Lance thought. He was dead on his feet, and Sophie wasn't much better. What did they have left to fight with? An empty pistol against an army? No way in hell—even if he managed to take down every single person here—they would just keep coming. Even then, it wouldn't be enough. They needed help, and soon. Otherwise, they would die alone in the darkness—or worse, become a monster themselves—and those things out there were going to tear them apart for what they saw as food.

There were a lot of thoughts swirling around inside his head, but only one thing really mattered: survive this ordeal alive. There were too many options that didn't work well together for him to be confident about how either choice could end up turning out.

Hold on. He had managed to survive earlier by accessing the System. Could he do it again?

He focused on the System, on the skill points.

[Acquire random skill or boost existing skill?]

he thought. Mindread was on cooldown, and his gun was almost empty. The only option left was Mind Attack—the ability he got from his last level-up, and that was influenced by Perception. "Speed" and "Stealth" wouldn't help against bullets, so at least maybe he'd get some use out of his newfound skill.

A single point of P appeared in his mind like a red star burning brightly—it wasn't much compared to Sophie's apparently far greater well of power, but it would be enough to give him the edge if he used it right. It didn't feel very different than before, which worried him since this should be something brand new to him now. He pushed it into his mind anyway; it felt like nothing more than an extra push to himself as he tried to run toward the man with the gun first.

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Lance activated his ability, reaching out and finding six vulnerable minds. He could see the men behind them looking back towards him with fear or confusion or anger on their faces, but they were too caught up in whatever madness had gripped them to notice Lance approaching them.

His will flowed through the connection between them and his own brain, connecting with the weakest one of these six: a short, fat businessman. The others only looked on in shock at what was happening around them. All of them would kill him in a matter of minutes if this continued, so all that mattered was getting in that first attack while they still stood there in disbelief.

Lance sent a wave of energy down the connection he shared with the fat guy's mind. Lance reached into that mind like it belonged to his worst enemy and twisted it. This wasn't supposed to be about killing people; he didn't want anyone to die here tonight, but if the alternative meant Lance and Sophie's deaths too, then so be it.

A sudden surge of pain hit him from out of nowhere, making his entire head throb and his vision go blurry and white as his focus shattered and broke apart. There was a strange buzzing sensation like something was stuck inside his mind—like someone had shoved a piece of metal or stone deep inside an oyster shell until it grew hard enough to crack open his skull just by touching it with their tongue. A single thought filled his mind:

Then the man in front of him fell backwards onto the ground, eyes staring up at nothing with blank stares while blood poured from both sides of his mouth and nose like he had been punched in the face over and over again with invisible fists. His body went limp, the gun falling away from his grasp before tumbling across the floor several feet behind him. Lance took a step back, rubbing his temples and feeling dizzy.

[Enemy defeated!]

[Enemy defeated!]

It wasn't just the fat man that he'd connected with. In the process, the gunman had come into the line of fire as well, and now he was dead.