Hot blood seeped through the chitin cracks, soaking the synthetic fabric of Allisson's tactical glove and dripping onto the floor in a steady rhythm. The mechanical agony in his left forearm throbbed like white-hot iron with every beat of his heart.
Allisson pressed his right hand hard against the wound, his eyes locked on the corridor corner where the flickering lights cast elongated shadows. The noise of the second wave wasn't made of just three targets; the structural vibration in the walls signaled at least seven to ten specimens converging rapidly on the trail of fresh blood.
Probability of survival in direct melee combat in the corridor: 20% to 30%.
With his left arm mobility compromised by 40% and Paulo's Mana reserves depleted, prolonged attrition would shatter their frontline. Allisson triggered his mental interface. The translucent pane floated in his peripheral vision, displaying the 2 pending stat points earned at Level 5.
If I dump everything into Strength, I increase the Twin-Blade Spear's penetration for rapid kills. If I allocate to Constitution, I force accelerated blood clotting and suppress muscular pain thresholds.
Before his thought could seal the choice, the metallic click of a retracted latch echoed right behind him.
The solid wood door was pulled inward with a sudden yank. Pierre appeared in the gap, his face pale and slick with cold sweat, his eyes wide with shock.
"Get in! Now!" Pierre's voice came out in a choked whisper.
Allisson closed the interface without distributing the points. With a brutal, unceremonious motion, he hooked his fingers into the collar of Jade's blouse, yanked her off the floor, and dragged her inside the room. Paulo and Abner fell back in tactical order, crossing the threshold immediately after.
Allisson entered last. Paulo shoved the heavy wooden door shut with his shoulder and flipped the internal iron deadbolt, engaging the double lock. Five seconds later, a heavy carcass slammed against the outside, making the entire structure groan.
BAM!
The door held firm. The group was inside the Faculty Lounge.
The room smelled of stale brewed coffee, printed paper, and the metallic stench of accumulated sweat. The air conditioning was off, and the scant light filtered through semi-closed blinds facing the school's interior courtyard.
Yet the space wasn't empty. And Allisson instantly understood the reason for Pierre's delay.
Huddled in the opposite corner of the room near the conference table were three survivors.
The first was Jarbas, the physical education teacher—a man weighing nearly two hundred pounds, broad-shouldered, with a rigid posture and a lifelong habit of imposing authority through vocal volume and physical presence. Next to him, cowering in an office chair, sat João Felipe, a high school student notorious for a history of disciplinary issues and an aristocratic demeanor, wearing a designer jacket and flashing heavy silver chains around his neck. Finally, positioned subtly behind Jarbas, stood Clara, a student with a serene expression, sharp eyes, and a calculated posture that masked her unique ability to manipulate social dynamics around her.
Allisson's mind mapped the new variables in fractions of a second.
The obstacle has changed its nature, Allisson analyzed, his expression remaining glacial. It's no longer just the System's fauna; it's the human factor.
"What do you think you're doing?!" João Felipe snapped, springing out of the chair with a shove. He gestured erratically, his face flushed red with rage and panic. "You dragged all that filth right to our door! We were safe here until—"
The boy opened his mouth to raise his voice in a hysterical tirade.
Allisson didn't waste a single word.
Moving with fast, heavy strides, the teacher crossed the distance before João Felipe could finish his sentence. Using his clean right hand, Allisson seized the student's jaw with crushing force, sealing his mouth and slamming his head hard against the partition wall.
"Shut your mouth," Allisson whispered, his voice as cold as tempered steel, his eyes locked onto the boy's.
Outside the door, the sound of claws scraping against the wood and heavy snorts resonated. The main pack swept straight past the corridor, drawn by the blood scent of the three dead hounds, but two muffled growls lingered right outside the jamb for twenty long, agonizing seconds.
João Felipe thrashed initially, trying to shove Allisson's arm away, but the gap in attribute stats was an absolute abyss. The boy froze, paralyzed by the teacher's stare and the sound of the monsters pacing inches away.
Only when the echo of paws faded down the corridor, signaling the creatures had moved toward the lobby, did Allisson release João Felipe's face.
The boy stepped back twice, massaging his chin where the teacher's fingers had left deep marks. His silver jewelry clinked as he caught his breath, humiliation overriding his immediate terror. He looked to Jarbas for backup, but the PE teacher kept his teeth clenched, eyeing Allisson's rigid posture and the bloodstained spear in his hand.
"You freak..." João Felipe spat out the words, his tone heavy with indignation and arrogance as he pointed a trembling finger at Allisson and Paulo. "You almost got us killed! This whole building being full of monsters is your fault for making all that noise down the hall! We were protected here until you showed up!"
Paulo stepped forward, tightening his grip on the iron bar smeared with hound matter, his eyes burning with fury.
The tension inside the Faculty Lounge hit its absolute breaking point.