The hallway smelled like dust, old paint, and someone's burnt cooking—normal smells that suddenly felt like they belonged to a different lifetime.
Liu Chen stepped out and shut his apartment door behind him without locking it.
Locking felt pointless now.
If something wanted in, a cheap lock wasn't going to stop it.
He held the fire axe in both hands, blade angled slightly forward. His grip wasn't perfect. He wasn't trained. But the weight was comforting—simple, real, and brutal in a world that had just turned into floating messages and screaming people.
The stairwell was to his left.
The elevator was to his right.
The elevator lights flickered as if it still believed in schedules.
A wet thump echoed from below.
Then a scraping sound—like claws on concrete.
Liu Chen froze.
He listened.
The scraping continued, steady, deliberate.
Something was coming up.
Slowly.
Testing the building.
His instincts said to run back inside.
His logic said the same thing.
But the system's description flashed in his mind like a warning label:
Rapidly adapts… with repeated exposure…
Adaptation meant contact.
Controlled contact.
If he hid until his food ran out, he'd die weak.
If he went outside like a hero, he'd die fast.
So he needed the third option.
A small fight.
A small risk.
A controlled test.
Liu Chen moved to the stairwell door and pressed his ear against it.
The scraping stopped.
Silence.
Then—
A low, hungry sound, barely audible, like something breathing through a throat that wasn't built for breathing anymore.
Liu Chen's throat tightened.
He slowly pushed the stairwell door open.
The concrete steps spiraled downward. The emergency light near the landing was on, casting everything in a sickly yellow. The air was colder here, and damp—like the building was sweating.
On the landing below, something shifted in the shadows.
Liu Chen saw movement first.
Then eyes.
Two points of red light, low to the ground.
A dog?
No—too small. Too thin.
It crawled forward, and the light revealed the truth.
It had once been a rat.
Now it was the size of a cat, its body stretched long and wrong. Its skin looked tight over sharp bones, fur patchy and matted with dried blood. Its mouth opened wider than it should have been able to, showing teeth like needles.
It stared at Liu Chen like he was food that had walked into its home.
The rat-creature hissed.
Liu Chen didn't move.
His mind clicked into a calm, brutal checklist.
Distance: six steps.
Terrain: narrow stairwell. No room to dodge wide.
Weapon: axe—heavy, one clean hit might do it, but if he missed, he'd be in trouble.
Goal: survive. Trigger adaptation if possible. Don't die.
The creature's body tensed.
Liu Chen shifted his weight slightly back, ready to retreat up the stairs if needed.
The rat lunged.
Fast.
Too fast for a normal animal.
Liu Chen swung the axe down like he was chopping wood.
The blade clipped the creature's shoulder instead of its head.
The impact knocked it sideways, but it didn't die.
It screamed—high and furious—and its claws scraped across Liu Chen's shin as it scrambled back.
Pain flared.
Sharp, stinging.
Blood ran warm inside his sock.
Liu Chen's eyes narrowed.
So that was how it felt.
Not crippling.
Not yet.
But enough to remind him that a single mistake could spiral.
The rat-creature shook itself, then lunged again—this time lower, aiming for his ankle.
Liu Chen didn't swing.
He stepped back and kicked.
His shoe connected with its ribcage.
He felt something crack.
The creature slammed into the stair railing and fell onto the landing, twitching.
It tried to get up.
Liu Chen didn't let it.
He brought the axe down hard.
The blade sank into its neck.
The creature spasmed—then went still.
For a moment, Liu Chen just stood there, breathing.
His hands were shaking slightly.
Not fear.
Adrenaline dumping.
He tightened his grip until his knuckles whitened, forcing the tremor to stop.
Then the system chimed.
[KILL CONFIRMED]
[SURVIVAL MILESTONE: FIRST BLOOD]
[LOTTERY POINTS +1]
A second message followed.
[ABSOLUTE ADAPTATION TRIGGERED]
[ANALYZING: CLAW WOUND / BIOLOGICAL CONTAMINATION RISK]
[ADAPTING…]
Liu Chen's eyes widened.
He looked down at his shin.
The scratches were still bleeding, thin lines of red. But the burning sensation eased quickly—too quickly. The raw sting dulled as if a hand had turned down the pain.
His skin around the wound tingled.
Not pleasant.
Not painful.
Like heat moving under the surface.
[ADAPTATION COMPLETE]
[MINOR TOXIN RESISTANCE ACQUIRED]
[MINOR BLEEDING CONTROL ACQUIRED]
Liu Chen stared.
"…So it's real."
The bleeding slowed.
Not stopped completely—just… controlled. The blood went from a steady smear to a lazy seep.
His heartbeat calmed.
His mind sharpened.
The system wasn't a hallucination.
His trait wasn't a fancy label.
It worked.
A cold satisfaction settled in his chest.
It wasn't joy.
It wasn't relief.
It was certainty.
The kind of certainty that could keep a man alive.
Liu Chen crouched and examined the rat-creature. Its body was already twitching less. A faint gray mist rose from it, dissolving into the air as if it was being erased.
Then something small glittered near its mouth.
