(A/N: I’m getting into the habit of making those note it seem… Anyway, I wanted to warn you guys, that although I wasn’t able to put it among the tags seeing as RRL let you only choose 3 among those, that this story actually have a lot of ‘dark’ comedy in it later on, well it depend on your conception of comedy I guess, but like you can expect from something I wrote, it’s pretty fucked up… What? No it have nothing to do with that chapter I think, or does it? That said, enjoy the chapter.)

Chapter 05 - This Would Be Easier If I Had a Cardboard Box.

2 Hours had gone by since Asmund left the staircase where he saw the level 1 Death-Hounds drag bodies downstairs. Since then he wandered around the second floor, taking his time to search for another staircase while hunting Death-Hounds which were alone, resulting in him successfully hunting 5 Death-Hounds: 3x level 2, a level 3, and a level 4; making him level up twice. Also, absorbing their blood essence and that of some weak human corpses gave him an additional point in Power and Constitution.

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[ Name: Asmund Dreyri | Race: Human | Level: 5 ]

[ Class: Blood Overlord ]

[ Power: 10 ]

[ Agility: 12 ]

[ Constitution: 11 ]

[ Mind: 11 ]

[ Spirit: 13 ]

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[ Skills ]

[ Heart Of Magic Blood ][ Level 1 ][ Passive ]

[ Blood Manipulation ][ Level 1 ][ Active ]

[ Blood Siphon ][ Level 1 ][ Active ]

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[ Credits: 69 ]

[ System’s Shop -> ]

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Looking at his current ‘status screen’, Asmund was satisfied to see that he finally reached a point where he had average, or even slightly higher, stats. At least, that's what he assumes as the average anyway. Especially his constitution, which turned his body into a reasonably healthy one.

Apart from the fact that his body was strengthened, another great change happened to Asmund: he discovered that he had great talent when it comes to fighting, giving him a boost of confidence. That’s right, although Asmund never fought anyone, especially to the death, before all this happened, his learning speed was astounding. Although he was clumsy at the start, by accumulating some fighting experience for not even a day his moves were like flowing water, his strikes precise, and his instincts extremely keen.

Of course his fighting prowess was still nowhere near someone who had trained dedicatedly for years, but nevertheless the speed at which he was improving was mind blowing.

On another note, while walking around Asmund took notice of some others level 1 Death-Hounds on the second floor, and the weird thing is that they all were acting in exactly the same way as the first ones he saw. All in groups with a of minimum 2 and up to 4, the level 1 Death-Hounds were slowly cleaning up the second floor of all its corpses.

The dangerous thing, though, is that the second floor is getting more and more of those ‘cleaners’, making Asmund's search even slower than before. He did find another staircase while searching the second floor for this long, but this one was even worse of than the first one. The flow of level 1 Death-Hounds walking up and down it was almost constant, and there was even a level 5 Death-Hound patrolling near it.

The level 5 Death-Hound, apart from the fact that it was even bigger than a level 4, also had the peculiarity of having a single horn growing out of its forehead. It looked quite intimidating and much more ferocious than the rest of the Death-Hounds…

Now I’m really in a bind… I could continue to hunt on this floor, but the amount of ‘cleaners’ is getting bigger and bigger while the Death-Hounds who are hunting alone are getting rarer, and I’m really starting to get hungry too. But how should I go down? The last staircase I found is an absolute no go. So should I just take the risk of going down the first one I found? Argggg! I’m getting the urge to just kill everything on my path!

Asmund was never someone that could be described as ‘calm minded’ but more as someone easily angered, it was already true while he was kept inside his cage of glass and now that he’s free and healthy it’s even more true. So when things really don’t go as he likes and there are monsters or people who keep getting in his way, his rage is close to exploding like a dormant volcano waking up from centuries of hibernation.

That said, his safety was more important than releasing his rage on something, so in the end he didn’t rush into a mass of monsters and instead decided to try something else. It was a stupid idea, and not necessarily the safest way to go down, but at the moment it was the fastest he could think of to avoid the annoying mobs.

This solution was…... The laundry chutes!

