Maybe Liam had told his friends about Elric's supplies, and they'd decided together that it would be easier to just take everything by force rather than honor a fair trade.
Elric picked up a few small stones from the ground, feeling their weight in his palm
"Yo, Elric! You around?"
The voice cut through the fog like a knife, loud and casual, completely unconcerned with whatever predators might be lurking nearby.
Elric turned sharply, his hand instinctively moving to the fruit knife in his pocket.
Eight figures were approaching through the mist—flashlights cutting pale streaks across the dark, creating moving pillars of light that made their shadows dance grotesquely behind them.
At the front was Liam Ford, tall and broad-shouldered with a buzz cut that emphasized his square jaw. A cheap silver chain glinted at his neck, catching the flashlight beams. He had the confident stride of someone who'd never really been afraid in his life—the kind of guy who'd bullied weaker students in high school and gotten away with it because he was good at sports.
Behind him were seven others—four guys, three girls—all in makeshift protective gear cobbled together from athletic jackets, scarves wrapped around their faces, and swimming goggles to protect their eyes from the fog.
They moved as a unit, clearly used to working together. Athletes, then. Probably from the swimming or track teams, used to coordinating and following leadership.
Elric's eyes flicked briefly to the last girl in the group.
She was striking—bronze skin that suggested mixed heritage, a long black ponytail that swayed as she walked, and sharp, confident eyes that screamed don't mess with me. Her build was athletic in the way that came from years of dedicated training, her posture straight and alert, movements fluid and dangerous.
A typical track-and-field beauty, the kind of girl who would have turned heads across campus.
But her expression carried an arrogant chill that ruined whatever warmth her looks might've offered. She surveyed the area like she owned it, like everyone else was just an obstacle in her path.
Elric's gaze returned to Liam, who was holding something in his hand—a strange, shimmering black-and-white fruit. It glowed faintly in the darkness, pulsing like it had its own heartbeat.
That fruit.
Elric recognized it immediately—a mutation catalyst. According to the system, these fruits appeared randomly throughout the fog-covered zones, drawn to areas of high spiritual energy or emotional resonance.
This one must have manifested near the athletics complex.
"Where are you, man?" Liam called out, swinging the fruit casually in his hand like it was an apple. "Got your supplies?"
Elric took a slow breath and stepped out from behind the board, a dark silhouette forming in the mist.
All eight flashlights immediately swung toward him, pinning him in overlapping circles of light.
He didn't flinch.
Instead, he tossed his backpack onto the ground in front of them with a dull thud, the contents shifting with a sound that clearly indicated weight and substance.
"There's no need for small talk," he said flatly, his voice muffled by the mask but still clear. "You've got the fruit. I've got the food. We trade, and we go our separate ways."
One of Liam's companions—a shorter guy with a wrestler's build—stepped forward and kicked the backpack open.
Inside the pack were ten boxes of instant noodles and ten sealed bottles of water, neatly arranged and still in their original packaging—more than enough to make the group's eyes widen.
They exchanged glances, communicating silently in the way that groups do when they're considering doing something terrible.
That was a lot of food.
More than anyone should have been able to gather in just two days of apocalypse.
Which meant one thing: if this guy had that much to spare… how much more was he hiding?
"Sorry, bro," one of the taller guys muttered, smirking as he cracked his knuckles. "Why don't we make this easier for everyone? You hand over everything you've got."
"Yeah," said another, stepping forward to flank Liam's position. "Come on, Elric. We're all trying to survive here. Liam can keep it safe for everyone."
The implication was clear: everyone meant them, not Elric.
"Right," one of the girls chimed in with fake sympathy, her voice dripping with manufactured concern. "It's not right to hoard supplies in times like this. We should all share what we have."
Funny how "sharing" only went one direction.
Liam didn't say anything at first. He just gave Elric a slow, measured grin that didn't reach his eyes—the smile of a predator that had cornered its prey.
His hand tightened around the fruit, and the faint black-and-white light flickered like a pulse, responding to his intent.
The athletic girl with the ponytail crossed her arms, looking bored. "Just give us your stash, and we won't have problems. Simple."
Elric exhaled softly and rolled his shoulders, loosening the muscles that had tensed during the confrontation.
He could feel the tension rising, the shift in air pressure that always came right before things went bad. It was the same feeling he'd had moments before fights broke out in high school, before accidents happened, before the world shifted from peaceful to violent in the span of a heartbeat.
Figures, he thought coldly. It was never a trade.
This was always going to be a robbery.
Liam had never intended to honor their agreement. He'd brought his friends specifically for this—strength in numbers, intimidation, the promise of violence if Elric didn't comply.
They probably thought he'd be easy. Thought he'd panic, beg, maybe try to negotiate for scraps of his own supplies.
They had no idea what he'd become in the last forty-eight hours.
Elric's hand moved slowly toward his pocket, fingers wrapping around the handle of his fruit knife.
"Last chance, Elric," Liam said, his voice hardening. "Hand it over, or we take it."
The fog swirled between them, thick and pregnant with violence.
Somewhere in the distance, something howled—a sound that was neither human nor animal, but something caught horribly between the two.
None of them noticed.
They were too focused on each other, too committed to the confrontation to pay attention to the real dangers lurking in the mist.
Elric's lips curved into a cold smile beneath his mask.
"If you want it," he said quietly, "come and take it."
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