The man behind the window who was wearing a newer model meld-suit with PPE attachments and a radiation-resistant filter helmet nodded. After crouching and shuffling around his supply boxes with robotic movements, he stood and haphazardly placed them in a paper bag. He only handed over the items after receiving Sigmarus’ payment of two hundred and thirty credits, one hundred for each of the extra pills and thirty for the food and water.

Wanting to avoid potential conflict, he quickly stepped away from the counter with the bag cradled in one arm. As soon as the people directly behind him in line saw the bag, their eyes glittered with desperation and greed. Sigmarus’ heart frosted over the moment he saw their expressions. Normally, he could get away with purchasing five pills. That obviously wasn’t the case this time.

I guess that brief conversation with that Tahm guy made these guys focus on me.

Three of the people who had been standing behind him grouped up and started whispering to each other. All three of them had minor deformities and pale discolored skin. Based on the sickly tint of their faces, their Sv counts were probably reaching dangerous levels. Most likely, they were destitute people from the streets who happened to come to this distribution center. Observing their shifty gazes, he didn’t know if he could avoid a conflict after leaving this room.

Sighing, Sigmarus stepped through the doorway leading to the stairwell. He glanced over his shoulder occasionally and eventually saw the three men exit the line in order to follow him. They could always re-enter the line later, after all.

Calmly descending the stairs, he glanced over the people still standing in line. Whenever someone showed any signs of coveting his supplies, he simply glared at them. It was something he learned to do over the years, but his current physique added more intimidation than he expected. Each and every one of them backed off with their heads lowered.

Others who actually lived in this building recognized him and couldn’t help staring at his lean muscles stretching out his shirt. They couldn’t believe this was the same skin and bones foundation melder they had seen traipsing to and from this building. Someone from the same floor as him who had seen him a week or so ago couldn’t help staring with mouth agape even as he walked out of sight. Sigmarus probably didn’t have to worry about most of those people trying to steal from him in the first place, though. Anyone who could afford to rent space probably had enough credits to buy an extra pill or two.

Since the line ended somewhere around the third floor, he walked through the door to the second floor hallway in peace, finally releasing a breath and dropping his cold expression. The faces of the people who knew the him from a week ago flashed through his mind, causing him to smirk. His physique was still lean and lanky, but his previous self had been such a twig that his sturdier unchiseled musculature was enough to shock them. Those baffled expressions of theirs told him that all of his efforts hadn’t been in vain even though he hit the stat limit this morning.

That smirk faded as he casually walked down the silent hallway. Now that he was alone, he took the opportunity to place his bag of supplies in his inventory. To his surprise, the bag only filled a single slot, though it was the final free one. A sixth slot which was empty then appeared next to the icon displaying a pixelated paper bag.

Behind him, he heard the metal door sliding open, followed by the footsteps of a few people. As expected, they had decided to risk taking his iodide pills. Unsurprised by the development, he suppressed his irritation at their desperation and nonchalantly turned around. He stared at them. All three stared back with wavering eyes. Then, they pulled shivs made from metal scrap and tattered cloth from their pockets.

“Pl- please hand over your pills, and we won’t hurt you.”

Sigmarus’ eyes narrowed. He hadn’t expected them to pull weapons out. Beating these guys might be possible with his current strength, but weapons would even the playing field. Still, he didn’t back away.

How many times had he been ganged up on in the past? Fifty hands wouldn’t even be enough to count. Even when he was smaller and weaker than the handful of classmates who tied him up as a punching bag the day before graduation, he gritted his teeth and took the hits until his ribs cracked. Even when he was mugged by a group of five muskrats after the first time he received his iodide pills, he endured their callous kicks and held onto the pills with steadfast determination. If there was one thing he could do better than others back then, it was enduring pain. A few shivs couldn’t scare him off, especially when the wielders were all shaking with apprehension. Even if he had still been a useless sack of skin and bones, he would stand firm.

When the guy standing in front of the trio saw that his threat didn’t change Sigmarus’ attitude at all, he cautiously stepped forward and stammered, “We- we’ll r- really do it!”

Not moving an inch, Sigmarus grumbled, “Come, then.”

On the inside, however, he thought, I hope I won’t have to waste time on stitches later.

Meanwhile, the frontman for the street trio glanced at his two allies for support. They all nodded to each other. They slowly advanced together. They closed the distance. A brief moment of heavy silence hovered in the air between the two sides. Then, the frontman charged forward with his shiv.

Heart pounding faster and faster each second, Sigmarus focused every ounce of his perception. He leaned sideways. The shiv swished by his shoulder. The opponent raised his brows. He hadn’t expected a quick evasion.

Behind the first man, the other two slinked around. One stabbed. One slashed. Unable to escape from both, Sigmarus evaded the stab. The slash grazed his right arm. A jagged red line trailed behind the sharpened metal.

Sigmarus winced. He ignored those two men. The first man was attacking again. The frontman rebalanced himself and swung. Glaring, Sigmarus leaned forward. The rugged blade sliced into his chest. His fist slugged against the man’s jaw. It cracked. The man’s eyes darkened. His knees crumpled and his body fell to the ground.

Sensing danger behind, Sigmarus ducked and angled his body. The two blades barely missed. One man lost his balance. The other slashed again.

Sigmarus raised his right arm. The shiv sliced through his outer arm. While blocking, he raised his leg and smashed his heel into the stumbling man’s ribs. A sickening crunch echoed. He screamed and dropped to the floor.

Stunned, the last man backed off. His eyes trembled. He looked at the unconscious frontman. Then the man who was screaming while clutching his side. Fear dulled his mind. He dropped his blade and ran for the stairwell.

Sigmarus watched the fleeing man with cold eyes. The man had abandoned his allies. He was a coward. From there, he looked down at the conscious man. The man shuddered and whimpered. He squirmed toward the wall and raised his shiv toward Sigmarus.

“Please don’t kill me! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! We were desperate!”

Kill?

For a moment, Sigmarus thought about leveling up. Adrenaline fueled his thoughts. These men were weak. Their bones broke after a single hit. He could easily reap their lives. But…

“I won’t.”

Although he could probably gain experience from killing these guys, he didn’t want to grow that way. Gaining freedom by stealing the freedom of others? That wasn’t the brand of freedom he desired. Such a road would definitely be lonely. He didn’t want to obtain anything at the expense of his heart. The remaining shards of humanity forming his current self was all he had.

I don’t want to be like those tragic characters.

Not bothering with the two men anymore, he turned away and walked toward his apartment. Along the way, he checked the wounds on his arms and chest. The thin cut on his left arm barely drew blood while the cut on his right arm bled down his arm and dripped from his fingers. Those weren’t really worth worrying over though. They would heal quickly enough. The one on his chest, though…

Damn. I’m gonna need stitches.

Cold and sticky blood gradually soaked into the cloth of his ruined shirt below where the shiv sliced it open. Stitching up the cut on his right arm and gash on his chest would take a while. He might even be late for work. His mood soured. Then, amidst his sulking, he halted upon seeing unexpected notification screens.

[You have defeated a mortal human (Earth).]

[Experience +1]

[You have defeated a mortal human (Earth).]

[Experience +1]

[You have defeated a mortal human (Earth).]

[Experience +1]

Dumbfounded, Sigmarus stared at the notifications. However, the cold feeling of bleeding through his chest forced him to focus on entering his apartment in order to quickly apply some first-aid. Despite the urgency, he couldn’t help feeling a little confused. The man who made the apparatus had told him that he needed to kill people to level up.

Did that guy lie to me?