He thought about this ridiculous way to go down when he came across one of those during his search. He was reluctant to use it until now because the danger was unknown, actually it could lead him to a worse situation than if he simply tried to go down the first stairs he found, but it was already too late to go back there. Among the numerous level 1 Death-Hounds he saw cleaning up corpses on the second floor, he saw that a good part of them were moving in direction of those very same stairs, meaning than it should now have a flow of Death-Hounds almost equal to the second staircase.

I should stop thinking about it too much, it’s not like I have any other choice left either way. Alright, let’s do this!

Walking to the closest laundry chute he could remember seeing, and making sure that no Death-Hound was around, he turned the long blood sword he was using for his fights into blood leg armor covering them up to his knees, hoping that it would reduce as much impact as possible in the case that there is nothing to cushion his fall down the shaft, if he slips. That done, he opened the laundry chutes’ lid and slowly slipped his thin body through the narrow opening, thankful for the slight ledge at the joining of two sections of the shaft that he could gradually ease his weight onto.

Once fully inside the shaft, Asmund took a look both above and below himself to see if this kind of ledge was a one-off or something he could use all the way down. He was happy to notice that they occur at the join of every section, about 50cm apart, though they're only a few millimeters wide and he could only safely rest on them by reshaping his blood armour to fit around his boots for extra stability.

He closed the hatch to the chute, just in case any Death-Hound was curious or they possessed more intelligence than he gave them credit for, especially the level 5’s, and remembered this hatch being closed in an earlier patrol, but wasn't plunged into darkness as two hatches further up were already open and the walls of the shaft were quite reflective.

Using his newfound strength, agility, and stamina, Asmund carefully made his way down the shaft as quietly as possible, using his arms and legs to push his back against a wall and hold his position while moving one limb at a time. He'd already spent 2 hours searching for a usable staircase, what was a few more minutes in the shaft to ensure he didn't fall to his death or attract the attention of the hospital's new owners?

Reaching the first floor’s hatch, he placed his ear against it before gently pushing it open to check that nothing dangerous was nearby, and after checking his left and right three times, crawled out of the shaft.

I don’t hear that many monsters around… Yet I could hear a lot of them down the stairs. Are they further down in the basement? There’s also no human corpses left on the floor, only trails of blood. If the cleaners have really finished their job on this floor and aren't going around this floor anymore, it would make things much easier for me. Let’s hope I’m right.

Staying on his guard, Asmund quickly returned his blood leg armor into a long sword, which happened to be the weapon he’s the most comfortable with out of all the ones he tried after some trial and errors. The long sword goes well with his favorite fighting style, which simply consists on going all out on an enemy and overpowering them. If not for the fact he still doesn’t have enough strength to wield it, he would without a doubt make the long sword into a human sized one, that simply the weight of which could crush his preys.

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There is nothing more satisfying than transforming a prey into a disgusting piece of meat after all!

Trying not to let his mind wander into his darkest of thoughts, Asmund refocused on his current objective which was to reach the cafeteria and take care of his hunger.

Moving in a random direction along the wall, he took his time to check out the Death-Hounds' positions through his hearing and walked slowly while searching for a map of the hospital or any sign of the cafeteria.

There’s a Death-Hound near!

Stopping in his tracks as soon as he heard the sound of close footsteps, Asmund crouched on the floor and put his ear directly on it.

… It’s alone… Not really that loud either, it’s probably a level 2!

Happy with the prospect of a weak prey coming his way, Asmund positioned himself at the corner of the hallway and waited for the Death-Hound to show up.

1… 2… 3!

Jumping out of his hiding place, Asmund slashed at the monster before it could react, but as he was going to behead it he immediately stopped his swing right at its neck… As what he was currently attacking wasn’t a Death-Hound but a human.

The middle aged man who looked in his late 40’s and wearing a lab coat was so shocked by Asmund's surprise attack that he couldn’t even make a sound in surprise and actually pissed his pants.

Far from being happy to see a fellow survivor, Asmund was actually quite annoyed at the moment as he thought that he was going to enjoy a good hunt, yet found out that this monster was nothing but a weakling not worth shit. And a gross one at that…

Couldn’t it at least be a woman?

Unlike Asmund, the middle aged man was quite happy to see another living human, past his shock of the attack and the weird fellow’s eyes.

