James Lone didn't rush to act. Instead, he leaned back and popped a few Enlightenment Fruits into his mouth, chewing leisurely.

Let these idiots do the work for me, he thought with a faint smile.

They'd serve as perfect guinea pigs to test the weak spots in his building's defenses. By observing how they moved and where they attempted to breach, he could plan his future countermeasures more effectively.

The three men gasped for air as they hauled themselves up to the 30th floor. Sweat dripped from their foreheads, their legs trembling from exertion. Days of poor eating had left their bodies weak, and even this minimal effort was taking a toll.

"God... I'm dying here," one of them panted.

"This is too dangerous with our strength in this state. Maybe we should turn back," another muttered.

The tall, skinny man in their group sneered. "Turn back? Brugger's already dead, and we're the ones who killed him. Do you think James Lone won't come after us? Someone probably saw us earlier!"

The other two froze, the reality of their situation sinking in.

The skinny man's voice turned cold and venomous. "We have no way out now. It's either kill James Lone and take his food, water, and women, or we die ourselves. There's no middle ground."

Faces pale, the two reluctantly nodded. Any hope of retreat was crushed.

With grim determination, the three men climbed onward, finally reaching the rooftop. As they crossed onto the flat surface, all three collapsed in exhaustion, panting heavily.

"Just a little more... then we'll have everything," one of them murmured, trying to summon a shred of motivation.

The skinny man leaned against his knees, catching his breath, then looked up at the cloudy sky. The pitch-black night offered no moonlight or visibility.

"Perfect weather for killing," he muttered with a grin.

The other two shared a knowing laugh. Resting for another ten minutes, they finally stood and began scouting along the edges of the rooftop. It didn't take long to locate the area directly above 3302's balcony.

The skinny man tied a professional series of climbing knots onto a sturdy rope, creating tension points at even intervals. One of the others watched, wide-eyed.

"Damn, man. What did you do before all this? You look like a pro."

The skinny man puffed up his chest. "I used to install high-voltage power lines. Spent every day climbing poles and buildings—this is second nature to me. Stick with me, and I'll get us down safely."

Their spirits lifted. With a pro on their side, their odds suddenly felt better.

Carefully, the skinny man anchored the climbing rope to the guardrail and began lowering it inch by inch. He climbed onto the edge of the wall and peeked down. The void below was pitch black, the sheer drop invisible in the darkness of the citywide blackout.

The wind tugged at the rope, causing it to sway slightly. Even the experienced climber felt a chill crawl up his spine. The other two, less accustomed to heights, were already shaking with fear.

"Shit... this is terrifying," one of them whispered.

"Maybe we should... just call it off," the other stammered.

Useless idiots, the skinny man cursed silently. Out loud, he offered an encouraging smile. "Relax. I'll make a safety line for you guys. It's completely secure, no danger at all—"

"Don't bother," a voice suddenly interrupted from the shadows. "Just climb as it is."

"Who's there?!" The three men froze, spinning toward the source of the voice.

From the darkness, a flashlight switched on, illuminating James Lone as he strolled toward them. The light was set to camping mode, casting an eerie glow that outlined his silhouette.

The sight of him was like a bucket of ice water dumped over their heads. They stood frozen, pale as ghosts. One of them even pissed himself, the pungent smell filling the air.

James placed the flashlight on the guardrail, leaned over to inspect the rope, and chuckled. "Creative. Late-night rooftop climbing. Very bold."

The skinny man dropped to his knees, his voice trembling. "James—no, Mr. Lone, this is a misunderstanding! Let me explain—"

James sighed, shaking his head. "We're all adults here. Do you really think I'm that stupid?"

The skinny man slapped himself hard across the face, tears streaming down as he begged, "Mr. Lone, I was blinded by greed! Please, forgive me this once!"

As he crawled toward James, his hand slipped behind his back, inching toward the boning knife tucked into his waistband.

Bang!

A bullet tore through his forehead, the back of his skull exploding in a spray of red and white. His body crumpled to the ground, lifeless, as the other two were showered in gore.

