Doomsday Gluttony: I Level Up by Eating

Chapter 6

Ryatt’s POV

"Get him!" Easton roared.

The command was like a starter’s pistol. The man with the glowing green hand lunged from my left, while two others circled to my right. They moved with a predatory speed I hadn't seen in civilians, but my mind was already several steps ahead. 

"Stay back!" I shouted, swinging the butt of my rifle in a wide arc. 

The green-handed man sneered, ducking the blow. "Or what, terminal case? You going to cough on us?"

"I said stay back!" I repeated. My body felt electric. The Master Firearm Proficiency and the Lesser Healing Factor were working in tandem, my nerves firing with a clarity that was almost intoxicating. 

He reached for my throat, his fingers buzzing with that strange energy. "Give us the bag and maybe—"

I didn't let him finish. I dropped low, sweeping his legs out from under him. As he hit the pavement with a grunt, I slammed my elbow into his sternum. The impact felt different than it would have a week ago. I could feel the density of my own muscle, the raw power I’d extracted from the dead. He gasped, the light in his hands flickering out as he rolled away, clutching his chest.

"He's faster than he looks!" one of the others yelled, a woman with a serrated combat knife. "Don't underestimate him!"

She rushed me from the side, while a bulky man in a tactical vest tried to flank me from behind. I felt the air shift behind my neck.

"Behind you, Ryatt!" the woman mocked, trying to distract me.

I didn't need the warning. I spun on my heel, the movement fluid and instinctive. The man behind me had his arms outstretched, reaching for my pack. I pivoted, letting his momentum carry him past me, and drove a knee into his kidney. 

"Argh! Damn it!" he howled, stumbling into a parked car.

"You're making a mistake!" I yelled at Easton, who was still standing back, watching with narrowed eyes. "I don't want to kill your people!"

"Then stop fighting and surrender!" Easton shouted back. "You're one man! You can't beat all of us!"

The woman with the knife lunged. "Talk less, bleed more!"

She slashed at my face. I jerked my head back, feeling the cold kiss of the blade just inches from my skin. I grabbed her wrist, twisting it until I heard the joint pop. 

"Drop it," I hissed.

"Go to hell!" she spat, kicking at my shins.

I shoved her back into another approaching Awakener, creating a brief pocket of space. The fight was turning into a chaotic blur of limbs and steel. Every time I moved, I felt the imperfections in my form—the way my foot dragged slightly, the way my balance shifted too far to the left. I wasn't a master yet, but compared to the man who had been coughing up blood in a hospital bed yesterday, I was a god.

"Surround him!" the bulky man yelled, recovering from the knee strike. "Don't let him breathe!"

They closed the circle. I held the rifle by the barrel, using it as a club. I could have opened fire, could have ended three of them in a second, but I held back. I kept my movements jerky, making it look like I was panicking even as I systematically neutralized their strikes. 

Don't show them everything, I told myself. If Easton sees what I can really do, he won't stop until I'm dead or in a cage.

"Is this all you've got?" I panted, intentionally sounding more exhausted than I was. "A dozen of you against one sick guy?"

"You're not sick," Easton said, his voice dropping an octave as he stepped forward. "Move aside. All of you."

 the Awakeners scrambled back, forming a ring. Easton rolled his shoulders, his presence expanding until the very air felt heavy. 

"I'll handle this myself," Easton said, staring me down. "You’ve got potential, Ryatt. It’s a shame you’re so stubborn."

"I'm not your asset, Easton," I said, squaring my shoulders. "I'm just a man who wants to be left alone."

"In this world? No such thing."

Easton moved with a terrifying, disciplined burst of speed. He was at me in a heartbeat, his fist a blur. I raised my arms to block, but the force of the blow sent a jolt of pain through my forearms. 

"You're strong," I grunted, sliding back a foot.

"I've been an Awakener since the first hour," Easton said, launching a high kick that I barely dodged. "I’ve fought things you can’t imagine."

