Chad ran a discerning eye over Ol' Bessie, expecting the worst. His motorcycle's front light was completely busted and the wheel guard had dented considerably. Her previously pristine chrome finish now showed little dimples of corrosion beneath the gunk and debris caked onto it. The front tire treads had also degraded far more than they should have, considering he'd just changed them. But otherwise? Ol' Bessie looked somehow ok. Apparently, she was far more durable than he'd given her credit for.

Chad let out his held breath in a long sigh of relief. I wonder… What if…

Reaching underneath, Chad gripped the dented wheel guard and tried to bend it back into place. It was a bit of an awkward position, meaning he couldn't get quite enough leverage to use more than his fingers. The metal didn't budge.

Hmm. Ok. Let's try something different. Chad popped into his status menu.

Stat +1 STR will be applied to the following:

Right Arm

Please confirm your selection.

After confirming, he tried again. With a bit of effort, the metal began to slowly give and bend.

That's more like it. The revelation brought a grin to his face. Now a little more…

The next point of strength had an even more dramatic effect. Bending the metal back into place felt like peeling open a can of tuna. In fact, Chad found he had to be a little careful not to grip too hard. Otherwise, he left small indentations from his fingers in the wheel guard's surface.

…Ok, one more. Just for fun.

Grin widening, he added the last point to his arm's strength. The limb swelled to a completely comical size. At this point, it was well over three times the size of his left, to the point where it threatened to rip through his leather jacket's sleeve entirely. With a bit of effort, he tugged the sleeve off and let it hang limp by his side.

Perfect. Chad flexed the limb, admiring the rock-hard protrusions of muscle and sinew rippling across its surface. Between this and my new skill? Anything that comes my way is gonna have to watch out. I'm sure I could've taken the Alli Cat down in one punch like this.

Settling onto his bike, Chad tapped the kickstand with his boot and waved to the hockey team one last time. Then, he sped off toward the center of the city.

***

The encounter with the Alli Cat had been helpful in a number of ways. Most importantly, it stressed the need for Chad to get stronger.

The closer I get to the center, the stronger things are gonna be. And if I want to have a shot of actually surviving, that means I need to get stronger too. His grip tightened on the bike's handlebars. Especially if I want to actually protect people.

That meant seeking out fights wherever he could. Fights with stronger opponents, if possible. He was in a rush, but he'd be no help to anyone if he just died on the way. The Alli Cat had made it clear that he actually could damage high-level monsters on his own, but he needed practice handling them.

That was no surprise. Arm wrestling involved a lot of technique, after all, and he hadn't become the best through brute force alone. He just needed to add fighting technique to his repertoire. And there was no better time to start training than the present.

That didn't mean he ignored the ever-increasing groups of weaker monsters he came across, of course. Chad took advantage of the opportunity to punch, slap, and run over anything else that came across his path.

He pulled out the ax a few times to test it out, but didn't quite like it. While the weapon did allow him to hack and slash through enemies, it didn't really extend his range that much. Not to mention that there was something so satisfying about fighting bare-handed. Besides, considering his Arm-ed Combat trait, it seemed like getting better at punching things into oblivion would actually benefit him more in the long run. Especially as he sunk more strength into his arm.

A toothy maw leaped toward him only to be met by a meaty fist. Less agile foes - ones that didn't have "acid" in the name or look like piles of noxious goo - splattered underneath his front wheel as they feasted on corpses of other monsters or fled down the street. A few more insect-like things met similar ends as splattered messes as he traveled.

By the time Chad made it into the city proper, his entire front was caked in goo and guts. But it was worth it.

You have displayed intermediate knowledge of how to hit things the old-fashioned way - without any of those prissy "weapons". Fistfighting (D) proficiency earned!

You have reached Level 4!

Rewards:

+3 Stat points

Chad grinned at the notification despite himself. He didn't feel like he should have any reason to celebrate like this when the world was ending. But this really was a dream come true.

Giddily, he stuck all three points into his right arm's strength again. He felt his arm grow even larger as it swelled with heat and power. Underneath though, he also felt a different sensation. A slight twinge across his neck and back, as though he'd pulled a muscle.

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It had started when he put that last point of strength into his arm back with the hockey team, but now? The feeling intensified into a dull throbbing pain. Persistent and noticeable, but not enough to be too distracting. He'd dealt with worse.

Chad did his best to ignore the feeling, stretching a bit to alleviate the worst of it. That brings me up to… he checked his stats briefly and whistled in appreciation. 59 strength in my arm?! Already? Dang!

He really had no frame of reference for what the number meant. But it was big, really big, and surely that was a good sign. Besides, the effects were pretty obvious. Already the monsters he struck tended to explode into a gory mist rather than crumple or splatter like he'd become used to. The effect was almost comical, like he was some sort of cartoon superhero. He even had to be careful not to grip the handlebars too hard on accident, lest he bend them completely out of shape. The brake handle had already deformed a little bit after a fallen traffic light had made him squeeze it reflexively.

Returning his attention to the road, Chad glanced around, ready to lash out with his arm. Steering a bike like this wasn't ideal, especially in a dangerous environment, but it couldn't be helped. At least he was able to deal with threats quickly and without too much trouble. Otherwise, he would have certainly crashed a long time ago.

