Time seemed to freeze.
It took less than a second from the moment my calf muscles exploded to my body launching into the air.
But inside my head, now hijacked by prehistoric reptilian instincts, that single second felt like an agonizing slow-motion broadcast.
I could see every single raindrop bouncing off the young rookie's uniform collar.
I could hear the blood flowing in his neck singing, calling out to my brutally ravenous hunger.
My jaw unhinged on its own. Far wider than normal human anatomy should ever allow.
My teeth itched. The tip of my tongue tasted the air, seeking the body heat of the poor kid who was about to die with a ripped-out throat.
No! I'm not a fucking monster! I am Elias Richter!
My mind screamed, rebelling against my own nervous system.
It was a tug-of-war between the remnants of my humanity and pure predatory instinct. And the instinct was winning by a landslide.
The distance to the cop's neck was barely two spans away.
If I couldn't stop these jaws, I had to find another prey. Something else to bite. Something that could give me back my sanity.
Pain. My detective brain, trained to handle crises, reacted in the last hundredth of a second.
With the last shreds of willpower I possessed, I forcefully raised my own left arm and shoved it right into my gaping mouth.
CRACK!
I bit down on my own forearm with full force.
My canine teeth, which bizarrely felt longer and sharper than before, pierced right through the thick fabric of my trench coat. Through my shirt. Through skin and flesh, until they scraped directly against my radius bone.
An excruciating pain exploded inside my skull.
It felt like a grenade had detonated right behind my eyes. I let out a muffled groan around my own bite.
Neon-blue text immediately flashed wildly over my thermal vision.
[Warning: Host tissue damage detected.]
[Massive Adrenaline and Cortisol spike. Overriding Predator Instinct.]
[Humanity Indicator increased by +15%. Current status: 75%.]
Along with the appearance of that text, the red mist clouding my brain shattered.
The momentum of my leap carried through. My body slammed hard into the young cop. We both tumbled and rolled across the wet, rough asphalt of the alley.
"Ghhhaaa!"
The rookie screamed in panic. He thrashed wildly beneath my pinning weight. His flashlight flew off somewhere into the dark.
"Get the hell away from him! Put your hands up!"
A deep, gruff voice boomed from ahead.
It was the rookie's partner. The senior officer.
From the corner of my eye—still shaped like a vertical slit—I saw him take a shooting stance. The muzzle of his Glock 19 was locked dead on my head. His finger was already tense on the trigger.
I hastily released the bite on my left arm. Fresh blood dripped from my lips. My own blood. The bitter, coppery taste snapped me back to full consciousness.
I rolled to the side, releasing the terrified rookie.
I threw my trembling hands into the air.
"Hold... hold your fire, Becker!" I gasped, entirely out of breath.
My voice sounded hoarse. Wet. It vibrated like a snake's hiss, entirely different from my usual cold baritone. I cleared my throat hard, forcing my vocal cords back to normal.
"It's me... Detective Chief Inspector Richter," I said again, clearer this time.
The senior officer—Dieter Becker, I knew him from the Narcotics Division—froze.
The muzzle of his gun lowered slightly, though not entirely. He squinted, trying to pierce through the heavy curtain of rain separating us.
"Richter? Elias Richter?" Becker's voice dripped with disbelief. "For God's sake, what happened to you? You look like you just got chewed up by a meat grinder."
Of course I did.
My trench coat was in tatters, stained a dark, blackish-red with blood. My face was as pale as a corpse. And my eyes... I didn't know what my eyes looked like right now, but the horrified stare from the rookie crawling away from me told the whole story.
I tried to stand. My knees buckled again.
The hunger hadn't vanished. My stomach howled brutally.
[Critical Warning: Caloric reserves below 10%. Threat of cellular starvation. Consume nutrients immediately or the system will digest host muscle tissue to survive.]
Digest my own muscles? This bastard thing really is a parasite.
My sense of smell, still operating far beyond normal human limits, caught a scent.
A sweet scent. Intensely sweet. Artificial sugar, caramel, and highly concentrated coffee.
The smell didn't originate from this alley. It drifted from the direction of their patrol car parked at the end of the street, flashing with strobe lights.
"Becker," I said, clutching my violently twisting stomach. "Who's driving tonight?"
"I-I am, Sir," the rookie answered, his voice still shaking. "Why?"
I didn't answer. Using the remaining speed in my leg muscles, I half-walked, half-jogged right past the two of them.
Becker was startled by my movement, which was way too smooth for a guy soaked in blood. "Hey, Richter! You need an ambulance! We got a report of a man in a black raincoat—"
"Forget the ambulance!" I snapped without breaking stride. "Secure this alley. Don't let anyone touch that pool of blood over there."
I reached their patrol car. Without hesitating, I yanked open the driver's side door.