“T-Thank god! I thought that I was the only one left alive!” -Old man

“Ahhh… Yeah… Sure…” -Asmund

Not really sure how to answer to the old man’s hype, Asmund just gave some awkward words while grimacing.

“Boy, are you alone?! Is there anyone left?! Do you know of a safe place?!” -Old man

Seeing hope in the young man before him, the old man grabbed Asmund’s shoulders and kept throwing questions at him without even leaving him enough time to answer.

Not again…

Frankly, Asmund's mood turned so sour at this that he almost cut the man into pieces, but he restrained himself as he noticed that he could use him.

“Please calm down Sir, I do know a safe place and was going there when I suddenly heard something approaching, which happened to be you.” -Asmund

Hearing Asmund out, the man almost literally jumped in joy, a huge grin now on his face.

“R-Really?! Where is it?!” -Old man

“It’s the cafeteria, when all this mess started I received a call from a friend who told me that he barricaded himself inside the cafeteria with others. I hid myself for some hours while waiting for the storm to calm down a little and finally decided to go take a look at it.” -Asmund

Listening to his story, the man in a lab coat frowned, as if he found something suspicious in it.

“Did you receive any news from your ‘friend’ since then?” -Old man

“No Sir, the line turned out of service soon after that call and I also lost my phone while running away from a monster just some minutes ago…” -Asmund

The man pondered for a while, and finally pointed at the long blood sword.

“What is this by the way? You looked quite adept at handling this ‘sword’, and I can’t tell which material was used to make it…” -Old man

Will you stop interrogating me already you retard?! I so want to stab his ugly muggg!

“*Cough* I found it near a corpse, I’m not really sure what is it either… As for how I’m able to handle it this well, it’s because I practice some martial arts. But never mind that, I’m kinda lost so I won’t ask you to follow me if you don’t want to, but can you at least point out to me where the cafeteria is?” -Asmund

…

“Eh? Ah yes, my apologies! It’s a bad habit of mine to question people like that… As for the cafeteria, it’s near the entrance, a 5 minute walk down this hallway.” -Old man

Saying that, the old man pointed to the hallway opposite to the one he was coming from, and left to the one Asmund arrived from. Now knowing where to go, Asmund was going to move away from here but the old man continued to talk before he could.

“I’ll go there with you, even if I’m ashamed to admit it I’d feel much safer by accompanying you than staying alone.” -Old man

Without either accepting or refusing him Asmund started to walk, soon followed by the old man who probably took his silence as an approval.

As they were proceeding forward in silence while being careful of their surroundings, Asmund was surprisingly the one to break the silence.

“Sir… Do you mind if I ask you something else?” -Asmund

“Hmm? Sure…” -Old Man

“It’s only out of curiosity, but can you tell me your stats? I want something to compare to.” -Asmund

“Oh… Well, why not I guess? Let’s see… My ‘Power’ is 6, my ‘Agility’ 7, my ‘Constitution’ 7 too, my ‘Mind’ is 10 and as for my ‘Spirit’ it’s 3. But I’m quite an average guy, if I were you I wouldn’t use those as a reference. What about yours?” -Old man

So it looks like everyone ‘does’ have a status screen! I forgot to verify that point when I met Olga, so it’s good to know. As for the stats… They’re surprisingly lower than the average I had in mind. I was sure it was ‘10’, but looking at the old man he seems somewhat fit and healthy, so I can say without a problem that he’s either among the average or slightly higher. Well, unless he lied to me, but why would he do that?

“Boy? Did you hear me? Ugh…!” -Old man

As both Asmund and the Old man stopped walking, a trace of blood flowed out of the Old man’s mouth while his face was in utter dismay, unable to understand why the young man he was just talking to and didn’t threaten in any way had suddenly stabbed his chest with the long sword before he could even react.

“W-Why…?” -Old man

“Because I wanted to verify that you said the truth, because you were annoying, and because you’re a useless dead weight.” -Asmund

Saying that in matter-of-fact manner, Asmund took his sword out of the Old man’s chest and swung it to clean it of the blood covering its blade, although it sounded quite funny that he was cleaning a sword made out of blood from the blood covering it.

Completely ignoring the Old man whose eyes were slowly losing their light, Asmund moved away in the direction of the now nearby cafeteria.

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