Victor had been sitting for several minutes now, slowly gathering himself.
He had torn off a large portion of his clothing, managing to make a makeshift bandage around his left arm and where his fingers should have been.
He stared blankly at both stumps resting on the floor.
Only four days had passed since the beginning of this misery, and he had already lost two fingers — along with the use of his left arm.
It was pitiful.
But objectively speaking, it had been inevitable. After all, who could survive through such chaos without losing a limb or two?
He supposed he should consider himself lucky his legs were still intact.
Losing an arm was one thing — but being unable to walk or run was no different from a death sentence.
Still, in the worst-case scenario, he could always use the Symbiote as a prosthetic. That would probably work, at least outside of combat.
Taking a deep breath, Victor stood up, leaning on his companion.
It shifted into the form of a cane — one that Victor had grown quite fond of.
With only three fingers, his grip wasn't the most stable, but fortunately, this wasn't an ordinary cane.
He was about to turn around and leave when he noticed a faint glow at the center of the Queen's crushed corpse.
Frowning, he didn't hesitate to plunge his hand into the heap of flesh.
His hand brushed against something hard lodged in what had once been the ant's chest.
Victor grabbed it and pulled with what little strength he had left, revealing a small crimson crystal.
His lips curved slightly as a dark green notification suddenly appeared before his eyes.
[Skill Crystal]
But his smile vanished almost instantly when he saw what followed.
[Increased Fertility]
«...Really? »
**
A small group of people spoke in hushed voices, holed up for over an hour inside a large chemistry classroom.
« Do you think he's coming back soon? »
A student trembled in the corner, still unable to adapt to the grim reality that their world had become — where every moment could be their last.
That single question cast a heavy silence over the room, smothering all conversation until one of the teachers — dressed in jeans and a checkered shirt — finally spoke up.
« He'll be back. That kid may not look reliable, but he's strong. »
Everyone knew it. They had seen him kill several monsters as if they were nothing.
Still, many couldn't help but fear for their lives, dreading that Victor might die like the others, leaving them to the mercy of whatever horrors lurked in the dark.
Of course, none of them were truly worried about Victor himself — only about what would happen to them if he got killed.
Why should they care about a stranger's life when their own was hanging by a thread? Even less if that stranger was a strange kid they used to make fun of.
It wouldn't make sense — unless one was a saint or a Buddha.
The quiet chatter resumed, though the mood had shifted, worry now filled the air as everyone began considering what they would do if Victor didn't return.
Only Lester remained calm. He was the only one who had seen the young man's companion.
He knew that something horrible and terrifying was protecting him, he couldn't imagine Victor being defeated by anything wandering the upper floors of the building.
But silence fell once more when a sound echoed faintly through the hallway.
Tak
Every nerve in the room tensed as some people among them grabbed whatever objects they could to defend themselves from a potential intruder.
Tak
It sounded like footsteps — though spaced unnaturally far apart.
Tak
It was close now. Sweat beaded on their foreheads.
The door creaked open, and a silhouette stepped inside.
They exhaled in relief when they saw who it was.
Victor had returned.
He was limping, his pale face twisted in pain with each step. A crude black bandage was wrapped around his right hand, small drops of blood continuously seeping through.
He held a jet-black cane that seemed to ripple faintly under the dim light of the room.
Victor spoke in a weary, hollow voice.
« What are you waiting for? Go. The building's clear. »
They hesitated for a moment, unsure if they could trust his words.
After all, they didn't really know him — and had already witnessed his… unusual behavior.
And though his strength spoke for itself, seeing him in such a pitiful state only made their doubt stronger.
That was until Lester stepped out of the room without looking back.
His fists were clenched, but his legs didn't falter. He nodded briefly at Victor — who didn't return the gesture.
Lester's action triggered a chain reaction. One by one, the others began to follow.
After all, if that frail, bespectacled boy could walk out without hesitation, what right did they have to stay behind trembling?
Of course, their reaction was nothing more than a simple herd effect — typical behavior of an intelligent, collectivist species.
