To Isaac’s utter disappointment, the sweet adrenaline pumping through his veins slowly vanished when he knocked on the next door. Silence answered his call, and the light grin slipped off his face. Still, a voice in the back of his mind tried to tell him he should be happy—after all, this meant his neighbors could still be alive.

  I’m going mad, or this Virus is affecting me more than the Interface described, he mused, scratching his head. Either way, something is changing.

  In the span of a single morning, he had gone from avoiding conflict at all costs to actively seeking it out. The constant adrenaline rush in quick succession also couldn’t be normal or healthy, for that matter. Then again, biology wasn’t exactly his area of expertise; it definitely wasn’t back in school.

  Yet, from what little he remembered reading here and there, wasn’t adrenaline supposed to be just a survival tool for humans in critical moments? So why did it feel like something more? As if his own blood was singing to him, begging him for more, carving more.

  More of what? Conflict, blood, death, it really could be any of those, and quite frankly, Isaac was willing to give it just that. It was his plan from the start, wasn’t it? To chase the thrill of facing the Wretched, to feel more of it.

  Maybe then, this call of blood would lead him to the source.

  Or to a mental institution, Isaac thought with a snort, stepping away from the final door on this floor.

  He was ready to grab his dresser and go down another floor, but then the broken window at the end of the hallway caught his attention. Even if he didn’t plan to go outside just yet, a quick look couldn’t hurt. He was a bit curious if the Wretched that had chased him were still out there.

  With a nod, he picked up the discarded crowbar and approached the window. Carefully avoiding the jagged glass around the frame, he climbed out onto the fire escape.

  Huh. He hummed, looking left and right. Empty… that’s a surprise.

  His gaze strayed more toward the left side of the alley, where the other man he had saved ran off. He couldn’t spot any blood or signs of fighting on the way, but then again, his eyes could only see so much from this distance. For all he knew, that guy could be now walking among the hordes on the streets.

  Or he is hiding inside the shop. Isaac shrugged, climbing back through the window. Maybe once he had to go out, he would check if the man was still alive. Until then, he had other stuff to take care of.

  Second floor, here I come.

  He grunted, heaving up the dresser and continuing down the stairs. His left leg burned, but he didn’t stop or look at it. He could handle a little pain. He only hoped his body could withstand a bit more blood loss.

  He didn’t feel dizzy, so that had to be a good sign, right?

  Isaac shook his head and placed the dresser near the first door. Then, he repeated the same process from the last two floors.

  Yank the handle, jump behind the cover, and get ready to swing.

  It was all for nothing. The first apartment door wouldn’t open, and there were no sounds from the other side. The same went for the second and third doors on this floor. Although, Isaac could have sworn he had heard a whisper or something else coming from behind one of them.

  That’s disapp— He stopped himself before he could finish that thought. He really should stop wishing death on his neighbors—even if they refused to open the door and talk to him. He had only himself to blame for that.

  “Maybe you then?” he muttered, setting up before the final door. Crowbar in hand, he knocked hard.

  Multiple screeches erupted from within the apartment. A moment later, a force slammed into the door, shaking it slightly but not doing much else. Isaac smiled.

  Finally.

  As the Wretched continued to pound on the door, he moved the dresser, placing it the same way he did when he last faced multiple monsters. He then took a position behind it, put a hand on the doorknob, and twisted it.

  The door didn’t click.

  Frowning, Isaac tried again, only to get the same result. The door didn’t budge, not even with the Wretched attacking it from the other side. Not even a third attempt changed that.

  All right. Now that’s disappointing…

  A sigh left his lips as his mind already raced with ideas. Brute-forcing it open wouldn’t do. Aside from a low chance of success, he would only tire himself out and waste time this way. Another part of him considered finishing out his phone and finding a guide on how to pick locks.

  He discarded that idea as quickly as it came. He had trusted the Internet only once in the past, and it had the old man laughing at him for almost a week straight. Never again…

  Isaac cast one final, pitiful glance at the door and turned away. Nothing he could do here for now.

  First floor it is then…

  Another trudge down the stairs placed him in front of the final three apartments in this building. There was also a large storage room at the far end of the hallway, but he could check that out later. He doubted there was anything interesting there aside from a few bikes.

  Useless, he thought, placing the dresser in front of the first door. With more space than on the other floors, his standard tactic wouldn’t work, but he could still use the large block of wood as an obstacle. Other than that, everything depended on how many Wretched were inside the apartments.

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  Isaac raised his hand to knock on the first door but paused as a glint of movement caught his eye. His arm fell as his gaze darted toward the source.

  There!

  It was a small, oval gem lying almost beneath the stairs leading to the upper floors. It didn’t glow, and its dark violet surface wasn’t static. To Isaac, it looked as if there was some kind of black mist moving inside the object.

  And then there was the blood scattered around it.

  Is this where the Wretched fell? Isaac looked up. It sure would make sense. But what are you?

  He nudged the gem with his crowbar to no effect. The dark mist within continued to move, but that was all that happened.

  Interface, Overseer? Anybody?

  No response.

  Isaac’s shoulders dropped. “Wonderful,” he mumbled, reaching out with his hand. In hindsight, he really should have grabbed some gloves from his apartment. Not that he could have predicted a Wretched leaving something behind.

  Too late now, he thought just as his finger brushed the gem—or tried to.