A crystal shard the size of a fingernail.
Liu Chen hesitated before picking it up with two fingers.
It was warm.
Not hot—just… alive.
[LOW-GRADE ESSENCE SHARD DETECTED]
[CURRENCY / MATERIAL: COMPATIBLE]
The shard pulsed once, then went still.
Liu Chen pocketed it.
"Good," he murmured. "So there's loot."
Loot meant progression.
Progression meant power.
Power meant options.
He stood, listening again.
The stairwell was quiet now.
No more scraping.
No more breathing in the dark.
Only his own steps and the distant chaos outside the building.
But he wasn't done.
He needed information.
If the building was infested with mutated animals, staying here would become a slow death. If it wasn't, then it could be a temporary fortress.
And either way, he needed supplies.
Food.
Water.
Bandages.
Maybe weapons.
Liu Chen went down two more flights, slow and careful, checking each landing before stepping onto it.
He saw two corpses near the second floor stairwell door.
A man in a delivery uniform and a woman in pajama shorts.
Their faces were twisted in fear, eyes glassy.
A blue message hovered above each of them, faint now, like a dying screen.
[TRAIT AWAKENED — HARDENED SKIN (NORMAL)]
[STATUS: DECEASED]
[TRAIT AWAKENED — QUICK THINKING (NORMAL)]
[STATUS: DECEASED]
Liu Chen's jaw tightened.
Even good traits weren't protection.
Not alone.
Not at the start.
He didn't look away out of respect. Respect didn't help them.
He looked because he needed to remember the reality.
Traits weren't salvation.
They were just tools.
And tools didn't matter if you didn't live long enough to use them well.
He reached the lobby level.
The front doors were glass, and through them he could see the street.
It was worse than before.
Smoke smeared the sky. People ran in packs now—some armed with kitchen knives, pipes, even a baseball bat.
A figure on the sidewalk swung something and shouted. A blue prompt flashed above his head.
[TRAIT: PAIN IGNORANCE (NORMAL)]
He charged a monster like bravery would turn into armor.
The monster tore him in half.
Liu Chen flinched—but he didn't look away.
He watched the way the creature moved.
Four legs, but the front two were longer, almost like arms.
It used them to pull victims in.
It was a dog-like shape but larger, with patchy skin and bone protrusions.
The same type he'd seen earlier.
A pack animal.
That was important.
One meant danger.
A pack meant death.
Liu Chen stepped back from the glass and turned toward the building's main corridor.
The mail area was open.
So was the small maintenance closet near the lobby.
He tried the closet door.
Unlocked.
Inside were cleaning supplies, a mop, a bucket, and—thankfully—first aid basics in a wall-mounted kit.
Bandages.
Gauze.
Alcohol wipes.
A pair of thin gloves.
Liu Chen took them all without hesitation.
He sanitized his shin wound quickly, teeth clenched at the sting, then wrapped it tight.
The bleeding had already slowed, but a clean wrap mattered. Infection was still infection—even with minor toxin resistance.
Another sound echoed in the lobby.
A voice.
A human voice.
"Hello?" someone called shakily. "Is anyone here?"
Liu Chen froze.
He angled the axe toward the corridor.
The voice came again, closer.
"I'm not trying to hurt anyone! Please—if you're alive—"
A young man stepped into view.
Early twenties, maybe. Hoodie, jeans, messy hair. His face was pale, eyes wide, but he wasn't panicked enough to be useless.
In his hands was a metal pole—maybe torn off a shelf.
Above his head hovered faint blue text.
[TRAIT AWAKENED — SHARP HEARING (NORMAL)]
He saw Liu Chen and flinched—then visibly relaxed when he realized Liu Chen was human.
"Thank god," he breathed. "I thought—those things outside—"
His gaze dropped to the axe, and he swallowed. "You… you killed something?"
Liu Chen didn't answer immediately.
He assessed.
Weapon: pole. Better than nothing.
Trait: sharp hearing. Useful for scouting, but not combat.
Body language: scared, but not aggressive.
Risk: high. People under pressure make stupid choices.
He decided to keep the interaction short and controlled.
"Stay quiet," Liu Chen said.
The young man nodded rapidly. "Okay. Okay. Sorry."
He stepped closer, then stopped as if remembering personal space suddenly mattered.
"What's your name?" he asked.
"Liu Chen."
"I'm… I'm Gao Wen." His voice cracked slightly. "What do we do? We can't stay here, right? The doors are glass. If the monsters—"
Liu Chen's eyes shifted to the front entrance again.
A shadow moved outside.
Then another.
And another.
Three red-eyed shapes circled the sidewalk, sniffing, pacing.
The pack.
They were close enough that if they saw movement, they'd charge.
Gao Wen noticed too, and his breathing sped up. "Oh—oh no."
"Back," Liu Chen said.
They retreated into the corridor, out of sight from the glass.
The silence stretched.
Then—
A soft impact against the front door.
A sniff.
A wet sound on glass.
The monsters were testing.
Gao Wen's hands trembled around the pole. "We're trapped."
"Not yet," Liu Chen said.