Victor didn't wait for them to leave, he sat down on the cold tiled floor of the room, exhaling heavily.
Honestly, he wasn't even sure there weren't any surviving ants lurking somewhere — though the odds seemed low.
But he didn't care. The only thing he wanted now was to reach the infirmary and empty a bottle of painkillers.
Sleep sounded nice too.
But he couldn't allow himself that luxury yet — not while he was still in hostile territory.
So, while waiting for the others, he decided to check the spoils of his painful battle.
[You have slain Steel Jaw Ant (lvl 15)]
[You have...]
[You have slain Steel Jaw Queen (Lvl 24)]
[Level up. You gain 25 free points]
┌───────────── STATUS ─────────────┐
Name : Victor
Title : [Larva]
Class : X
Level : 23
Free Points : 50
STR 33 | AGI 29 | END 27
PER 32 | SPI 48 | MAG 37
[Skills]
[???] - [???] - [Child of the Swarm]
[Swarm]
[Symbiote] x1
└──────────────────────────────────┘
The rewards were satisfying — Victor had gained almost ten levels in just an hour.
He was secretly shocked by the Queen's abnormally high level and silently thanked the fact that she'd been physically incapable of defending herself. Otherwise, there was no doubt he'd be dead, feeding her brood instead.
Still, the victory left a bitter taste.
Was it really worth losing two fingers for this?
He quickly shook the thought away. What's done is done — there was no point dwelling on the past.
And who knew? Maybe one day he'd find a way to grow them back — with magic or something like that.
He had also learned that skill crystals didn't work the same way as in Beelzebub's memories. Instead of directly increasing his power, they seemed to give him the ability linked to them.
Victor didn't understand why this difference existed, but he didn't bother to think about it for long.
Still, of all the skills he could've gotten… it had to be that one.
It was useless beyond words.
He decided to keep it anyway — just in case it had another use or some hidden value.
No matter how useless they were, these crystals were still extremely rare.
*
Lester entered the room where Victor was resting, sitting against a wall, dazed, his cane laid horizontally across his legs.
« Hey, uh… we're done here. We can go… if that's okay with you. »
The boy with the bowl cut felt awkward pressing Victor when his condition was clearly miserable.
He couldn't imagine what had happened upstairs.
That was until he saw the first floor.
The pile of corpses oozing foul green blood, the organs and limbs of the grotesquely large ants splattered across walls and floor alike.
All of them, without exception, had vomited — not just from the sight, but from the stench.
Victor rose with difficulty, leaning on his cane.
He felt like an old cripple barely able to walk on his own.
Without a word, he passed the bespectacled boy and stepped into the hallway on the ground floor.
The fourteen students and teachers stood in silence, pale-faced, eyes downcast.
Without wasting a second, Victor walked past them and headed toward the door leading outside, where the darkness of night had begun to seep in.
The walk back was suffocatingly silent. Most of them were still haunted by the memory of the remais of the battle — or rather, the massacre — they had witnessed just minutes before.
It was unthinkable that a human could accomplish something like that, especially since they had never seen Victor's true strength since he usually contented himself with crushing the throats of stray monsters.
*
As soon as they reached the administrative building, Victor went straight to the infirmary, leaving the group to handle their own affairs.
He didn't care.
He'd done his part, it was up to them now.
The boy entered the room without even bothering to knock.
He had to hurry — his body wouldn't last much longer.
He headed straight for the white glass cabinet and pulled out a small translucent orange bottle.
Pouring two pills into his mouth, he swallowed them dry, without a second thought.
Gritting his teeth, he sat on ones of the beds and began unwrapping the torn piece of his t-shirt that he had tied around his bloody hand.
He stared at his stumps with a faint mix of regret and curiosity.
He wondered what it would feel like to touch his own bones.
Unfortunately for his morbid curiosity, he wouldn't know — not until he regained sensation in his left arm or if he gets amputated on the left side of his body.
If he ever did.
He was about to change the bandage when the sound of a door slamming open interrupted him.