Horizon Tower, Eightieth Floor.
The climb up the emergency stairwell was a depressing tour through the sudden death of the upper class. The elevators had long since been disabled by the failing power grid.
Sebastian took the stairs three at a time. His aluminum baseball bat rested casually against his shoulder. His breathing was steady and his heart rate barely elevated.
The five percent physical synchronization with his avatar had turned his cardiovascular system into a biological machine.
The stairwell was a gallery of modern tragedy. He stepped over the mangled remains of tech CEOs in expensive suits and socialites in ruined evening gowns. The air was thick with the copper stench of fresh blood and the distinct sulfurous odor of Void corruption.
The early Infected were messy eaters. The pristine white marble steps were slick with arterial spray and dragged guts.
"Money buys a lot of things," Sebastian murmured to himself as he paused. He scraped a piece of someone's intestine off the heel of his boot. "But it apparently does not buy cardio."
He reached the heavy reinforced fire door of the eightieth floor. The metal was buckled outward. It sported massive indentations of something hitting it with the force of a wrecking ball.
Sebastian did not bother using the handle. He simply kicked it.
The synchronized strength in his leg snapped the heavy steel hinges like dry twigs. The door crashed into the opulent hallway beyond.
He stepped out of the stairwell and into Valerie's world.
The penthouse corridor was a sprawling display of obscene wealth. Vaulted ceilings, crystal chandeliers, and walls lined with authentic Renaissance artwork decorated the space. But the art was currently overshadowed by the horrific violence ringing from the far end of the hall.
A Level 10 Flesh Hulk was enthusiastically attempting to remodel the safe room.
Sebastian walked down the plush blood soaked carpet. He took his time to analyze the elite mob. The system aggressively targeted individuals with pre existing physical conditioning. In this case, it was Valerie's private corporate security detail.
The bodyguard had mutated into a grotesque asymmetrical nightmare.
The Hulk stood nearly eight feet tall. Its original tactical suit was torn to shreds by its massive muscles. Its skin was a sickly mottled grey and stretched so tightly over its bulging veins that it was actively splitting open.
Thick neon yellow pus oozed from the tearing flesh. It sizzled faintly as it hit the hardwood floor. The creature did not have a neck anymore. Its head was swallowed by massive pulsing shoulder muscles.
It mindlessly raised two fists the size of boulders and slammed them into the reinforced titanium door of the panic room.
BANG.
The entire hallway shook. The titanium was already sporting terrifying inward dents.
"Rough day at the office?" Sebastian called out. His voice was a flat deadpan drawl that cut through the sounds of destruction.
The Flesh Hulk stopped mid swing. It turned slowly. Its swollen red glowing eyes locked onto the man in the ragged clothes holding an aluminum baseball bat.
It let out a guttural wet roar. It was a mix of a human scream and an animalistic snarl that sprayed a fine mist of yellow bile into the air.
Sebastian did not raise his bat. The aluminum would just bounce off that kind of muscle density. He did not have the time to sit here playing games with a walking steroid advertisement.
He needed magic.
But his reality synchronization was only at five percent. If he tried to summon a huge spell right now, his physical brain would instantly fry. It would leak out of his ears as his body spontaneously combusted.
He needed something cheap and foundational.
He dug into the recesses of his knowledge. He bypassed the elemental trees and reached into the dark necrotic arts. He visualized the most basic pathetic curse a beginner warlock could muster. It was a simple hex designed to lower a slime's defense by a fraction of a percent.
He channeled a minuscule drop of his real world mana into his right hand.
The reality overlay flickered violently in his vision. The system recognized the intent and the action.
Then the glitch woke up. The beautiful world breaking multiplier activated.
[Action Registered]
↳ Cast Basic Necromancy Hex
[Nexus Glitch Activated]
↳ Proficiency x10,000
[Basic Hex leveled up to 10/10]
↳ Max Level Reached
[Evolution Requirement Met]
↳ Basic Hex evolves to Tier 1: Rotting Grasp
[Proficiency Overflow Detected]
↳ Rotting Grasp leveled up to 10/10
[WARNING: Concept Threshold Breached]
↳ Biological Law Unlocked
↳ Rotting Grasp evolves to Conceptual Law: Touch of Decay
A jolt of absolute freezing cold shot up Sebastian's arm. The veins in his right hand turned pitch black. The darkness spread to his fingertips.