  As if sensing a living and breathing creature close, the alien rock dissolved into a puddle of goo that jumped onto his extended hand. Isaac’s eyes snapped wide open as he yanked his arm back and shook it wildly.

  The goo didn’t fall off.

  Instead, it sank into his skin within a few seconds, leaving Isaac shivering as he felt the alien substance moving across his body toward the middle of his chest. There it settled and vanished, taking away the uncomfortable sensation with it.

  He gasped, his heart pounding like a drum. What in the…

  Familiar red letters materialized in front of his eyes.

  Well done, you have absorbed an Inferior Virality Gem. Your Virus has grown in strength.

  Current progress: 9 out of 20 | Rewards claimed: 159 out of 500

  “What?” Isaac muttered. “But I haven’t killed anything since then…”

  Only the Interface didn’t care about that. Somehow, for reasons beyond his comprehension, the tiny gem counted as three whole killed Wretched. He had no idea how that made any sense considering it was left behind by one of them.

  Before he could dwell on it, the pounding from the floor above snapped him back to the present. He had assumed that the Wretched there would get bored after some time, but apparently, their desire to get out only grew stronger.

  Another loud slam filled the entire staircase. Isaac’s eyes darted to the dresser in the middle of the hallway, then back to the stairs.

  Maybe just in case.

  Not wasting a second, Isaac pushed the heavy furniture all the way back to the stairs, blocking the path. It wouldn’t do much in the long run, but even a few extra seconds could be game-changing if the Wretched managed to escape.

  Now for you…

  Crowbar in hand, Isaac turned his attention to the middle apartment. The scraping of the dresser against the floor made more than enough noise to alert anyone alive on this floor. That included the lone Wretched behind the second door. At least, he hoped it was a single monster—its screeching was particularly quiet.

  One, two, three!

  The door slid open with a click, and the growling became louder. Isaac didn’t step back or ready his weapon. Instead, he waited.

  Then, as soon as the Wretched’s arm came into view, he slammed the door shut with every ounce of strength offered by his body and the familiar blood rush settling in his veins. The beast hissed in pain, losing its footing and collapsing in the middle of the doorway.

  For good measure, Isaac slammed the door again before turning the corner and finishing the job.

  Ten left to go.

  For a moment, he waited for the body to vanish, hoping for another gem, but a resounding crash followed by a loud thump cut that short. He barely had a second—a startled squeak being his only warning—to throw himself to the side as a Wretched crashed to the ground right next to him.

  Another burst of adrenaline flooded his veins as screeches joined the pained wail of the beast lying next to him. He jumped into action, guided by the thrum of his blood.

  He flipped the disoriented Wretched onto its back and drove his knife between its ribs. The beast stilled, and he yanked the blade out before bolting toward the crowbar lying close to the only open door.

  The moment the tool landed in his hand, two more Wretched turned the corner on the staircase, both heading toward his makeshift barrier. Isaac’s mind barely paid attention to how one of the monsters was only about two-thirds the size of the other.

  By the time the Wretched reached the dresser, the crowbar was already mid-swing, slamming into the taller’s jaw only a second later. It stumbled, crashing headfirst into the piece of furniture. Unfortunately, the smaller monster wasn’t affected.

  Even with its shorter frame, it managed to reach Isaac’s extended arm with its sharp fingernails. They tore through the leather jacket and shirt but, thankfully, only nicked the flesh beneath. It still stung, though.

  He hissed, jerking his arm and entire body back. As much as he would have liked to hit the taller monster again, there was no way he could do that with the other one already swiping at him again.

  However, at least the pain in his arm faded as his blood sang louder.

  Focus!

  Isaac swung the crowbar again once the smaller Wretched attempted to climb the dresser. He aimed for the head, but an arm came just in time to block it. The beast screeched as its bones snapped.

  Bad move.

  His free hand balled into a fist and whacked the Wretched right in the face. It staggered back, collapsing onto the stairs. And just in time, too, as the taller monster was finally showing signs of waking up.

  I don’t think so.

  Grabbing the knife he had discarded earlier, Isaac plunged it into the back of the monster’s neck. A gurgle escaped its throat, so he stabbed it two more times for good measure.

  This time, it didn’t let out a single sound.

  One left.

  The smaller Wretched still lay on the stairs, its yellow eyes wide as it stared at him. For a moment, as Isaac climbed over the dresser, he thought that maybe it was scared, but then its gaze darkened, and the beast lunged forward with one working arm.

  He blocked the incoming swipe with the crowbar and drove his foot into the beast’s chest. Once it fell, a knife between the ribs finished the job.

  Current progress: 13 out of 20 | Rewards claimed: 196 out of 500

  “Holy shit,” Isaac muttered between deep breaths.

  The rest of the world slowly returned into focus, the distant sounds of violence registering in his ears once more. The adrenaline rush—and the song of his blood—also vanished without a warning. Without it, he stumbled, barely staying upright thanks to the railing next to him.

  Then, the pain hit.

  “Fuck!” Isaac hissed. He could hardly feel the cut on his arm, but his leg? That one burned almost as bad as it did back when the Wretched slashed him. “Why the hell did I have to kick it?”

  He tugged his pants up, exposing the drenched bandage. At least the blood didn’t leak out yet, so that was nice. Still, he should probably change the dressing soon and maybe take another painkiller—not that it seemed to help.

  But first… I gotta climb all the way back to my apartment.

  “Great…”