Noah arrived at George's location—a fortified, nine-story building. His lungs screaming, a sharp pain in his side. He saw two lower-rank Players defending the main entrance, firing desperate bolts of arcane energy from the second and third floors. The street towards the building was swarmed with a mass of D-Rank ants.
Noah dashed for the back alley, ignoring the desperate calls from the players at the front who saw his unarmored form.
As he arrived, a group of three injured Players stumbled out the back door, supported by a nervous medic. He grabbed the nearest one, a young female Player wearing a scorched Mage outfit, her eyes wide with shock. "Where's George Chambers? Your blacksmith?"
Her expression shifted instantly from fear to disdain. "He—he and the other craftsmen are stuck on the top floor, the ninth. The ants have completely blocked the doorway and they're barely holding them off, using anvils and scrap metal." She sensed his lack of aura and his generic UNPA-issue trainers, her voice sharp with dismissal. "Don't even try if you're not a Player. You'll just get yourself killed and distract us. But don't worry, the others are clearing the floors as we speak. There's just too many ants coming in from the top floor windows."
Another despaired Player coughed up blood. "It must be that crystal they found yesterday during the inventory check. It must've attracted them. George said it felt wrong."
Noah ignored the context. He looked up, spotting a dilapidated external emergency exit ladder and, just beneath it, a large, heavy, roll-away garbage bin used for metal scrap. He didn't ask any more questions.
He dashed and began pushing the oversized metal bin towards the ladder. It was heavy, packed with steel shavings and discarded materials, but his years of monotonous training in the UNPA gym had given him the necessary, Unawakened strength to move it.
"What in the hell are you doing?!" the young Mage shrieked, seeing him struggle with the waste container.
"Rescuing my scaredy-cat of a brother," Noah grunted, finally wedging the bin beneath the bottom rung of the ladder. He flashed a weary, sarcastic smile at the injured Players. "Thanks for the assist! Much appreciated."
He climbed the bin and pulled himself onto the ladder, ascending toward the upper floors, his back exposed to the sky, moving from one point of danger to the next.
Arriving on the ninth floor landing, Noah saw five ants—each the size of a large dog, but longer than five feet—attacking a heavy, reinforced steel door, the noise deafening. The door was already buckling under the combined assault. On the other side, he heard George's and others panicked shouting as the meager defenders—likely technicians and apprentices—barely held the frame.
Noah pressed the button on the cylindrical Artifact in his hand, and the bo staff snapped out instantly with a slick, metallic whisper. He took a deep, steadying breath.
"Hey, bug brains!" he shouted, spinning the staff wildly over his head, creating a low, whistling sound that was just loud enough to cut through the noise of the hammering ants.
The four ants paused their assault on the door and instantly turned their multi-faceted eyes towards him, screeching in unison, a chorus of angry static. Noah's smile was a flash of pure terror replacing the earlier bravado.
"Th-that's seems to be stronger than goblins," he muttered to himself, correcting his previous estimations.
He ran towards his right, darting for the inner staircase, deliberately drawing the ants after him. The low-rank players who followed him up the ladder saw the floor was clear. They burst from the exit door and rushed toward the steel door to help George's crew evacuate the building.
"I don't know if that guy's stupid or an A-Rank in disguise, but we gotta thank him for his bravery!" one shouted, as they helped secure the trapped workers.
Noah reached the eleventh floor and sprinted, glancing back to see the five massive ants chasing him, their claws clicking on the concrete like a relentless drumbeat. Then, from his left, the huge glass walls of the office floor smashed inwards, revealing more ants pouring in from the adjacent building.
His eyes widened in genuine horror. "Ooooohh shit! They are flanking me!"
He scanned for the staircase icon and found it quickly. He burst through the fire door, slammed it shut, and then grabbed a long, discarded mop nearby—a symbolic tool of his former job. He jammed the mop handle between the floor and the door handle, creating a makeshift, ridiculously inadequate barricade against D-Rank horrors.
Then, from behind, on the inner staircase, a single ant appeared and screeched.
Noah paled in sheer, cold dread. "Oh no, This is not good. I'm trapped."
He slowly backed off. There was no way out except through the ant. He glanced at the Rare-Rank bracelet on his wrist and the retractable bo staff. Even with these high-quality items, they were only effective against F-Rank or max E-Rank threats. These ants were solid D-Ranks, their chitinous exoskeletons was thick and hard.
"Still, I think it's worth a try," he muttered, gripping the staff tighter, the knowledge of his impending death sharpening his focus.
The ant lunged. Noah holding his staff tighter prepared for the worst. Then in an instant, he smiled wide and sidestepped, moving with the practiced, lightning-fast reflexes of a man who'd dedicated his life to physical perfection. One of the ant's razor-sharp legs ripped through his shirt, scratching his skin and tearing his backpack off. He used his staff as a miniature pole, leaping over the ant in a move he'd practiced a thousand times in the UNPA gym.
Noah laughed, a loud, panicked, triumphant sound. "Hahahaha, if this was a manga, I would've fallen into the classic trope or cliché! Jokes on you, ant, I'm not falling for that!"
The ant screeched again, but Noah was already gone, sprinting toward the next flight of stairs.