James calmly lowered his handgun, his expression unchanged.

The remaining two men stood frozen, their courage shattered. The sight of the gun terrified them far more than James's abilities ever had. If they'd known he had firearms, they never would've dared to come here.

James stepped toward them, the gun casually dangling at his side. His voice was calm but carried a lethal edge. "Here's the deal. Climb down the rope. I need to test if it works."

The two men frantically shook their heads, trembling. "No! Please, we won't do it! Please spare us!"

Bang!

Another shot echoed through the night, and one of them collapsed, blood pooling beneath him.

James turned to the last man standing, his voice icy. "I said... climb."

The man's mind went blank, his body moving on autopilot. He scrambled onto the edge, gripping the rope with shaking hands. Looking down, the sheer drop made his stomach churn, and his limbs trembled violently.

"I-I can't... please, I can't do it..." he sobbed.

Bang! A shot struck near his feet, scattering stone fragments. James's face remained emotionless as he leveled the gun at the man's head.

Left with no choice, the man gripped the rope and began his descent. He clung to it desperately, every fiber of his being consumed by terror. Somehow, miraculously, he made it to the halfway point between the 33rd and 32nd floors.

But the rope began swaying violently, and he clung to it, sobbing uncontrollably. "I can't go further! I can't!"

James leaned over the edge, watching with mild interest. "So it is possible, huh?" He pulled out a knife and began sawing at the rope.

The man's screams echoed through the darkness. "No! No! Please don't cut it! Please!"

With a final slice, the rope snapped. The man's screams turned to a wail of despair as he plummeted. Seconds later, a heavy thud marked his body's impact with the ground.

James snorted, brushing his hands off. "Pathetic."

He returned to his apartment and grabbed 'Byakuga n', tugging the dog's ear. "From now on, you're sleeping on the roof. Keep watch. Don't let anyone else up here."

4th Floor, Seven Days Hotel, Near the New York Film Academy

Teresa Taylor slumped into a corner, her body heavy with exhaustion. Around her, the remaining survivors sprawled on the floor, too drained to even move. They'd traveled an entire day, but the cost had been steep.

Of the 35 who had started the journey, only 22 remained. The rest had either succumbed to exhaustion, lost their way in the purple mist, or fallen victim to mutated plants and animals.

Lincoln Filed, one of the ability users, lay unconscious, his clothes soaked in blood. A giant mantis had ambushed him, severing an arm and leaving his chest shredded. Only Teresa's desperate rescue had saved him, but even so, he likely wouldn't survive the night.

Mike Brown, the other ability user, had been luckier. He slept soundly on the floor, untouched by the chaos.

Teresa stared at Lincoln's pale face, guilt gnawing at her. If I hadn't made this decision, he might still be fine. Those 13 people might still be alive...

If only we had weapons... fewer would've died...

A distant sound cut through her thoughts.

Bang.

Her head snapped up, her eyes sharp. "A gunshot? Could there be other police officers nearby?"

In New York, ordinary civilians didn't have guns. Only police, military, or someone who had stolen a weapon would be armed.

Mike Brown stirred awake, groggily muttering, "Chief... I think I heard gunfire."

Another gunshot echoed.

Mike jolted upright. "It's definitely gunfire!"

"Can you pinpoint the location?" Teresa asked.

Mike listened carefully, then pointed in a direction. "There. About 500–550 meters away. The shooter's high up—that's why the sound carries."

Teresa pulled out her phone, wincing at the dwindling battery life. Opening an offline map, she traced the direction.

"500 meters... Sunshine Garden Complex?"

Her brow furrowed as she stared at the building's silhouette. If it's a fellow officer, they could be a valuable ally. If it's the thief who stole the guns...

Her eyes narrowed dangerously. That'll depend on his attitude. If he surrenders and hands over the weapons, he'll live. If not...

She closed her phone and addressed the group. "Rest here tonight. Tomorrow, we're heading to Sunshine Garden Complex."