He followed up with a flurry of punches. I parried three, but the fourth caught me in the ribs. I felt a rib crack, a sharp, stabbing heat blooming in my side.

"Give up!" Easton commanded, swinging a heavy hook. "You're outclassed!"

"Not yet!" I barked. 

I stopped holding back quite so much. I ducked under his swing and buried a punch in his gut. It was like hitting a wall of solid rubber. He didn't even flinch; instead, he grabbed my shoulder and drove his forehead into my nose. 

Stars exploded in my vision. Blood sprayed across my lips. 

"Is that it?" Easton taunted, his hands glowing with a dull bronze light. "Is that all the 'luck' you have left?"

I spat blood on his boots. "I'm just getting started."

I lunged, using the Master Firearm Proficiency’s understanding of angles and distance to find the gaps in his guard. We traded blows—a blurred exchange of violence that left me with a sliced cheek and a bruised thigh, while I managed to land a solid kick to his knee that made him wince. 

He was better than I expected. Much better. Every time I thought I had an opening, his experience closed it. But I had the healing factor. The pain in my ribs was already dulling, the fracture knitting itself back together in real-time.

"You're fast," Easton admitted, breathing hard. "But you're sloppy. You won't last another five minutes."

"I don't need five minutes," I said.

I saw my opening. Easton overextended on a heavy straight punch. Instead of retreating, I stepped into his guard, taking a glancing blow to the shoulder to deliver a palm strike directly to his chin. His head snapped back, his eyes glazing for a split second.

It was the distance I needed. 

I didn't wait for him to recover. I turned and bolted toward the gap in the circle where the woman with the broken wrist was standing. 

"Hey! He's running!" she screamed.

"Get back here, coward!" Easton roared, find his voice again.

I didn't look back. I put everything I had into my legs, my lungs burning, my muscles screaming as the healing factor worked overtime to keep me moving. I dived over a low wall, scrambled through an alleyway, and vaulted a chain-link fence. 

I ran. I ran until the sounds of their shouting faded into the distance. I ran until the urban silence returned, broken only by the distant groans of the undead and the thumping of my own heart.

Finally, I collapsed behind a rusted dumpster in a secluded loading dock. 

"Damn it," I hissed, clutching my side. 

I peeled back my shirt. My ribs were purple and yellow, but the swelling was already going down. My nose was straight, though caked in dried blood. I reached into my pack, pulling out a bottle of high-strength painkillers and some antiseptic wipes I'd grabbed from the pharmacy.

"Stupid," I muttered to myself, swallowing two pills without water. "I should have just shot him."

But I knew why I hadn't. Information was the only currency that mattered now, and I’d kept mine. Easton knew I could fight, but he didn't know I was a monster in the making.

As the pills began to dull the throbbing in my chest, a flicker of red light caught my eye.

I froze. My breath hitched. 

A translucent red screen hovered in the air before me. It wasn't the usual level-up or skill notification. This one was pulsing, the edges jagged and dark.

[WARNING: REGIONAL ANOMALY DETECTED]

[ZONE BOSS HAS MANIFESTED: THE MUTATED GARGOYLE]

[LOCATION: ST. JUDE’S HOSPITAL DISTRICT]

[THREAT LEVEL: CALAMITY]

I stared at the words, my blood running cold. 

"Zone Boss?" I whispered. 

I looked back toward the direction of the hospital, where the sky seemed to be darkening, a heavy shadow settling over the spires of the buildings. The air felt charged, vibrating with a predatory energy that made the hair on my arms stand up.

My expression hardened. I looked at the red screen, then back at the supplies I’d nearly died for. 

"Calamity," I repeated.

I didn't know what a Zone Boss was, but the system didn't use words like that for ordinary monsters. If this thing was the apex of the area, it would be the ultimate test. And if it was as dangerous as the screen suggested...

"It is probably worth becoming stronger for," I said, my voice steadying.

I stood up, ignoring the lingering ache in my ribs, and began to prep my rifle. If there was a boss, there was a reward. And I wasn't finished evolving yet.