My nose didn't lie. On the passenger seat sat a brown paper bag bearing the logo of a local 24-hour bakery. Next to it were two large bottles of neon-blue energy drink.
Leftover patrol cop dinner? My pride really died tonight.
Throwing all manners out the window, I ripped the paper bag open. Three thick, caramel and chocolate-glazed donuts were inside.
I grabbed all three at once and shoved them into my mouth. I didn't chew. I swallowed them whole like a python swallowing a rat.
The cheap, sugary taste exploded on my tongue. It was the most delicious thing I had ever tasted in my entire life.
I grabbed the energy drink bottle, popped the cap off with my teeth, and chugged the entire contents in three seconds flat. The freezing liquid, packed with caffeine and taurine, flooded my empty stomach.
The text in my eyes reacted instantly.
[Simple nutrients detected: 1,850 Calories.]
[Processing glucose... Threat level of cellular starvation: Decreased.]
[Warning: Artificial sugars burn rapidly. The system requires raw animal protein to stabilize mutations.]
Raw protein? What does this thing want me to eat? A live cow?
I leaned back against the steering wheel, taking a deep breath. The agonizing pain in my stomach began to fade, replaced by a rush of artificial energy that made my heart hammer furiously.
I glanced at the patrol car's rearview mirror.
My face was a mess. But what made me hold my breath was my own eyes.
My pupils were still thin vertical slits, exactly like a reptile's. My dark brown irises had morphed into a terrifying, pale gold color. No wonder the rookie almost pissed his pants.
I squeezed my eyes shut tight. I took a long breath and focused my mind.
Pull back. Pull back that instinct. I pictured my sister's face. I pictured her smile before she was found brutally murdered with the letter 'R' burned into her neck. I used my human rage to suppress the animal instinct.
When I opened my eyes in the mirror again, they had returned to normal. Dark brown. Round. The eyes of a painfully exhausted human who harbored far too much vengeance.
"Richter!" Becker appeared at the open car door, looking both confused and highly suspicious. "What the hell are you doing with my partner's dinner?"
Before I could make up some bullshit excuse, the police radio on the dashboard blared to life.
"All available units in the Kreuzberg area. Code 10-13. Officer requesting immediate backup. Shots fired at the Hermannplatz U-Bahn Station entrance. Suspect is a tall Caucasian male, wearing a long black raincoat. Suspect is armed with a bladed weapon."
My eyes immediately narrowed.
Der Rabe. That bastard didn't run to hide. He was actually looking for a new victim in a public facility.
"That's our fugitive, Becker," I stated coldly.
I didn't waste a second. I hit the release button on the dashboard, unlocking the automated weapon rack wedged between the front seats.
With a swift motion, I yanked out the police-issue Remington 870 shotgun. I checked the chamber. Full. Four 12-gauge buckshot rounds.
"Hey! You can't just take that!" Becker protested loudly, his hand dropping back to the pistol on his hip. "You're severely injured, Richter! Wait for the ambulance and let the tactical team handle this!"
"I don't have time to argue with you," I replied flatly.
I stared dead into Becker's eyes. Maybe there was a lingering trace of predatory aura in my gaze, because Becker instantly swallowed hard and froze in his tracks.
"Secure this damn alley, Dieter. That's an order. If you follow me down to that station, you're only going to die."
Without waiting for his response, I turned and sprinted through the rain.
My footsteps felt way lighter than they should have. Way faster. This damned Apex System might have stolen my sanity, but it also granted me a physique that broke the limits.
Hermannplatz U-Bahn Station was just one block away from the alley.
I charged down the wet concrete stairs at full speed. The Remington was hugged tight against my chest. The sound of the rain on the surface was gradually replaced by the buzzing of a broken neon sign inside the station.
The underground air felt cold, stuffy, and reeked of piss.
But my highly sensitive nose caught something else. The scent of burnt gunpowder. And the smell of fresh blood. In massive quantities.
I reached the bottom of the stairs and took cover behind a concrete pillar.
The lights on the lower platform flickered unstably. It was dead silent. No sound of trains. No sound of panicking civilians. Way too quiet.
I closed my eyes and summoned the instinct back, but this time consciously.
Give me that sight.
My pupils felt cold, constricting back into vertical slits. The world around me shifted back into the thermal spectrum.
As I peeked from behind the pillar toward the dark platform below, my breath hitched.
Der Rabe wasn't there.
Instead, at the far end of the platform, squatted a massive creature, hunched over a pile of something radiating a thick, crimson heat. The beast was at least eight feet tall, packed with abnormal muscles and bone spikes piercing through the skin of its back.
The figure snapped its head in my direction. Its eyes glowed bright yellow in the dark.
The beast unhinged its jaw, packed with razor-sharp fangs, and let out a roar that made the concrete pillar next to me vibrate.
Son of a bitch. The hitman in the raincoat was just bait all along.