Jett closed in on Volkov first out of sheer adrenaline; he threw a clumsy first punch. It was fueled more by desperation rather than skill.

  It was easily dodged. Volkov's eyes flashed with a red hue.

  "Insolent whelp!"

  He roared, his voice deepened into a growl that Jett felt even from where he stood.

  Volkov's granite-like features melted and shifted. His skin reformed, hardening into chitinous plates that gleamed like obsidian.

  His hands elongated, his fingers twisted into wickedly sharp claws. His teeth extended into jagged fangs, and his eyes burned with an inner inferno. They were orange.

  In that instant, the Volkov he had lunged at was gone, replaced instead by a monstrous predator, a harrowing being of nightmare.

  Jett stumbled back, putting distance between them, and a gasp escaped his mouth.

  "What the hell is that?!"

  The creature that was once Volkov didn't answer him with words. It moved forward with terrifying speed; Jett could only see a black blur.

  Claws slashed out, and Jett instinctively threw up his arms to defend himself. He felt a loud, sickening thud as the claws connected, but instead of tearing through flesh—they skidded off his skin.

  It was as if he had been struck by an enormous hammer. The force of the blow sent him flying, but there was just a bone-jarring impact once his body flew against the wall of the building, denting it with a visible web of cracks.

  'Hard body..!' Jett remembered belatedly as he slid down the wall with a contorted face of pain.

  If not for that trait, he would likely have every single bone in his body shattered.

  The creature snarled, its red eyes widened in fury and surprise. It launched another attack—which was a flurry of acrobatic leaps and strikes that defied gravity.

  Jett was always on the defensive, stumbling backward, his arms were raised to protect himself. He was outmatched in every way. Volkov was faster, stronger, and far more skilled, while Jett was untrained and clumsy.

  'Damn! He's trying to actually kill me!'

  A claw grazed his cheek, leaving a shallow cut. Jett grimaced in pain, his hand flew to the wound. He could feel his own blood welling up. The scent of it seemed to drive the creature into a frenzy. It lunged again with its jaws opening toward his throat.

  'Crap!'

  Jett barely managed to duck, and the creature's head slammed into the ornate wall behind him. Plaster exploded outwards, and a crack spider-webbed across the surface again.

  The creature seemed unfazed. It spun around with inhuman agility. Its red eyes were burning with bloodlust. It opened its maw, revealing rows of serrated teeth that dripped with acid, melting the tiles below its feet. Another growl emerged from it.

  "Okay, okay! I get it! You're the scary monster! I'm the squishy pizza guy!" Jett yelled.

  "Can we just call it a draw?! I'll even give you a five-star rating!"

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  The creature ignored his pleas; it was focused on the juicy prey before it. The scent of Jett's blood was something that it couldn't forget about.

  It crouched toward the floor, muscles rippled through its body like steel cables.

  Jett's instincts warned him; he couldn't fight this thing. He wasn't ready; he needed to survive. He turned and immediately fled.

  He sprinted down a hallway; the creature's enraged roar echoed from behind him. The monster was gaining on him with unnatural speed; its claws scraped against the floor, leaving deep gouges in the expensive material.

  Jett burst into the first room he saw—a lavish dining room. A massive crystal chandelier hung precariously overhead, casting the room in a dazzling light. A long mahogany table dominated the center with untouched plates and silverware that looked like they belonged in a museum.

  He slammed the door shut behind him, shoving a heavy armchair against it. It obviously wouldn't be able to hold the creature for a long time, but it might buy him a few precious seconds of respite.

  He scanned the room frantically, his brown eyes darted around for anything that could serve as a weapon. A heavy candlestick? A decorative sword on the wall? Anything was better than his bare hands.

  The door splintered under the creature's assault. The armchair shattered like wood, and the monster slammed into the room. Its eyes were still glowing a bright orange.

  Jett scrambled behind the dining table, narrowly avoiding a swipe from its claws. The table wobbled precariously; it was on the verge of toppling under the force of the impact.

  'Okay, new plan!' Jett thought to himself.

  'Don't get eaten!'

  He darted out from behind the table and into the next room—it was a study.

  Dark wood paneling lined the walls, filled with shelves upon shelves of leather-bound books. A massive desk sat in the center; it was cluttered with papers and an antique globe.

  The creature crashed into the study with its massive frame barely fitting through the doorway, nearly eight feet tall.

