Chapter 73: Ryan Takes Steroids?

The first thing I noticed when consciousness slowly crept back was the absence of back pain I should have after working a lot in the Municipal Office. Instead, there was something else—a peculiar lightness in my limbs, as if my body had somehow been recharged overnight.

I stretched, feeling my muscles respond with an ease that surprised me. The soreness I’d grown accustomed to from our daily struggles against the Infected was notably diminished. Last night with Elena lingered in my mind like a warm echo, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that it had been more than just physical release. There had been something deeper, more primal about the connection we’d shared.

Rolling onto my side, I stared at the peeling wallpaper and tried to make sense of what I was experiencing. The stabilizing effect that intimate contact had on those afflicted with the Dullahan Virus should be for women only at least I thought. But this felt different. It wasn’t just that the encounter had helped Elena; something had changed in me too.

The more I reflected on it, the more certain I became. Each intimate encounter I’d had since discovering my infection had left me feeling… enhanced. Not just physically satisfied, but genuinely stronger. My reflexes seemed sharper, my endurance greater, my control over the beast lurking beneath my skin more refined. It was as if each act of sex was somehow feeding the virus, allowing me to harness its power rather than simply containing it.

The thought both thrilled and terrified me. Was this some twisted evolution of my condition? Was I becoming more like the creatures we fought against, or was I learning to master the very thing that could destroy me?

I didn’t want to become some kind of huge beast with extremely libido…

A rich aroma drifting up from downstairs interrupted my brooding. The scent of cooking oil and something savory made my stomach growl audibly, reminding me that enhanced abilities apparently came with an enhanced appetite. I pulled on yesterday’s clothes—we all had to make do with limited wardrobes these days—and made my way downstairs.

The kitchen was a picture of domestic normalcy that felt almost surreal given our circumstances. Rachel stood at the ancient gas stove, her red hair pulled back in a practical ponytail, wielding a spatula. The sleeves of her flannel shirt were rolled up to her elbows, revealing arms that had grown leaner and more defined since we’d been forced into this nomadic lifestyle.

Rebecca hovered nearby, clearly trying to help but with the uncertain movements of someone still learning to navigate a kitchen. She held a carton of eggs like it might explode at any moment.

“Careful with those,” Rachel said gently, guiding Rebecca’s hands as she cracked another egg into the sizzling pan. “The trick is to tap firmly but not too hard, then use your thumbs to—there, perfect.”

Rebecca looked at it but she didn’t look really interested in cooking. She was just helping her sister.

I noticed the absence of several familiar faces immediately. The house felt quieter than usual, with an almost expectant quality to the silence. Elena and Alisha were notably missing from the kitchen, and I suspected their absence wasn’t coincidental. My departure last night had probably sparked exactly the kind of conversation I’d been hoping to avoid but had to happen eventually. The thought of Alisha confronting Elena about our relationship—or whatever it was we had—made me slightly uneasy.

Christopher and Cindy were absent as well, but for entirely different reasons. My advice from the previous night had apparently struck home, and I had to admire his initiative in acting on it so quickly.

“Oh, Ryan!” Rachel’s voice pulled me from my observations. She turned from the stove with a warm smile. “Perfect timing. Do you want some fried eggs? I made extra.”

“I’d appreciate that, Rachel. Thanks,” I replied, returning her smile as I made my way toward the dining table.

The table itself was a sturdy oak piece that had probably hosted family dinners for decades before becoming our communal gathering place.

Sitting at the far end was an unlikely pairing that immediately caught my attention. Daisy and Liu Mei occupied adjacent chairs, but they might as well have been on different planets. The contrast between them was stark—Daisy fidgeting with nervous energy, occasionally glancing at her silent companion with obvious longing for conversation, while Liu Mei remained absorbed in her book with the kind of focused intensity that screamed ’do not disturb.’

Liu Mei’s book was thick and worn, its spine cracked from repeated readings. I couldn’t make out the title from where I stood, but knowing her, it was probably something dense and philosophical or eccentric one if you know what I mean…

“Oh, Ryan… good morning,” Daisy said as I approached, her face lighting up with genuine pleasure. She adjusted her glasses with a smile.

“Morning, Daisy,” I replied, settling into another seat. “Sydney still sleeping?”

Daisy nodded, tucking a strand of her chestnut brown hair behind her ear. “Yes, she said she was tired. You know how Sydney gets after a busy day—all that energy has to go somewhere, and when it finally crashes…” She trailed off with a giggle.