He felt the terrifying mathematical certainty of entropy. He understood exactly how to tell a biological organism that its time was simply up.
The Flesh Hulk charged. It crossed the hallway in two massive thundering strides. It raised its grotesque pus leaking arms to crush Sebastian into paste.
Sebastian stepped into the charge with fluid grace. He ducked under the wildly swinging fists. The sheer kinetic force of the monster's attack ruffled his hair. He pivoted smoothly and slipped behind the towering mass of mutated muscle.
He did not wind up. He simply reached out and slapped his open palm flat against the center of the Flesh Hulk's broad twitching back.
"Spoil," Sebastian whispered.
The effect was instantaneous and utterly revolting.
The conceptual law bypassed the monster's massive health pool and dense armor ratings. It directly attacked the cellular bonds holding the creature together. The Flesh Hulk froze as a horrific gurgling gasp escaped its ruined throat.
Where Sebastian's hand had made contact, a circle of absolute rot blossomed outward at a terrifying speed. The grey hardened skin instantly blackened and turned to ash.
But it did not stop at the skin. The massive muscle fibers directly beneath lost their structural integrity. They liquefied into a foul bubbling black sludge.
The monster shrieked. The sound bubbled through a throat that was rapidly dissolving.
Without the thick layers of muscle to support its own immense mutated weight, the creature's skeletal structure catastrophically failed. The Hulk's own ribs tore outward through its dissolving skin with a sickening series of wet snaps.
A torrential mess of gangrenous rot, liquefied organs, and unspooled blackened intestines splashed heavily onto the pristine mahogany floor.
Within three seconds, the towering elite mob had been reduced to a steaming putrid puddle of biological waste and a few highly corroded bones.
Sebastian stepped back. He calmly wiped a stray drop of black sludge off the cuff of his jacket. He looked at the smoking puddle of gore and then up at the heavily dented panic room door.
"Pest control," Sebastian announced loudly. He rapped his knuckles against the titanium. "I believe you owe me a consultation fee."
For a long moment, there was nothing but the sound of the acidic rain lashing against the penthouse windows. Then the heavy mechanical clanking of multiple deadbolts retracting sounded through the hall.
The door hissed open. It swung outward with a heavy pneumatic sigh.
Valerie stood in the doorway. She was still wearing the same tailored high end corporate suit she had likely worn to the office that morning. Her raven hair was plastered to her forehead with sweat.
She clutched a heavy silver plated magnum in her trembling hands. The barrel pointed directly at Sebastian's chest.
Her dark blue eyes shifted from his deadpan face down to the horrific steaming puddle of liquefied human remains soaking into her expensive carpets. She looked at the ribs sticking out of the black sludge. She inhaled the suffocating eye watering stench of absolute decay that now completely filled the hallway.
A normal civilian would have screamed. A normal person would have dropped the gun and vomited until their stomach bled.
Valerie did neither. She stared at the gore. Her chest heaved and her knuckles were white around the grip of her pistol. She slowly lowered the weapon. Her eyes traced the black fading veins on Sebastian's right hand.
She was not looking at him with fear. She was looking at him with the calculating desperate gaze of a woman who had just realized the old rules of the world were dead. The man standing in front of her was the author of the new ones.
She turned around and disappeared into the panic room for a brief second. When she returned, she effortlessly dragged a heavy reinforced steel briefcase across the floor. She shoved it over the threshold.
It hit the mahogany with a heavy metallic thud that spoke of extreme density.
"Fifty pounds of untraceable serialized gold bullion," Valerie said. Her voice was raspy but entirely devoid of hysteria. "Plus two military grade encrypted satellite phones with independent solar chargers."
Sebastian looked at the briefcase and then up at the heiress. He let out a low genuine whistle of approval. "You pack light princess."
"I pack what matters," Valerie countered as she stepped out of the panic room.
She did not tiptoe around the puddle of gore. She stepped right through the edge of it. Her expensive designer heels splashed in the black sludge as she closed the distance between them.
She stopped mere inches from him. She completely ignored the suffocating smell of rot that clung to his clothes.
"You said you have a bunker. You said you have firepower. I have the capital. Get me out of this building and I will fund your entire war."
Sebastian looked down into her fierce unyielding eyes. The Arcane Valkyrie was waking up early.
"Deal," Sebastian said. He grabbed the handle of the briefcase. It easily weighed over seventy pounds but to his synchronized muscles it felt like a feather. "Try to keep up. The stairs are a bit messy."