David blinked, rubbed the bridge of his nose, and looked at his fingers again. The bandages on David’s hands were soaked with sweat and stained with blood, restricting his movements, but he had no other choice. Every time he tried to focus on the wiring, he had to stop and grab his weapon. This damn job never ended.

  He knew it would take time, but he hadn't realized just how wrong he was in his calculations. The damn “dogs” didn’t give him a single moment of peace. There were more and more of them, and they didn’t just wander aimlessly — they were probing for gaps, breaking through weak spots. The clatter of their claws against the metal partitions and their raspy growls had become his constant background noise.

  He’d already had to fight off several that had made it through the fence. He had reinforced the passages with furniture, locked unnecessary doors, and blocked off corridors — but it wasn’t enough. They always found new ways in. And as long as he was gripping a rifle, he had no time for the damned wiring.

  Every time he returned to work, his eyelids grew heavier. A full day without sleep, but he couldn’t afford the luxury of rest. He checked the panel, trying to ignore the trembling in his hands, and continued connecting the cables. He was close. Damn, he was so damn close.

  David was barely staying on his feet. The wiring was almost finished, but his body demanded rest. Only the constant growl of monsters outside the building kept him from falling asleep.

  Another notification blinked before his eyes:

  [Sleep Resistance 1 → 2]

  He now had level two in that skill. At least something good in this hell.

  He pulled himself together and tried to assess the situation. The monsters were becoming more aggressive. Even if he finished with the reactor, he’d need time to start it — time he didn’t have. With every minute, his chances of survival dropped. He couldn’t fight forever. If he died — it would all start over.

  He was almost sure... that everything would start over again.

  The thought struck him like a bolt of lightning. In the next iteration, he could make it in time! He wasn’t just a regular person with one life anymore. If he boosted his sleep resistance now, he could work faster, longer, more efficiently next time...

  Thinking about the sleep resistance skill, David formed a new plan: reach the basement, barricade himself in, and stay awake as long as possible. The higher his resistance, the better his chances in the next cycle.

  Was it a good idea? David wasn’t sure. His mind was foggy, and his body ached with exhaustion. But doing anything else no longer made sense. He took a deep breath, picked up his weapon, and headed for the basement.

  David staggered through the dark basement like a drunk. His heart pounded in his chest, his hands trembled, and dark spots flickered before his eyes. He tried to focus, but his thoughts were tangled, and his consciousness flickered like a dying lightbulb. Empty energy drink cans crunched underfoot — they were scattered all over the floor. David knew his sleep resistance had improved, but he no longer remembered exactly to what level.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Ominous sounds echoed through the concrete basement walls. Dull thuds, the scraping of claws on the floor, guttural growls — the monsters had broken through the barricade and were now roaming the office in search of prey. Somewhere above, a door cracked and shattered. Another barrier had fallen.

  David clutched his head. His thoughts were a mess. He felt like he was at the limit. He needed to hide, wait, give his body time to rest, but every second his eyelids grew heavier. Just a little more — and he’d fall asleep. And falling asleep meant dying.

  "I need to squeeze everything out of this iteration," he thought.

  He slammed his fist into the wall, but even pain couldn’t drive away the exhaustion. He was angry. At himself. At this world. At the monsters that had flooded his reality. He was so angry he wanted to tear them all to pieces.

  [Ability Unlocked]

  Something flashed before his eyes, but David was too furious to open his status screen. He glanced at his gear: revolver, sawed-off shotgun, hunting rifle. His gaze fell on Kevin’s katana — he had brought it to the office just because Kevin was an anime fan. David smirked.

  “Well then, Kevin,” he muttered, picking up the blade. “Let’s see if it was worth it.”

  He slung the ammo bag over his shoulder and strapped the katana to his belt.

  Gritting his teeth, he gripped the shotgun tight — his knuckles went white. The monsters were waiting upstairs. They thought he was their prey? They were wrong.

  He wasn’t going up as a hunted man. He was going up to kill.

  David headed for the stairs, fists clenched with rage — when suddenly, a loud clang echoed from the elevator shaft. There was the screech of claws against metal, and the doors burst open. A massive dog-like monster crawled out, drooling and glaring.

  David growled:

  “WHO'S A MAN AND A HALF? I'M A MAN AND HALF!”

  The shotgun kicked in his hands. BOOM! A second shot! The huge beast dropped, convulsing in agony.

  “There’s nothing wrong with you I can’t fix… WITH MY BARE HANDS!”

  He grabbed the creature by the horns and snapped its neck. The monster stopped moving.

  He reloaded his weapon and moved on. He reached the fire escape just in time — the barricaded door had given in to the demonic dogs’ assault.

  “DYNAMITE!”

  One of the dogs got too close, and David smashed it with the butt of his gun. The monster’s skull cracked like a dry twig.

  [Level Up]

  “I’m cooking on full blast!”

  Some time later, and more than a dozen dead dogs behind him, the ammo finally ran out. David stopped, his hands shaking from adrenaline. He dropped the shotgun and pulled out the katana.

  He raised the blade and slashed! But… the edge only bounced off the monster’s hide, leaving a pathetic scratch — it wasn’t even sharpened.

  “WHAT?!”

  The dog lunged, knocking the air out of him. David hit the floor, and claws tore into his chest. He made a sound halfway between a growl and a gasp — blood filled his mouth.

  His vision darkened. In the last flicker of consciousness, he heard the growling of more dogs approaching. But driven by adrenaline, he punched the monster in the snout, pushed it off, jumped to his feet, and shouted:

  “Who’s the boss now?! I’m the boss! I’m the bad guy! How bad? Ultra-bad! 12.0 on a 10-point scale of badness! I don’t need weapons… Weapons are for wimps!”

  His resistance without firearms didn’t last long. Soon, jaws clamped around his throat. David died.

  But somewhere deep in his mind, one last thought flashed:

  “Rip and tear!”

  And darkness claimed him.