Yeah I mean I saw her with my eyes bouncing around during yesterday’s work at the Municipal Office, her endless chatter filling silences, her infectious enthusiasm managing to lift spirits even in our darkest moments. The crash afterward was probably inevitable.

“Yesterday wasn’t exactly physically demanding for her,” I mused, “but all that talking and jumping around would wear anyone out.”

“Exactly!” Daisy agreed.

Daisy was a quiet girl and was only friends with Alisha and Elena. She was clearly the one having hard time to make friends but obviously Sydney was a case apart and it didn’t surprise me at all Daisy opened up with Sydney.

“Hum… Ryan?” Daisy called me suddenly with a small voice.

“Yeah?”

She fidgeted with her glasses again, pushing them up her nose in a gesture that seemed more about buying time than necessity. “Are you… taking something special?”

“W…What?”

A deep blush spread across Daisy’s cheeks, the color rising from her neck to her forehead in a wave of embarrassment. “L… Like steroids or other types of products…”

I felt my mouth fall open slightly. Of all the things I’d expected her to ask about, this wasn’t even on the list. From the corner of my eye, I caught what sounded suspiciously like a suppressed laugh. Liu Mei’s book shifted slightly, just enough to hide what I was certain was a smirk.

“I… I don’t mean to offend you, Ryan, really!” Daisy rushed to explain, her hands waving frantically as if she could physically dispel any offense her words might have caused. “B… But I think everyone’s noticed how you’ve changed since we first met. You seem even taller and stronger, and I… I thought maybe you were taking something…”

The physical changes weren’t imaginary—I’d noticed them myself. My clothes fit differently, my reflection in mirrors and windows showed a more defined jawline, broader shoulders, a more imposing presence overall. The Dullahan Virus was reshaping me in ways that went far beyond the obvious symptoms.

“Why would I do that?” I asked, fighting to keep my expression neutral even as my mind raced.

I was taking something, in a sense, but it wasn’t steroids or supplements. It was something far more dangerous and transformative.

“I could fight Infected before we met, Daisy,” I continued, hoping my voice sounded more convinced than I felt. “You know that.”

“N… no, yes, that’s right,” she stammered, clearly struggling with how to articulate her thoughts. “But I thought… I thought maybe you wanted to look stronger…”

The conversation was veering into territory I definitely didn’t want to explore. “Daisy…?”

She clenched her fists in her lap, her blush deepening to an almost alarming shade of red. “I… I saw your glances toward Elena sometimes and thought maybe…”

Ha…here I thought I was quite prudent…

This was exactly the kind of observation I’d been hoping no one would make, the kind of attention that could unravel the carefully maintained fiction that nothing unusual was happening between Elena and me.

“W… wait, Daisy, you’re thinking too far—” I started to protest, but she was beyond listening now.

“I… I thought you wanted to get strong for Elena because you like her!” The words burst out of her like a dam breaking, loud enough that I was certain everyone in the house could hear them.

The silence that followed was deafening. Even the sizzling from Rachel’s pan seemed to quiet, as if the entire house was holding its breath. I could feel eyes on me from every direction—Rachel had gone completely still at the stove, her spatula suspended in mid-flip, while Rebecca stood frozen with an egg still in her hand, her expression shifting between surprise and something that looked almost like concern, concern not for me but toward Rachel’s weird reaction.

Liu Mei’s book had lowered just enough for me to see her eyes, dark and analytical, watching the scene unfold with the detached interest of a scientist observing an experiment. Even she seemed curious to see how I would handle this unexpected exposure.

“T… That’s a misunderstanding,” I managed to say, my voice sounding strained even to my own ears. “I was just…”

I wanted to deny it outright, to insist that Elena and I were nothing more than fellow survivors thrown together by circumstances. But the words stuck in my throat, weighted down by the memory of the previous night, by the genuine connection we’d shared.

“I don’t take weird products,” I said finally, settling on a partial truth that felt less like betrayal. “I just… I just reached my growth spurt quickly.”

The lie felt hollow even as I spoke it, but what was the alternative? Explain that I was infected with a virus that was systematically transforming me into something that might not be entirely human anymore?

Rachel finally resumed her cooking, but I could see a thoughtful expression on her face.Rebecca set down her egg and found sudden interest in arranging the plates, but her glances toward Rachel didn’t go unnoticed.

