Andrew found himself in an white padded room. His body felt stiff—like a corpse that refused to die. One moment it was all bright. The next blink, it was covered in red writing.
Run.
Too late.
Death by a thousand cuts.
Something was behind him.
The door swung open and the urge to run panged in his head. He sprinted through, despite each step feeling like a sharp pain throughout his entire body. Only looking in front of him, he’d turn only to find a set of hanging bodies from the ceiling.
Funny. They looked like the young cultists he ripped apart with a machinegun.
He pushed through them as his body got progressively slower. It was as if he was running through an invisible sea of molasses. The air felt disgustingly sticky as his feet mushed through red gore. The intestines beneath him may as well be red-colored mud.
Something bad is going to happen and you won’t be strong enough.
***
“Fuck!”
Andrew panted as he looked around. No hellish hallway, no padded room, and definitely no demon. He was just back in his apartment with a cold sweat, and sheets he brought from home. Even the TV was still on.
Transit usage is at an all-time low as recent incidents have caused public mistrust in the handling of demons. Some have gone online to voice their protest. One user says, quote, I can’t leave the house without fear of being eaten alive, end quote.
Andrew switched the channel.
This is your daily Public Service Announcement to lock your doors, stay indoors after 9 PM, and to try keeping a good six-foot radius between you and others. A demon is dangerous, but not invincible. Keep yourself safe!
Next channel.
One of the biggest mysteries of the century: the demon before the 2030 Transformations. “I tried warning everyone that those damned demons would come back but nobody believed me. Well, look at things now.”
He flicked off the television. He was tempted to just scroll on his phone instead, but he knew that the results would be the same: more reminders of a job that surrounded his life. All from people who probably haven’t seen a demon in-person.
Andrew needed a peaceful morning.
He got up, did his hygiene, made his bed, and changed into a hoodie with sweatpants. He made breakfast, eggs and noodles, along with a nice cup of Vietnamese coffee. There had been a discount at the store, so he had bulks of it in a cabinet.
He finished his meal, put them in the automated dish washer, and let the machines do their work. Living in the modern age meant convenience—the dishes washed themselves and even put themselves back in their respective cabinets. Some real smart stuff.
Andrew looked outside from his window as the machines whirred by themselves. It was the usual sights and sounds of any city: beeping cars, electric billboards, and a speeding train. He had a nice place in the heart of New Changan that balanced distance with convenience. At least the sounds weren’t too loud from here.
Fuck. He was so bored.
There didn’t seem to be anything to do other than sit around. Sure, he could flick on the television to stream a TV show or maybe play some video games, but that wasn’t nearly the same buzz as being out there. It was like giving an alcoholic a soda—the buzz just wasn’t there. Compared to wearing an APE and fighting with his life on the line, staring at a screen was nothing.
Fortunately, his phone buzzed at the right time. It was a text from the CDR groupchat.
Singh: Yo bustas. Gonna head to the gym. Anyone wanna come?
Smith: Cant. Im at gf place.
Gutierrez: In the states.
With a light gleam in his eyes, Andrew tapped his thumbs against the screen.
Andrew: I’m down!
***
Strong 24/7 was the gym at the center of town, and not too far from the actual CDR base. It was a massive, expensive place that must’ve cost a fortune for a membership. In any case, Andrew sat there with a compression shirt and sweatpants as he waited for Singh to pull up. He didn’t bring headphones—he hoped there wouldn’t be a need for it.
“Yo! Cheng!”
Singh went through the entrance with a tight crop top and shorts. She immediately dapped Andrew up before pulling him at the front desk. “He’s a CDR by the way,” Singh told the receptionist.
“Sounds good. Can I see an ID?”
Andrew flashed it, and the receptionist nodded. “One second,” he said as he clacked against the computer. “Alright, you’re all good. Membership is free for CDR members. Thank you for your service.”
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Singh pulled Andrew along. There seemed to be everything in this place. A section for free weights, machines, cardio, and even martial arts studios. “They got a ring in the back, if you’re into boxing and stuff,” Singh said. As usual, she popped open a tin of tobacco dip. “Want one?”
“Uh… isn’t that dangerous for working out?” Andrew asked. “What if you swallow it by accident?”
“Eh, not my first time. You basically shit it out.” She took Andrew’s caution as a no, and took one for herself. “You got anything you’re trying to hit today? Or were you just sitting in your room, bored as all hell?”
Andrew was surprised; she was dead on. “How’d you…” Then he just shook his head. “I’m just trying to do whatever. We could do an endurance workout or something, if you want.”
“Endurance?” Singh asked with a mischievous grin. “Alright. Sounds good to me.”
The warm up wasn’t anything crazy. They just ran a lap or two, stretched their arms and legs, and did a dozen or so push ups. Nothing to cause a real sweat, but at least enough to get some heat going. “Alright, how much free time do you have right now?” Singh asked.
Andrew didn’t have to think much about it, since there wasn’t much to do. “I’m practically free for the rest of the day.”
“Sounds good. 20 push ups,” she yawned.
Andrew did them, as asked, but didn’t think much else about it. He thought that maybe they were just back at the warm up, or maybe an extension of it. But as he got back up, he saw that Singh was staring at her watch.
