Chapter 4 – Necessities

Jake’s stomach felt like a hollow, deflated balloon that someone was trying to twist into a knot.

Six hours of back-to-back push-ups and squats, fueling the entire grind with nothing but Minor Heal, had completely drained him. According to the system’s own logic, his body was out of calories and preparing to eat its own newly formed muscle tissue.

That was cool.

He needed food. Real food. And there wasn’t a single, half-stale granola bar left in his kitchen.

That physical necessity was the only reason he opened his door and stepped out into the hallway to brave the horrors outside. People.

The corridor near room 704 was a complete mess of noise. A crowd of people were packed into the tight space, their body heat radiating off the wallpaper, making the stagnant air smell like stale sweat and collective panic.

They were having another meeting, this one more pressing than the last. It was almost midnight now, judging by how dark it was getting outside.

Chloe stood at the center of the huddle.

“We have no food or water,” Chloe was saying, her eyes sweeping over the crowd. “Nothing. No water from the taps, no canned goods, no dry rations. If we stay on Floor 7, we’re just waiting to starve. This is now our reality.”

Even Arthur couldn’t deny it. He took a deep breath, gazing down at the heavy metal of his shield. “Though I don’t like it, the fact is, we need to move. I’ll stand in front, but that means we need people willing to go out there.”

He was willing to stand out in front? Wow, that was a lot more bravery than Jake thought he had.

Everyone looked at the heavy fire door leading to the stairwell. The question hung in the stale air: who was willing to risk a death between monster teeth just to eat?

Chloe straightened her spine, clumsily shifting her grip on a spear. “I will,” she said. “How many would we need?”

“Less is more,” Edwin muttered from the back. “We need a straight firing line down the hallway. Arthur has his big shield; he can protect me. Just give me an avenue to fire down, and I’ll riddle those shits with holes.”

“You’re a veteran, right?” Arthur asked.

Edwin just grunted.

“Then it’ll be good to have you.”

A tall, muscular man stepped forward. Short hair, handsome, symmetrical features. He had one of those faces people instinctively trusted—which meant, in Jake’s experience, he was exactly the type of person to avoid. He hefted a heavy fireman’s axe.

“Lyle,” he said. “Fireman. I don’t know much about fighting monsters, but if we don’t fix the water situation fast, we’re done.”

A hero. He’ll die first.

Susan barged through the huddle. Tears stained her face, and Jerry’s dried blood marked her clothes like abstract paint. Her heart rate was redlining, radiating pure, volatile heat. She held a meat cleaver.

Of all the weapons the system offered, she had picked a kitchen tool meant to slaughter.

“I don’t give a shit about food or water,” Susan spat, spittle flying from her teeth. Jake instinctively took a step back to clear his personal space. “Just put me in front.”

“Susan,” Chloe gulped, her news-anchor facade cracking. “I know you’re grieving—”

“Fuck off,” Susan snapped. “Don’t tell me how to feel. You need someone at the front? Fine. Don’t piss me off with that fake sympathy.”

Chloe choked on her next line.

Damn. She’s actually quite awesome.

“Okay…” Arthur stammered, clearly uncomfortable with the lack of social decorum. “You can come.” He turned to the remaining crowd. “Anyone else?”

A girl stepped forward, raising her hand. “I’ll join. Sloane.”

Arthur glanced at her weapon—a heavy English longsword—then looked at Edwin. Edwin gave a single, tight nod.

“Great,” Arthur said. “Is that it?”

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“No,” Edwin corrected. “We need two more. Someone with a ranged weapon. I won’t be enough. Hell, Susan and the girl will probably just get in our way.”

Sloane scowled. Susan just scoffed, her fingers tightening on the cleaver.

A guy with freckles and an ordinary face put his name forward. Jonathan. He had a composite bow.

Then, the neighbor standing right next to Jake shifted his weight, preparing to step forward. Jake didn’t want to lose a spot on the food run. He planted his elbow into the man’s ribs, nudging him firmly out of the way. Before the guy could even complain, Jake stepped into the circle.

“I’ll join. I have a Longbow.”

Edwin’s eyes fixed on the heavy wood of Jake’s bow. He nodded once.

“Okay,” Arthur announced, trying to regain control of the room. “Those who are joining us, please come to my room. We’ll discuss the plan in further detail. Everyone else, please rest. No good will come of panicking. Please leave the rest to us.”