Daisy on the other hand looked mortified by her own boldness, her hands twisted together in her lap as she stared down at the table. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to… I just noticed, and I thought…”

“It’s okay,” I assured her, though nothing about this situation felt okay. “You were just concerned. I appreciate that.”

Yeah she was close friends with Elena so it was understandable she was curious and concerned about the nature of our relation but it was hard to explain it.

God, I really wished it wasn’t so complicated, but what could I even say? The truth was a tangled mess of emotions and circumstances that I wasn’t sure I could articulate, even to myself.

I loved Sydney and I loved Rachel.

And Elena….similarly.

The thought of anyone else being with her, of losing her to someone else, sent a possessive surge through me that I couldn’t deny.

That could only be love, right? Maybe a weird, complicated, virus-influenced form of love, but still love nonetheless.

Part of me knew I should sit down with all three of them—Sydney, Rachel, and Elena—and have an honest conversation about my feelings, about what was happening between us. But the very thought made my stomach clench with anxiety. I was chickening out, and I knew it. The discussion itself would be too fucked up, too complex.

I needed to understand their thoughts about me first, needed to gauge where I stood before making any decisions that could change everything.

“No… no, thank you for answering,” Daisy said suddenly. “But if you really do like Elena, I will support you, Ryan!”

I blinked, completely caught off guard by her earnest declaration. “W… What?”

She straightened in her chair, her usual nervousness replaced by a fierce determination that transformed her entire demeanor. “I… I mean, I’ve known you for several days now, and I think you’re a good person. You’ll protect Elena, won’t you?”

She was clearly looking at me like I was some kind of hero, when the truth was far more complicated. I was protecting Elena, yes, but I was also becoming something that might be dangerous to everyone around me.

“You’re a really attentive friend,” I said, deflecting slightly while trying to process her unexpected support.

A soft smile crossed her face, the kind that spoke of deep, abiding loyalty. “Are you close to the twins?” I asked, genuinely curious about the bond I’d observed between them.

Her expression grew thoughtful, tinged with a mixture of gratitude and old pain. “Yes… when I was isolated back at Lexington Charter, some of the other students… insulted me. Called me names, made fun of my glasses, my shyness.” Her hands clenched involuntarily at the memory. “Elena and Alisha intervened. They didn’t just stop the bullying—they took me into their group, made me part of their circle. I’ll be forever indebted to them. I’m so happy to have them as friends.”

The picture she painted filled in gaps I hadn’t even realized existed. It explained the fierce loyalty I’d observed, the way Daisy seemed to orbit around the twins like a satellite, always ready to support them despite her own fears and insecurities.

Her expression grew more somber then. “Even now… they’re the ones protecting me. I’m scared of the Infected, terrified really. And my parents…” Her voice broke slightly, and I saw tears beginning to form in her eyes.

Her parents were almost certainly dead—we all knew the statistics, the grim reality of what had happened to most families when the outbreak began. But knowing it intellectually and accepting it emotionally were two very different things.

The tears spilled over then, tracking down her cheeks and I felt something twist in my chest at her pain, a protective instinct that had nothing to do with the virus and everything to do with basic human compassion.

“Not only Elena and Alisha,” I said gently, reaching across the table to briefly touch her hand. “You can count on me as a friend as well, Daisy.”

She raised her gaze, surprise evident through her tears. There was something almost shocked about her expression, as if she’d never considered that anyone beyond the twins might care about her wellbeing.

I smiled, trying to project the kind of reassurance she might needed. “And the others as well. We’ll all protect you.” Then, unable to resist lightening the mood slightly, I leaned forward conspiratorially and whispered while pointing discretely at Liu Mei, still absorbed in her book just a few seats away, “Except her. She might abandon you if things get too rough. Don’t trust her completely.”

The comment had the desired effect. Daisy’s tears turned to surprised laughter, a sound that seemed to surprise her as much as it did me. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, smearing her glasses slightly in the process.

“That’s mean, Ryan,” she said, but her voice carried warmth rather than reproach. She cleaned her glasses carefully before putting them back on, her smile shy but genuine. “But thank you… really. It means more than you know.”

Liu Mei’s book lowered just enough for her to give me a flat, unimpressed look that suggested she’d heard every word of my staged whisper and clearly it didn’t really please her but I ignored her.

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