He glanced at the building's side exit—an emergency door that led to the parking area. It might be a way out.
But he didn't want to go outside into a pack without knowing the environment.
This was where a teammate could matter.
He looked at Gao Wen. "Your hearing. How good is it now?"
Gao Wen blinked. "I… I don't know. Better. I can hear the… the scratching from the door like it's right next to me."
"Then listen," Liu Chen said. "How many outside?"
Gao Wen swallowed and closed his eyes.
Seconds passed.
He flinched once.
Then again.
"…Three," he whispered. "No—four. One's farther. And—there's something else… heavier, like… dragging."
Liu Chen's stomach tightened.
A heavier one.
A leader?
Or a different monster entirely.
Gao Wen opened his eyes, sweating. "There's also… people. Somewhere. Upstairs maybe. I hear a door slam."
So there were survivors.
And there were predators.
The building was becoming a cage.
Liu Chen weighed his options fast.
Staying meant a siege. No guarantee the doors would hold.
Leaving meant crossing open ground with monsters nearby.
The system prompt floated briefly in his mind:
Bonus draws for kills, survival milestones, and reputation.
Reputation wasn't safe yet. But kills and milestones?
He could farm them—carefully—if he didn't die.
But he needed equipment first.
And a safe path.
Liu Chen looked down the corridor toward the building's storage rooms.
If this was a residential building, there might be a gym, maybe a small supply room, maybe maintenance tools, maybe even a generator room.
Tools meant weapons.
Weapons meant survival.
He met Gao Wen's eyes. "You follow instructions?"
Gao Wen nodded so fast it looked like his neck would snap. "Yes. Yes, absolutely."
"Then stay behind me," Liu Chen said. "If I stop, you stop. If I look at you and point, you move where I point. Don't speak unless I ask."
Gao Wen swallowed hard, then nodded again. "Okay."
Liu Chen turned and began moving down the corridor, axe held ready.
They passed the mailboxes.
A faint wet trail led toward the maintenance area.
Blood.
Fresh.
Liu Chen slowed.
Gao Wen leaned in, then stopped himself, remembering the rules.
Liu Chen raised a hand—stop.
He listened.
A faint chewing sound.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Something was eating.
Liu Chen stepped forward silently and peeked around the corner.
A creature crouched over a body in the dim light.
Human body.
It was half-hidden behind the creature's twisted form. The monster's back rose and fell as it fed, shoulders hunching with each bite.
This one wasn't a rat.
It was humanoid.
Not fully.
Its limbs were too long, joints bent the wrong way, and its skin looked stretched over a frame that didn't match human proportions. Its head turned slightly, and Liu Chen saw a mouth that opened sideways, lined with jagged teeth.
A failed human mutation?
Or something else entirely?
Liu Chen retreated from the corner without making sound and signaled Gao Wen back.
They moved away.
Gao Wen's face was white. He mouthed: What?
Liu Chen whispered, barely audible. "One inside. Humanoid. Feeding. We don't fight that yet."
Gao Wen's eyes widened in relief and fear at the same time.
Liu Chen's mind was already calculating.
A pack outside.
A humanoid inside.
Survivors upstairs.
This wasn't random chaos.
It was a new ecosystem forming in real time.
And his Absolute Adaptation had just proven something crucial:
Even minor exposure made him stronger.
He didn't need to win every fight.
He needed to survive enough fights to become unkillable.
He looked at Gao Wen again, voice calm.
"We're going up," Liu Chen said.
Gao Wen blinked. "Up?"
"Survivors are upstairs," Liu Chen replied. "And rooms have supplies. We find food, water, and a better weapon. We don't go outside until we can."
Gao Wen hesitated, then nodded. "Okay. Okay—"
A loud crash sounded from the lobby.
Glass shattering.
Gao Wen flinched violently.
Liu Chen's jaw tightened.
So the doors weren't holding.
Not for long.
He grabbed Gao Wen's sleeve and pulled him toward the stairwell.
"Move," Liu Chen said.
They ran.
Behind them, the building filled with new sounds—scraping, snarling, the stamp of claws on tile.
The apocalypse was entering the building.
And Liu Chen had just crossed the point where hiding was possible.
He climbed the stairs two at a time, not fast enough to exhaust himself, but fast enough to stay ahead of the hunt.
His shin wound throbbed faintly under the bandage, and the system's earlier message hovered in his thoughts like a promise.
Adaptation speed increases with repeated exposure.
Good.
Let the world try to kill him.
He would learn from it.
He would take from it.
And when the system expected him to break—
He would adapt instead.
At the fourth-floor landing, Gao Wen suddenly grabbed his arm.
Liu Chen stopped instantly, axe raised.
Gao Wen's eyes were wide, pupils shaking. He whispered, "Something… is above us."
Liu Chen's gaze lifted up the stairwell.
The air felt heavier.
Then he heard it too.
Not scraping.
Not chewing.
Footsteps.
Slow.
Measured.
Human-like.
Descending.
Liu Chen tightened his grip.
Whatever was coming down the stairs wasn't running like prey.
It was walking like it already owned the building.
And that was worse than any monster outside.
To be continued…