Speeding through the mostly deserted streets, the signs of conflict became even more clear. Piles of dead monsters began to climb ever higher, though he noticed that many of them tended to localize around building entrances. Either people were using them as makeshift barricades, or they were the results of battling the things as they attempted to get inside. Either way, he couldn't help but feel a bit of relief at the general lack of human corpses.

He kept an ear out for the sounds of conflict as he moved, seeking it out now. It led him towards a few other groups of patrolling vigilantes sprinkled throughout the city. Most of them matched the hockey players at level three or four, with some scattered level twos or fives among them. He made it a point to briefly exchange information and advice with any that he came across. Who knew what other things they'd seen in the last few hours?

But after each encounter, Chad left them behind and continued onward. He had a hotel to find. Occasional references to Annie's phone navigation helped him to keep on the right track, even with all of the detours. The fact that he still had service even now felt like a small miracle in and of itself.

"You'll want to talk to the people at the barricade if you're going that way." A Head Chef (Lvl 4) bearing a shotgun and a bandolier of knives explained. The fresh corpse of something called a Geckgoose lay across the road, its side filled with stab wounds and its head missing a significant chunk of material. "They've got a perimeter around the whole place to keep the monsters in, fat lot of good that's doing. Dunno if they care about keeping people out though."

Huh. Guess that's another reason the area isn't swarmed. "Who's 'they'?"

The chef shrugged. "A little bit of everyone, from what I hear. They've got military, police, gun nuts, all those people over there. The battle addicts and adrenaline junkies, too. The kind of people who run toward danger instead of away from it like a sane person would do."

"Aren't you out here fighting too?" He raised an eyebrow at the man's apparent hypocrisy. "Why haven't you run away yet?"

The guy gave an exasperated huff. "What, and leave these things to terrorize my restaurant? I just finished renovating the place, and I am not letting some damn demon buzzard ruin it. Do you know how much it costs to fix a window in this town? And how long it took to get anyone to redo the floors? If anything happens now, I'm sure I'll be on some kinda long-ass waiting list with the rest of the city, too, you mark my words…"

"Uh-huh." Chad glanced around at the Line Chefs and Waiters that stood nearby, also armed with an array of kitchen implements and other impromptu weapons. "What about you guys?"

"I live downtown, anyway. No way I'm going back there."

"Same."

"I'm kinda broke, so at least there's food here."

The reactions made Chad shake his head in disbelief. He couldn't exactly fault them, but still. Apparently not everyone was as preoccupied with fleeing as he'd expected. That, or he'd simply underestimated just how resilient people around here were. "Suit yourselves. Thanks for the info."

"Wait," the chef stopped him before he hopped back on his bike. "Take a pizza. On the house for helping us out with whatever that lizard thing was."

Chad nearly refused, but his stomach betrayed him. The chef smiled at the loud gurgling noise that emanated forth. "See? Even if you're in a hurry, it's no good fighting on an empty stomach. Come inside, stay a minute. Those blue boxes say that my food even gives you a stat boost, too…"

***

After putting down two entire pizzas with surprising efficiency - and listening to the chef pridefully show off his renovated and intact restaurant - Chad exited the hole-in-the-wall pizzeria and hopped back on his bike. There was only so much daylight left to reach his destination. As he settled onto the leather seat once more, he felt the telltale buzz of a phone in his pocket. With a small amount of trepidation, he retrieved the pink and purple case from his jeans.

Hey, it's Annie. Borrowed a neighbor's phone to text. Are you still holding up?

No bad news yet. With a quick swipe of his thumb, he typed out a response. At least, he attempted to. The finger was significantly larger than it had been only a few hours ago, not to mention that Annie's phone was significantly slimmer than he was used to. After a bit of frustration, he eventually switched to laboriously pecking at keys with his left digits.

Chad: Yup. You?

Annie: All good. Nothing's shown up yet.

Chad relaxed a little at the message. It still didn't sit right to leave his grandma and Annie behind, but what choice did he have? It was safer than bringing them to the heart of the problem. Especially when he didn't feel confident in protecting them yet. As soon as he returned though, he'd make sure they were taken care of.

Chad: Ok. Let me know. How's your bro?

Annie: I just texted him. He's ok. He doesn't know what's going on outside though. Apparently they're stuck in the hotel.

Chad: Ok. I'm close now. Be there soon.

Annie: Be careful.

He slipped the phone back into his jeans. Gram Gram and Annie being safe was a major weight off his shoulders. It meant he could focus more completely on the here and now. It also suggested that these things were either staying in the city or would take a lot longer to reach the country than he'd dared to hope. Either way, it was great news.

That means I might be able to beat the monsters home. Even if I don't though… Chad allowed himself a small smile. They'll have to make it through the rest of the town first. And I can guarantee that small-town country folk are even more stubborn than people around here.

The fact that Annie's brother was alive, if stuck, also boded well. It meant that the hotel wasn't actively under threat. Hopefully the situation stayed that way. If so, then it would mean Chad had a bit more breathing room to work with.

"HELP! SOMEONE HELP!"

…Breathing room he evidently needed.