage girl behind him, shielding her with his trembling body.
Kael froze.
He looked at his reflection in the shattered mirrored column of the KFC.
He didn't look like a liberator.
He was covered in layers of blood—black Vector ichor, red human blood, and the charred soot of the explosion. His clothes were rags. His skin was the color of a corpse. And his eyes... his eyes were glowing with a lingering, predatory violet luminescence that pierced the gloom.
To them, the hero hadn't arrived. A bigger, scarier monster had simply arrived to claim the territory.
A bitter taste filled Kael's mouth. He wanted to explain. He wanted to tell them he was still human. But he looked at the dead guards around him, the people he had slaughtered without hesitation. Was he?
"You're free," Kael said. His voice came out as a gravelly rasp, damaged by the smoke and the screaming.
The survivors didn't move. They stared at him with wide, terrified eyes, waiting for the trick. Waiting for him to demand a steeper tax than Magnus.
"Go!" Kael barked, pointing at the stairs with his hammer. "Get out of here before the smell of blood brings the rest of the horde! Run!"
The shout broke their paralysis. They scrambled. They didn't say thank you. They didn't look back. They ran past him, giving him a wide berth, pressing themselves against the walls to avoid touching even his shadow. They stampeded down the escalator, weeping in terror.
Kael stood alone in the silence. The "King" was dead. The damsels were saved. And Kael felt colder than he ever had in his life.
"Messy work."
The voice cut through the silence like a knife.
Kael spun around, bringing his hammer up in a defensive guard.
Elena was standing on the railing of the mezzanine above the Food Court. She was perched there like a bird of prey, her arms crossed, her silver ponytail swaying slightly in the draft. Her sword was sheathed, but her posture was alert.
"How long have you been there?" Kael asked, not lowering his weapon.
"Long enough," Elena said. She hopped down, landing lightly on the floor. She walked toward him, her boots making no sound on the tiles. "I saw you tank the fireballs. I saw you break the phalanx. And I saw you... do whatever that was to the body."
She stopped a few meters away, looking at Magnus's husk.
"You ate him," she stated. It wasn't a question. "Or his energy. Whatever."
Kael tensed. This was it. The moment she decided he was a monster and tried to put him down. He calculated the distance. She was fast, but in this enclosed space, he could probably grapple her if he took a hit.
"He was a Pyromancer," Kael said defensively. "I needed the energy to heal."
"You're not a Brawler, Kael," Elena said, her blue eyes locking onto his violet ones. "Brawlers punch things. They don't cannibalize mana. What are you? A hidden class? A Necromancer variant?"
"Does it matter?" Kael challenged. "Are you going to try to kill me, Elena?"
Elena looked at him. She looked at the dead guards. She looked at the exit where the slaves had fled.
"Magnus," she said, pointing at the corpse with her chin. "He killed three of my friends at the entrance. He laughed while he burned them. I came here to kill him, but you beat me to it."
She shrugged, a pragmatic gesture that seemed at odds with the carnage around them.
"I don't care what you are," she said softly. "In this new world, morality is a luxury we can't afford. Results matter. You killed the tyrant. You didn't hurt the slaves. You freed them, even if you scared the shit out of them."
She walked past him, bending down to pick up a small leather pouch from Magnus's belt. She tossed it in her hand, listening to the clink of coins or gems inside.
"That makes you 'good enough' in my book, Kael. For now."
Kael felt the tension in his shoulders drop. It wasn't acceptance—she clearly thought he was a freak—but it was a truce. And right now, he needed an ally more than he needed to be understood.
"I'm clearing the rest of the floor," Kael said, turning away to hide the relief on his face. He walked toward the Sports Store adjacent to the Food Court. "There are supplies. We need to loot before the fire spreads."
"We split it," Elena said, following him. "50/50."
Kael paused. "I killed the Boss. I killed the Elite Guards. You just watched from the balcony."
"I watched your back," Elena lied smoothly. "And I'm not reporting you to the Global Chat as a player-eating monster. That silence is worth a 10% cut, don't you think?"
Kael snorted. "You can't post on Global Chat. The internet is down."
"Actually, Level 5 unlocks local telepathy messaging," Elena smirked. "I'm Level 4. I'm close. Do you want to take that risk?"
"Fine," Kael grumbled, pushing open the doors to the sports store. "50/50. But I get first pick on protein powder."
"Deal. I want the skill books."
They entered the store. It was a treasure trove. While the rest of the mall had been looted of food and electronics, the high-end sports nutrition and camping gear was largely touched.
Kael went straight for the supplements. He didn't need food for taste; he needed density. He grabbed huge tubs of whey protein, mass gainers, and energy bars. He ripped the lid off a canister of creatine and dry-scooped a handful, letting his system absorb the raw amino acids instantly.
[Biomass recovery: +0.5 units.]