  It swiped at Jett, sending books flying from the shelves.

  Jett dodged the attack barely and grabbed the first thing his hand landed on. It was a heavy, brass letter opener. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing.

  He backed away, keeping the desk between himself and the creature.

  His heart was pounding in his chest, and his breath was ragged and audible. He could feel the creature's hot, fetid breath on his face.

  'I have to keep running! And think of a way to kill this crazy bastard, if I even can..!'

  He spotted another door on the far side of the study. His only chance was to keep moving, to keep the creature off balance.

  He sprinted toward the door; the creature was still on his heels. He burst through the door and found himself in a long, narrow hallway. Portraits of stern-looking men and women lined the walls; their eyes seemed to follow him as he ran.

  The hallway twisted and turned, leading him deeper into the labyrinthine apartment. He could hear the creature's heavy footsteps and growls behind him.

  He spotted a bathroom at the end of the hallway, then he lunged inside and slammed the door shut, locking it with a flimsy-looking bolt.

  The creature pounded on the door; its claws scraped against the wood. Jett braced himself against the wall; he was trembling horribly.

  The bathroom was opulent, with marble floors, gold-plated fixtures, and a massive Jacuzzi tub. A large mirror hung over the sink, reflecting his own terrified face.

  'I hate my job!'

  He glanced around desperately, searching for a way out. A small window was set high in the wall, but it was too small for him to climb through.

  Jett knew the door wouldn't hold for long. Panic clawed at his throat, but he forced it down. He had to think. There had to be a way out.

  His gaze swept across the bathroom again, and this time, it stopped on something initially overlooked: a large ventilation grate in the ceiling. It was partially obscured by the ornate molding.

  It was a long shot, but it was the only chance he had. He scrambled onto the edge of the Jacuzzi tub, ignoring the ache in his muscles. He reached up and pushed against the grate. It rattled, then popped open.

  A gust of stale air rushed out, carrying the scent of dust and disuse. The opening was just big enough for him to squeeze through.

  The door to the bathroom splintered and shattered. The creature lunged into the room.

  Jett didn't hesitate. He hauled himself up into the vent and pulled himself up and into the darkness of the ventilation shaft. He didn't look back. He crawled forward; the metal felt really cold against his skin. The air was thick with dust, and he coughed and wheezed as he moved.

  The vent twisted and turned, snaking its way through the building's infrastructure. It was cramped and claustrophobic, and Jett felt a growing sense of unease.

  He had no idea where he was going, but it was better than facing that monster. After what felt like an eternity, the vent opened into another room.

  Jett pushed the grate open and dropped down onto the floor.

  He landed in a graceful crouch; his enhanced reflexes from his base Somatic path had kicked in. He was in what appeared to be a private study, similar to the one downstairs.

  His eyes scanned the room, taking in the details. A massive desk dominated the center, cluttered with strange objects and documents.

  But it was something else that caught his attention. Leaning against the desk was a sleek, black baseball bat. It wasn't ordinary, though. He felt drawn to it. It was black, with red lines running through it.

  'What is this?'

  He cautiously reached out and picked up the bat. It felt surprisingly light in his hand.

  As his fingers closed around the handle, a voice echoed in his mind, causing him to nearly fly out of his clothes. It was the same voice from before, the one that had announced his transformation.

  < You have acquired a Carcinoma Shard: Bloodletter. >

  [ Rank : Spawn ]

  [ Tier: 1 ]

  A shiver ran down Jett's spine. What did that mean? He knew that Spawn was the lowest rank by his intuition, but what was a Carcinoma Shard?

  He examined the bat more closely. The wood was dark and impossibly smooth, like polished obsidian.

  Description: Forged from a Spawn Abomination, Bloodletter is a bludgeon of pure annihilation. It disrupts the flow of supernatural energy within a creature's form.

  Cruel Impact: Impacts from Bloodletter generate a disruptive pulse that weakens the target's supernatural abilities significantly.

  Jett gulped hard. A weapon that could disrupt supernatural energy? That sounded... incredibly useful against the creature downstairs.

  His gaze fell upon the desk. A letter lay open on its surface; it was written in elegant, flowing script. The name at the top caught his eye:

  'To: Mr. Volkov.'

  Jett hesitated—then picked up the letter. He knew he shouldn't - but his curiosity won him over.