“Alright, another twenty.”
He did them. Felt his arms warm up a little more.
“Okay… twenty more.”
Andrew kept pushing. He started to feel some wear this time, like his body was starting to register the exercise.
“Twenty!”
Andrew kept going for what felt like forever. It took a while for him to understand what was happening, too long honestly, because they were just doing twenty push-ups every minute, on the minute. He didn’t even know what minute they were on anymore.
“You got a girlfriend?” Singh randomly asked. She was sweating, but definitely not exhausted. It sounded more like she was just passing the time. “Another twenty, first.”
Andrew did his push ups, groaned, and got back up. “No… I don’t have a girlfriend… why do you ask…?”
“Just curious. Smith has a girlfriend in the area—a really fine Asian chick—and Gutierrez has a wife and kid in the ‘States,” she casually replied. “Twenty!”
Twenty push ups later, Andrew coughed, “W-What? He has a wife? And a kid?”
“Yeah, he keeps it on the low. I think he met her when he was in the Army. They have themselves a five-year old in LA. He tries to visit them whenever he can, but he has to get permission from higher up every time. They get nervous when CDR members go abroad, since that means they can’t easily get to their stations. Oh, and do twenty push ups.”
By now, each push-up was a real struggle. Andrew’s body shook as his arms and abs roared in pain. When he finished, he wasn’t sure if he could survive another minute. “How many… push-ups have… we been… doing…?”
“Oh, we’re at a thousand. I think we’re done now.”
“A… thousand…?!”
“Yeah, we’ve been here fifty minutes,” Singh casually replied. She was still sweating, her clothes were smeared, but there wasn’t much wear on her. “I remember the first time Kang made me do the workout, I thought my arms were gonna fall off. But after my third time around, it wasn’t nearly as bad. The key is to just stop feeling sorry for yourself and to think about something else.”
“Like what?”
“Like how crazy it is that Gutierrez has a woman who actually married him,” she chuckled. “Alright, are you ready to move onto squats?”
“More?!” Andrew yelped.
“Yeah. It’s always good to have strong legs,” Singh added. “The APEs are good in making you feel invincible, but when you’re on low-power mode—which I hope you never have to face—you’re practically using your normal strength. I think I had to use it when our batteries fucked up when fighting a medium-level. I was sweating like a bitch.”
In moments like that, Andrew felt horrible for ever complaining. He had only been in one mission; his teammates had been in dozens. Bitching about a workout, complaining about food, or groaning after maintenance was nothing when his teammates have been through hell—literally fighting demons.
“So, ready for squats?” Singh asked.
“Yeah… can I get water first?”
“No. Get it during it. Here we go!”
***
By the time they were done, Andrew’s body was roaring in pain. Standing was hard. Even breathing was hard. He wheezed on the chair as the water bottle shook in his hand. Holding the damn thing made his body hurt even more.
“Did they not make you do that in boot camp?” Singh casually asked. She was still standing on her feet like nothing happened. That just made Andrew feel like more of a pussy.
“Hell no… we got dropped for fucking up but… nothing like that…”
“Yeah, well, you asked for some endurance.” Singh sat herself next to him with a grin. “Something funny about this gym is that, because it’s free to CDR members, you can find plenty of them running around. You can usually tell by the subtle details, like sharp haircuts.”
For example, she pointed at the Asian man running on a treadmill. His body was covered in tattoos and his hair was shaved into a strict fade. “That’s Sergeant Miyoshi. The guy was a cop who went undercover yakuza. Now he’s the team leader of CDR-2: the Dragons.”
Then she pointed to the Black woman cranking out pull-ups. She was built like a truck, in how her muscles were simply massive. “Sergeant Horrigan was an American bodybuilder. Apparently, she was tired of not doing anything productive, so she joined up with the CDRs. Passed with flying colors, so she’s team leader of CDR-3: the Spartans.”
Then there was the bearded old man doing cable rows. He looked almost like a viking, especially with the mythical tattoos on his shoulders and chest. “Sergeant Bjorn was a guy from Norway… or was it Sweden…? Anyway, he’s a military guy from Scandinavia who’s in charge of CDR-1: the Hounds.”
Finally, there was the toned Asian woman on the benches. She was benching 225 lbs like it was nothing before sitting up in her hoodie. “Holy shit, that’s Sergeant Yang,” Singh chuckled. “Almost didn’t recognize her. I shouldn’t be surprised though, since the team leaders like to workout in most of their free time. Well, all CDR members like working out to a degree.”
“Wait, so there are four CDR teams?” Andrew asked.
“Yeah. The Hounds, the Dragons, the Spartans, and then us: the Demonbusters. We all like our little mascots, since it’s probably one of the only things we have agency over. We might fight here and there, but we generally get along pretty well. Brothers in arms, and all that.”
But by then, Andrew’s exhaustion was getting to him, as was his hunger. His empty stomach felt like it was eating him from inside. “Can we go somewhere to eat?” he finally asked.
“Sure, as long as it's Indian.”
She tugged him out of the gym. It was a good time, even if Andrew was barely conscious as they made it to the restaurant. Before he knew it, he was back in his bed—knocked the hell out by exhaustion.