It was inefficient compared to blood, but it quieted the gnawing hunger.
Elena, meanwhile, was rummaging through a safe in the manager's office that Magnus had apparently been using as a stash.
"Jackpot," she called out.
Kael walked over. On the desk, she had laid out three books. They weren't paper books; they were leather-bound, glowing with a soft internal light. Skill Books. The System spawned them as loot from high-level kills or chests.
"[Basic Fire Resistance]," Elena read the first one. She tossed it to Kael. "You took a lot of heat damage. You need this."
Kael caught the book.
[Skill Book Detected: Passive - Fire Resistance.]
[Do you wish to absorb?]
Yes. The book dissolved into motes of red light that sank into Kael's hands.
[Skill Acquired. Stacking with Innate Trait... Fire Resistance is now Level 2.]
"Thanks," Kael said, genuinely surprised. She could have kept it.
"This one is [Mana Meditation]," Elena said, pressing the second book to her chest. "I need this. My mana regeneration sucks."
"And the third?"
Elena held up a grey, unassuming book. "[Heavy Weapon Mastery]."
She looked at Kael's sledgehammer. Then she looked at her agile sword.
"Useless to me," she said, sliding it across the desk. "All yours, big guy."
Kael absorbed it. A rush of knowledge—stances, leverage points, momentum control—flooded his brain. It wasn't just swinging a hammer anymore; it was an art form.
They spent the next hour packing. They found tactical backpacks. Elena upgraded her leather jacket to a high-end reinforced motorcycle suit. Kael found nothing that fit his expanded frame, so he settled for strapping elbow and knee pads over his tattered clothes.
They were in the loading bay on the ground floor, preparing to leave through the back exit to avoid the horde at the front, when it happened.
The ground shook.
THOOM.
Dust fell from the ceiling vents. The water in a forgotten bottle on a table rippled.
"Earthquake?" Elena asked, her hand instantly flying to her sword hilt.
"No," Kael said. He went still. His [Neural Synapse] was screaming danger signals so loud they manifested as a migraine. He could hear it. The sound of heavy, rhythmic impacts on the asphalt outside. "Footsteps."
The heavy corrugated metal shutters of the loading bay began to groan. The metal buckled inward. Something was pushing from the outside. Something massive. Something that didn't care about steel doors.
SCREEEECH.
The metal tore like aluminum foil. A massive, hairy hand, tipped with black claws the size of butcher knives, ripped the door from its hinges and tossed it aside.
A creature stepped into the bay.
It wasn't a human Vector. It wasn't a mutated dog.
It stood four meters tall on its knuckles. It was a mountain of muscle and bone plates. Its fur had fallen out in patches, replaced by black, chitinous armor that gleamed under the emergency lights. It had the shape of a silverback gorilla, but twisted by the Mana into a siege engine of destruction.
And it had four eyes. All of them glowing a deep, blood red.
[WARNING: Alpha Species Detected.]
[Mutant: Ironhide Kong.]
[Level: 15]
[Threat Level: EXTREME.]
"Level 15..." Elena whispered, her face draining of all color. She took a step back. "I'm Level 4. Magnus was Level 5. This thing is... it's a Raid Boss."
"I don't have a level," Kael said, gripping his sledgehammer until the handle creaked. "But I have a lot of biomass."
The Kong roared. It wasn't just a sound; it was a physical shockwave. It shattered the remaining windows in the bay and set off car alarms three blocks away.
"We can't fight that!" Elena shouted over the ringing in her ears. "We need to run! We can lose it in the alleys!"
"It's faster than us," Kael noted, seeing the striated muscles in the beast's legs twitching with explosive potential. "Look at its legs. It's built for chasing. If we run, it hunts us down one by one from behind. We die tired."
"Are you insane? Look at it!"
"Elena," Kael looked at her. His eyes were calm, terrifyingly so. "Can you cut its eyes?"
"If I get close enough... maybe. But look at that reach! It will squash me before I get within range!"
"I'll be the bait," Kael said. He stepped forward, placing himself between the girl and the monster. "I'll take the hit. I'll hold its aggro. You cut."
Elena looked at him like he was crazy. But she looked at the monster, then at the exits. She did the math. He was right. Running was death.
"Don't die on me, Cannibal," she hissed, drawing her glowing sword.
"Don't miss, Sword Girl."
Kael slammed his sledgehammer against a metal support pillar. CLANG! The sound rang out, pure and challenging.
"Hey! Ugly!" Kael shouted, flaring his own predatory aura to the max. "Dinner is served!"
The Kong turned its four red eyes toward Kael. It snarled, exposing teeth that could crush concrete. It charged.
The ground shook with every step. Kael didn't dodge. He stood his ground, activating every defensive mutation he had. [Hardened Epidermis]. [Reinforced Bone Density]. [Reinforce Muscle Tissue].
He was going to catch a freight train with his bare hands.