Chapter 25: Demonstration
Dennis's face drained of color. His bravado evaporated in an instant, replaced by the primal terror of prey caught in a predator's gaze.
"We—we didn't!" His voice cracked, his head shaking like a rattle drum. "We just wanted food! We weren't trying to rob you!"
Fidex didn't respond to words. It didn't need to. The Summon strode forward, and the crowd parted like water before a stone—no, before an avalanche. Men and women who moments ago had been shouting for supplies scattered, pressing themselves against walls, against each other, anything to stay out of the monster's path. A woman screamed, high and short, then clamped her hand over her mouth. A man stumbled over a crate and went sprawling, scrambling backward on his elbows.
Unlike Nathan, they could see that Jin was not a man to test. His face was hard, his eyes flat. He had stood on the twentieth floor and watched a Spider Monster die. He had fused its flesh into his Summon. He was not someone who would hesitate.
Dennis tried to retreat, grabbing Yvonne's arm and pulling her backward. His heels skidded on the concrete. But Fidex was faster. One massive hand closed around Dennis's collar, another around Yvonne's. It lifted them off their feet like they weighed nothing, their legs kicking uselessly in the air. Yvonne's robe slipped, exposing a pale shoulder; she clutched at it with trembling fingers.
They trembled violently, faces twisted with fear. Yvonne's mouth moved, but no sound came out. Dennis could only stammer, "Everyone's watching! What—what are you going to do?!"
Jin didn't answer. He let them hang there for a long moment, let the silence stretch, let the crowd see. He wanted them to remember this. To remember that there were lines that could not be crossed.
Then Fidex dropped them.
The Summon wasn't brutal—it didn't slam them into the ground or throw them across the room. But it didn't set them down gently either. They hit the floor hard enough to knock the wind out of them, hard enough to leave bruises. Their cries of pain were abrupt, almost pathetic in the heavy silence. Dennis curled into a ball, wheezing. Yvonne lay flat, her chest heaving, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Jin stepped forward. His footsteps echoed in the hall.
"You want to steal my supplies?"
His voice was calm, almost conversational. That made it worse. A man shouting in anger was predictable. A man who spoke quietly while his monster loomed behind him was something else entirely.
"We—we didn't!" Dennis wheezed, scrambling backward on his hands and knees. "We just—"
"Yesterday," Jin said, cutting him off, "there was a chance to help. A chance to earn supplies." His gaze swept across the crowd, catching each face, holding it for a moment. "Nathan asked who wanted to become Contractors. Who wanted to fight. Who wanted to contribute."
He let the words sink in. Some of the survivors looked away. Others stared at the floor. One man—young, fit, the kind who could have been useful—took a step back as if trying to disappear into the wall.
"You didn't take it. None of you did." Jin's voice was still calm, still quiet. "You hid in the lobby while we cleared the floors. You waited. You hoped someone else would do the work, take the risks, and then you could just… ask nicely for a share."
He smiled. It didn't reach his eyes.
"Now you want to benefit without risk." He tilted his head, studying them like a lawyer examining a contract full of hidden clauses. "That's not how this works."
He turned to Fidex.
The Summon moved. It strode to a wall at the edge of the hall—a solid brick wall, the kind that had been standing for decades. Its arms darkened as muscles tensed, the limbs bulging like cannons ready to fire. The crowd held its breath. For a moment, everything was still.
Then it punched.
Thud.
The impact cracked like thunder. Bricks shattered. A hole the size of a car door exploded through the wall, debris spraying across the floor. Dust billowed outward, catching in throats, stinging eyes. A chunk of brick skittered across the floor and stopped at a woman's feet; she stared at it, unblinking.
When the dust cleared, everyone stared.
It was a brick wall—not load-bearing, but solid. A construction worker with a sledgehammer would have taken ten minutes to break through. Fidex had done it with one punch. The edges of the hole were jagged, fractured, chunks of brick still tumbling to the floor. Through the gap, they could see the dark corridor beyond, the emergency light flickering.
They imagined that fist hitting a person. Not a monster. Not a Zombie. A person. Would it pulp them? Split them in half? Leave anything recognizable? Several people turned pale. One man vomited quietly into his cupped hands.
Jin's voice cut through their thoughts. "I don't think any of your skulls are harder than that wall."
No one answered. The silence was absolute.
Jin waited, letting the weight of what they had just seen settle into their bones. He could see it in their eyes—the fear, the calculation, the sudden understanding that the old rules were gone. Then he turned to Nathan, his voice returning to normal.
"Distribute the supplies. Have my share brought to my room."
Nathan blinked, then recovered. "Frank. Start distributing. The rest of you—go back." He raised his voice, addressing the crowd. "Over the next few days, I'll assess the fog situation and organize an expedition outside. Anyone who wants more supplies can sign up then."
The crowd dispersed quickly. No one argued. No one demanded. They moved like shadows, not daring to lift their heads, not daring to meet anyone's eyes. Within minutes, only the Contractors remained.
Frank exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "That could have gone worse."
"It could have gone better," Nathan said grimly. He looked at Jin. "I didn't want—"
"You did fine." Jin cut him off, not unkindly. "But you need to understand. They're not asking. They're taking. Or trying to. The only language they understand now is strength."
Nathan's jaw tightened, but he didn't argue. He knew Jin was right.
---
With no one left to cause trouble, the distribution went smoothly. Jin and Lisa had contributed the most—clearing the floors above the tenth, defeating the Spider Monster. They received the largest share.
Over three hundred pounds of rice and flour. Dried meat, canned goods, snacks. A box of medical supplies—bandages, antiseptic, painkillers. Nearly a third of the total supplies.
The rest went to Nathan's security team, Mark, Simon, and the other Contractors according to their contributions. Mark got enough to keep him and Lisa fed for a week. Simon got a share that he took without comment, his face unreadable. The new Contractors—Nina, George, Yates, Sheila—each received enough to survive.
By afternoon, the noisy division was over.
The settlement fell into a heavy, oppressive silence. Doors closed. Voices hushed. The survivors who had tried to take what wasn't theirs retreated to their rooms, nursing their fear, their resentment, their shame.
Some wondered how they would survive the coming days. Others worried that Nathan's group would become a new kind of tyrant—stronger than the old world's bosses, and far less restrained. A few, like Dennis, nursed their bruises and their grudges, already planning how to even the score.
And some kicked themselves for not becoming Contractors when they had the chance. Jin saw them lingering at the edges, watching the Contractors with hungry eyes. They would sign up for the next expedition, he knew. But that was a problem for another day.
He heard the whispers as he walked back to his room. He ignored them. Let them whisper. Let them scheme. Fear kept people in line better than kindness ever could.
But as he closed his door behind him, he thought of Dennis's face—the fear, the hatred, the calculation underneath. That man wouldn't forget today. Neither would his woman.
And there were others. Josh. His faction. People who wanted what Jin had, who would do anything to get it. He had seen Josh in the crowd today, standing at the back, watching. Not participating. Just watching. Learning.
He's waiting, Jin realized. Waiting for the right moment.
He looked at Fidex, standing guard by the window. The Summon's four arms hung at its sides, its chest rising and falling with slow, steady breaths. Rapid Healing and Web-Woven Instinct hummed beneath its skin, waiting.
Let them come, Jin thought. Let them try.