After collecting the crystals Mike still hadn't leveled up. By his count he'd taken out twelve of them.

He'd lost five crystals to accidents and Yunah's growth. Meaning he'd only used seven on himself. Getting to level two took four crystals. He'd been too optimistic hoping level three would only take three more.

If he had to guess he'd say every level took three times the "experience" of the one before it. It was too early to know if he was right. Two levels was hardly a pattern to extrapolate from.

Together Mike and Yunah made their way back to the room to fill Troy in on everything. They had a decision to make.

Did they go door to door?

Or take the stairs?

Door to door meant possibly gaining companions. But they wouldn't be the bravest and the best. They'd be the guys who hid while everyone else was fighting.

The stairs, on the other hand, presented their own problems.

Mainly noise.

Mike wasn't sure he could hold off thirty zombies in an enclosed space as they retreated up or down dragging an unconscious Sara with them. But the potential for exactly that scenario was built into risking the stairwell.

They had bologna sandwiches and kiddy juice boxes - from the random junk in the apartment fridge - as they discussed all the angles. It didn't take long to realize they were talking in circles.

No one was really ready for the stairs - not even Mike. He was even less ready when he considered they were planning on going up to the roof before going down.

Troy thought getting a better look at the city before they tried to head out into it was worth the effort. Yunah had seemed to agree and he hadn't been able to come up with a reason why they were wrong.

This time Yunah elected to stay behind as Mike took Troy through the rooms.

Troy was a well know and likable guy. Maybe not the most popular guy on campus, but he was at least someone most people said hi to in passing. Even loner Mike had regularly given him the head nod of "Yeah I see you. I just don't know you well enough to be comfortable talking to you. So I'm acknowledging you without speaking. It's better this way."

Along the way they would both try to level up to increase their strength for the trial of the echoing stairwell.

Yunah reluctantly lent Mike her sword. They didn't anticipate her needing it by Sara's bedside. So as not to leave her defenseless, Mike left her his bat. Troy grumbled about it until Mike pointed out they could search the apartments along the way for new weapons. Yunah was stuck with what they left her.

Never having taken any sort of sword based martial art, Mike used the sword like a two handed machete, cleaving and chopping with brute strength. The razor-fine edge seemed perfectly capable of holding up to his abuse, suggesting the blade wasn't made of steel. At least not traditional steel - which would have rolled over along the edge.

After the third room with no survivors they took a break. Mike had killed another five zombies, netting him two more crystals but still no level up.

Troy had reached level two. In doing so he found he was able to increase the distance from his hand he could control his fire magic, giving him hope for the future of his skill. Eventually it would be useful for more than back rubs and starting campfires.

While Mike took his breather Troy checked the closests. He'd found a nice pitching wedge in an earlier apartment but he wasn't satisfied with it. He wanted something with an edge or a point he claimed.

Mike just rolled his eyes.

It was obvious Troy didn't like fighting Zombies up close. Every swing he made he was forcing himself not to scream. It wasn't that he was a coward. He wasn't. Troy just seemed to have some sort of problem with physically damaging people. Even dead ones.

The snapping sound of broken bones made him cringe. The sight of blood and brain matter turned his stomach. And perhaps his greatest drawback - he lacked the strength to end things in one blow, like Mike.

Privately Mike wondered if the system hadn't know all that and given him his "random" reward of magic accordingly. He wasn't sure how he felt about that possibility. Was random benevolence preferred in a system that actively attempted to kill its users?

Someone else would have to answer that. Mike couldn't.

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Troy came up empty on his search. He'd found a folding pocket knife and hammer. Both were decent weapons in a pinch. Neither gave him the reach or the force of his golf club.

Mike took the hammer and slipped it through his belt to replace his carving knife. Troy pocketed the knife.

At the door of the next apartment they heard a voice even before they started knocking. Sharing a look they changed places. Mike moving back and to the side so that he wasn't the first face they saw.

"Hello," Troy said with a smile as the door cracked open. "You guys okay in there?"

"Do you know what's happening? The internet is down and the radio is static. Neither one of us ever brought in a TV."

The voice on the other side of the door was clearly in some kind of shock. They hadn't handled the zombies well at all. Troy talked them off the ledge and before long Mike found himself standing in another identical living room watching as Troy explained things to the guys of room 413.

Hector and Rajesh were numbers geeks. The kind of guys who liked to work up accurate floor plans for fictional star ships because they actually liked applying math.

