A grueso scar ran from the corner of his forehead down to his left cheek in a straight line, as if soone had sliced through him with a blade.
His na was Jeff, a man Alana felt deeply conflicted about... because he was no ordinary survivor. In fact, he was the president of the country, a figure once respected throughout the world.
Seeing him now, broken and breathless, was surreal and heavy with aning.
For a brief mont, she felt tempted to call Ivy over and reveal his identity, hoping to secure better care for him, because if the apocalypse ever ended, Jeff might beco invaluable to Ivy’s leadership.
But rembering Ivy’s fragile state, Alana only muttered under her breath, "Once Ivy is stable, I’ll tell her everything." With that resolve, she continued healing Jeff.
On the other hand, Silas was carrying Ivy princess-style, his arms firm yet gentle, while she looked up at him in confusion.
"Are you sure you’re telling everything?" she asked softly.
Silas gave her a charming smile in response, and the tension lted from Ivy’s features.
Although she wasn’t sure whether she had forgotten sothing important, she trusted him with her whole heart, allowing herself to rest against him with a dependent expression.
In a soft voice, she asked, "What are we going to do today?" Silas smiled warmly.
"We’re going to have a relaxed day out. I already planned everything." Ivy felt a spark of curiosity.
’Relaxed day out? In an apocalypse? What could possibly be considered fun anymore?’ Yet she still looked forward to it.
"Are we attending so kind of party?" she asked hopefully. Silas chuckled, shaking his head. "No party. Just a casual outing. Wear sothing comfortable."
Ivy nodded, strangely excited, and once they returned to the house, she hurried to freshen up.
From her perspective, she only took a few minutes, but Silas... glancing at the clock, knew two full hours had passed.
He could only sigh helplessly and wait. But when Ivy finally stepped out, Silas felt his breath catch.
She wore a delicate square-neck floral knitted dress that complented her soft pink hair, the gentle fabric fluttering slightly as she moved... and he could only stare, completely srized.
...............
Raya stared at the warehouse before her, hesitation flickering visibly across her face.
After glancing around the dim, foul-slling warehouse, she imdiately began regretting every decision that had brought her here.
She shouldn’t have been so foolish. She shouldn’t have co alone to an abandoned warehouse where not even a single living soul seed to exist.
She shouldn’t have trusted that mysterious letter that had appeared out of nowhere, promising that if she t the person behind it, she would be given a chance to exact revenge on everyone she despised.
And above all, she shouldn’t have concealed this eting from her brother.
She shouldn’t have lied about her whereabouts. God only knew what kind of fate awaited her now.
She had truly been impulsive... recklessly, stupidly impulsive.
Even as she inwardly scolded herself, her gaze continued drifting around the warehouse.
The structure was enormous, at least five ters tall, its once-strong steel beams now weakened with layers of rust that occasionally flaked off and scattered through the air.
Dust coated the walls like a second skin, and the ground, far from clean, was littered with decomposing zombie corpses.
Raya’s stomach twisted as she stared at the rotting bodies; she couldn’t shake the eerie feeling that they might suddenly twitch awake and lunge at her. Her entire body remained on high alert.
What unnerved her even more was the heavy, tallic sll of blood mixed with the pungent stench of zombies.
Yet despite the overwhelming odor, not a single zombie approached the warehouse. It was strange... as if the presence of humans had been completely masked.
And then it hit her. She finally realized the reason: the overwhelming sll of zombie blood hid the scent of living humans.
’If zombie blood hides scent... then what if I create so kind of cream that can mimic this effect?’ she wondered with sudden intensity.
’If it’s applied on the skin, it might help people move around undetected.’ The more she thought, the more possible it seed.
She wasn’t just so spoiled brat... she had been a costology student who studied chemistry precisely to create beauty products.
If not for the apocalypse, she would already have opened her own costic company.
But the apocalypse had destroyed those plans, forcing her to adapt and use her knowledge for survival instead.
Just as Raya was lost in her thoughts, the sharp echo of footsteps resounded through the warehouse.
She stiffened instantly and spun around, her senses sharpening.
A group of masked n entered through the rusty tal doors.
There weren’t just a few... There were at least twelve of them. Each man wore military-style clothing, their heads wrapped in a black scarf that concealed their features.
Only their eyes were visible, and even from that small glimpse, Raya could tell a few subtle differences.
One had a darker tan, while most of the others were fair-skinned. Yet from appearances alone, it was impossible to distinguish between the real soldiers and the pretenders.
Thanks to her brother, who had served in the military, Raya had learned how to identify trained individuals from those rely imitating discipline.
From their posture, the precision of their steps, the way they scanned their surroundings, she could tell that at least half of the group had undergone real combat training.
The leader stepped forward. He was the tanned man whose eyes were strikingly beautiful, almost unnervingly so.
Raya had never seen eyes quite like his. Perhaps only Silas could compete with him in terms of attractiveness, even though she couldn’t see the man’s full face beneath the scarf.
But despite that, she still believed Silas possessed more refined features.
The thought of Silas made bitterness rise in her throat.
She had waited for him. She had believed he understood her feelings.
She had dread, naively, that once they reunited, he would confess to her, that they would finally move forward together.
But...
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