A long black scimitar suddenly fell to the ground with a metallic crash.
Its blade was slightly curved; though dark, it was so sharp that Victor could almost see his reflection in its edge.
The handle was simple dark brown leather.
There were no useless engravings, no unnecessary ornamentation.
This weapon was made to kill, and nothing else.
Victor grabbed the handle with his only usable hand, squeezing his three remaining fingers around the grip.
He tried to lift it.
But nothing.
The thing was far too heavy; despite being only about sixty centimeters long, the metal it was made of was so dense that even with strength far above that of a normal human, Victor could barely move it, let alone lift it.
However, that wouldn't be a problem for long.
Without thinking, Victor invested seventeen of his points into strength, raising the total to fifty. With the bonus the weapon itself provided, his strength rose to an impressive sixty-five.
The boy closed his eyes for a moment, letting himself be swept away by the surge of power coursing through him, flooding every cell and every sense.
He opened his eyes, licking his lips.
It truly was the best sensation.
He doubted anything in this vast world could compare to it.
Victor gripped the weapon again, and this time it didn't resist.
Although he could still feel its weight, he was able to swing it relatively easily.
A disproportionate smile stretched across his lips.
He was impatient to test his new toy.
No matter on who or what.
His excitement vanished a second later as he felt a slight itch in his right arm, forcing him to drop the weapon to the ground.
The faint itch quickly turned into uncontrollable tremors spreading through his entire body, making Victor collapse helplessly.
Unfortunately for him, it didn't stop there—soon the tremors transformed into pain so intense that saliva mixed with blood poured freely from his wide-open mouth.
It felt as if thousands of tiny insects were burrowing through his body, centimeter by centimeter, cell by cell.
He couldn't even scream, the pain was too great.
And yet he had already experienced plenty of agony before—but this, this was beyond anything he had ever felt.
Anna, until then distracted by the holographic screen before her, turned her gaze, raising an eyebrow at the pathetic sight of the boy.
She approached him, twirling her short blades cheerfully in her hands.
A gentle smile tugged at her features as she placed a hand on her chin.
« Hmm, maybe I should get rid of you? »
Victor's body was uncontrollable, spasming and twisting against his will.
But despite that, he managed to lock his dark eyes onto Anna's hazel pupils.
She froze, staring into the abyss within his eyes.
Though she could no longer count how many people she had killed with her own hands, she remembered every look, every plea, every expression as they faced inevitable death.
After all, that was what she loved most about what she did.
But the boy's eyes…
It was as if no matter what happened, he was indifferent.
As if his own death had nothing to do with him.
Or… did he want her to kill him?
« Tsk… you're no fun. »
Where was the pleasure if the victim didn't beg?
How could she enjoy it if despair didn't flood her target's face?
« Little killjoy. »
She stepped back, returning to her thoughts while Victor slowly sat up, his body numb in a way he had never felt before.
He wiped the drool hanging from his chin with his sleeve, revealing his face once again expressionless.
If he had known acquiring this skill would be so painful… well, he would've taken it anyway, but he would have prepared himself mentally.
Grabbing his knife—its blade already dulled—he made a small cut on the upper part of his left arm, which still hung limply at his side.
A few millimeters under the first layer of skin was something that shouldn't have been there: an ivory carapace, bright white.
It was his new exoskeleton, a shell giving him extra protection against all sorts of physical damage.
And although he was a bit disappointed that this ability didn't restore sensation in his left arm, he had other plans for it anyway.
He glanced at the brunette, whose skin had taken on a strange grayish tint, likely due to a skill she had selected.
« That was your only chance. I hope you won't regret it. »
She didn't spare him a single look, playing absentmindedly with the deadly blade in her hand.
« Whatever, killing you would be as boring as talking to you. »
« So that's what motivates you? Fun? Pleasure? »
A mocking smile curved the brunette's lips as she sheathed her blade upon hearing approaching footsteps.
« Wait, let me think… what was it again? Oh right—something like 'none of your business,' wasn't it?»
Victor's right eye twitched, but he stayed silent, also aware of the three humans approaching.
The three remaining group members arrived seconds later, their clothes torn, numerous minor wounds marking their sweat-soaked bodies; even Daniel's heavy axe had been reduced to a simple wooden handle.
Mary, exhaustion carved into her face, frowned in anger.
« What the hell were you two doing? We almost died over there! »
Victor held himself back from replying; from now on, he couldn't behave as before—he needed to be accepted, they needed to trust him.
Just thinking about it nearly gave him a headache.
But as expected, Anna faced the blonde.
« What are you talking about? We saved you, just so you know. »
« You should have come back and told us so we could make a decision together! »
« Oh really? And why is that? You're not the boss, in case you forgot. »
Daniel stepped between them, preventing the argument from escalating.
« Not the time. Deal with it back at camp. »
Victor could almost see sparks between the two women, but they finally dropped it.
A relief to him—returning with another corpse wouldn't give him a good impression.
« Let's go. »
*
The sun was just beginning to set when the group of five reached the mall parking lot.
Stefan's body still lay there, half-devoured by some creature.
Daniel placed his calloused hand on Mary's shoulder as she stopped walking, staring blankly.
« Say your goodbyes now. We won't be able to take him with us. »
The blonde nodded, kneeling beside her friend's mutilated body in poignant silence—a gesture Victor interpreted as a sign of respect.
It was also one of the things he never understood.
Paying homage to a pile of decomposing flesh and bone?
For what purpose?
To soothe the soul of the dead? To remember important memories? To pray to some god for salvation?
What stupidity—it made as much sense as kneeling before a steak to remember a cow.
« Those two knew each other for a long time. »
Daniel whispered, careful not to disturb the blonde.
« He was Mary's childhood friend and her son's godfather. »
The heavy-set man sighed deeply.
« What a shame… if only you had arrived a little earlier... But whatever, I'm not blaming you. We can only blame our own weakness. »
« Why tell me that? »
As if he cared about the past of this rotting pile of meat lying on the asphalt.
« I don't want you to feel guilty for his death. No matter how strong you are, a kid your age shouldn't have to witness—let alone participate in—all of this. »
Guilt? Victor couldn't remember ever feeling such a thing in his life.
« Your concern is unnecessary. I didn't know him. »
Daniel's face darkened, his voice growing heavier.
« You don't feel empathy for him? Or for Mary, who lost someone dear? »
Victor grabbed a black scarf he had taken from the empty clothing store and wrapped it around his neck, hiding his mutilated mouth.
« You know, before all this mess, on average, one human died every seven seconds. »
He took a step toward Daniel, his eyes darker than ever locking onto the man's brown ones.
« Did you ever spare them a thought? »
« Did you ever pray for them? »
« Did you ever cry for them? »