Average height, average build, dusky skinned and socially anxious the two of them could have been brothers for all that Hector was from Portales, New Mexico and Rajesh from Mumbai, India.

Between Troy's glowing red hands, Mike's transformation, and a quick display of Yunah's sword's unimaginable sharpness, the guys were willing to believe in the possibility of the system. Troy even convinced them to grab a weapon and follow him so they could get to level one.

Two empty apartments later they found another couple of zombies.

Mike took them out.

Hector and Rajesh both hesitantly picked through the brains to find their crystals. A brief panic over their temporary blindness later they were receiving their system rewards.

Hector gained a small booklet Troy recognized as a skillbook and Rajesh found himself the proud new owner of a war hammer.

Hector looked confused. He stared at the booklet floating in the air for several seconds before Rajesh nudged him and asked why he was spacing out.

"My reward says it is an occupation," he said as if that explained things.

"Like a class?" Troy asked but none of them needed the answer. Simultaneously they experienced a pulsing feeling between their eyebrows.

The answer had been supplied for them.

An occupation was a job skill. Like being a teacher or a construction worker. It had nothing to do with player classes which dictated the combat skills and items they would have access to in the future.

"What's your job then?" Rajesh asked to fill in the silence.

"I'm a farmer."

No one knew what to say. Mike did wonder again about the system's supposed randomness.  Could it have determining poor Hector wasn't fit for fighting? It didn't matter really.

A farmer was as much help as anyone against level one zombies. Hector was dispirited by the reward anyway.

Troy tried to tell him it was random but maybe he'd already begun to suspect the same thing as Mike because it rang hollow.

They sent him to keep Yunah company while he worked things out in his mind. Then they moved on.

The next few rooms held one or two zombies each and Rajesh quickly leveled up. Shortly after Mike managed to get himself to level three. They took another short break for him to distributd his AP into quickness and spirit.

Name: Mike Tanner - Race: Human (Orc)

Occupation: None - Level: 3

STR: 1.4 / QUI: 1.2 / BOD: 1.4 / MIN: 1.1 / SPI: 1.2 [AP: 0.0]

Purse: 1130 Credits

Skills: [Brute Strength] [Sturdy] [Dark Vision] [Slow Witted]

From there it all began to run together.

Mike was no longer personally killing every single zombie. Yhe others tried their hand at it to get the feel. Here and there they gathered survivors and leveled them into the system.

Slowly they worked their way around until they cleared the last room on the fourth floor, of a fairly cute zombie with green eyes and blood smeared lips from when she'd devoured her roommate.

Why some zombies ate their roommates and others turned them nobody was quite sure.

Altogether there were eleven survivors. Eight of them leveled into the system. Two waiting on a zombie to kill. And Sara who needed a health potion or recovery magic before anything else.

It was still early in the afternoon when they finished. To keep hunting they would have to go up or down. Mike was already beginning to feel impatient about getting out of the city to find his family, but he'd come around to Troy's point of view about checking the roof first.

Troy could be persuasive. Part of that was because he would talk every time he got a chance. The rest was all charisma. Mike envied him that.

With everyone gathered into a big circle in the living room of the first apartment Troy was giving a speech. Mike had long since realized Troy was taking the excuse of being everyone's first contact as justification to make himself into some sort of group leader. He didn't really care. His goals hadn't changed. He didn't need to be in charge as long as he could find and protect his family.

Besides his position as "field team leader" was stil unchallanged.

Troy wouldn't want anyone to realize he didn't like fighting. It might be seen as a weakness.

From some angles Troy being in charge of the group and him leading the field team was actually better than being in overall command. Troy would have to have to deal with all the petty day to day bullshit while he kept control of his team. All the power he wanted with none of the headaches.

There were potential problems. Being "hired help" from the group's perspective, he might face being "fired" at some point in the future. As long as he took safeguards to make sure his team was loyal to him personally, it wouldn't matter.

As Troy wrapped up his call to action about heading to the roof - among other things - everyone was nodding along, clearly sold.

Standing alone in the doorway of the empty bedroom Mike smirked as he looked over the crowd catching Yunah's eye. She looked annoyed at the delays. Her best friend was possibly dying and Troy was holding a rally. Consciously or not her thumb was gently caressing the golden pommel of her sword.

She'll do nicely as loyal team member number one, he thought to himself with a laugh.