That single sentence had been enough. She moved on. Or at least... she told herself she did.
Ironically, it was only after that mont that Jack began to notice her differently. Slowly, quietly, he started to like her.
But by then... It was too late. Chloe had already closed that Chapter. And worse, she was far too dense to notice the change in him.
So now, they stood at an awkward distance, constantly clashing, constantly avoiding... Yet never truly separating.
Silas, who had long been aware of this, simply watched without interfering. ’So things... are better left to unfold on their own.’
.........
Another month passed.
Ti moved quickly, almost too quickly.
During this period, Ivy was anything but idle. The faint scent of dust, steel, and constant activity filled the ever-growing base as she personally led rescue missions, bringing in more survivors day after day.
At the sa ti, expansion never stopped. Structures rose, departnts multiplied, and systems beca more refined.
Eventually, the population crossed 200,000.
At one point, Ivy stood overlooking the vast settlent. ’...This isn’t just a base anymore,’ she thought quietly. ’It’s a city.’
But that realization brought no comfort. Because there was another number she couldn’t ignore.
Nearly 500,000. Zombies.
So had been lucky, recognized by their families, cured, and brought back. Tears, reunions, trembling hands reaching for one another... she had seen it all.
But for the rest... They had no one. No nas. No one to claim them. And no antidote.
The weight of it pressed heavily on her mind. ’What am I supposed to do with them...?’
Just as that question lingered...sothing unexpected happened.
A charity organization was established. Its purpose was simple. Anyone could donate money. And that money would be used to create antidotes... and save those forgotten zombies.
The idea spread rapidly. Hope, once faint, began to flicker again.
The currency used within the base, special coins crafted under Ivy’s supervision with the help of earth specialists, played a major role.
Their structure was complex, nearly impossible to replicate, thanks to a unique technique Ivy had implented to prevent duplication.
With a stable currency system in place, the charity flourished. Ivy, upon seeing it, felt sothing rare... relief.
’Maybe... this can work.’
Gradually, the chaos began to subside. The infection slowed. Then slowed further. Until finally... It showed signs of stopping completely.
Yet, even with safety returning, no one wanted to leave the base anymore. Because this place had changed.
Before, it was rely a shelter, a place to survive. Cold, functional, and lifeless.
Now... it was sothing more. And much of that transformation was thanks to Felix, Ivy’s brother.
Rather than focusing solely on survival, he ventured into sothing unexpected... entertainnt.
It started with an arena.
Then ca gaming zones, each filled with activity and energy.
From simple gas like badminton and chess to entirely new concepts he had designed himself, the spaces quickly beca crowded with laughter, competition, and life.
Soon, spas, massage centers, and other entertainnt spots followed.
Most of these ventures were owned by Felix, with partnerships from Ember, Kael, and several others. Specialists from across the base were recruited to bring these ideas to life.
The once dull environnt transford into sothing vibrant. Alive.
If there were rankings of wealth within the base, one truth stood clear... Ivy’s family stood at the top.
As the base owner, Ivy possessed imnse resources. Her family, sharp and strategic, had invested wisely, real estate, antidote patents, and various businesses.
Dante, Alice, Asher, and Talia had all built their own ventures. The base had evolved into a thriving business hub.
Small food stalls filled the air with rich, mouthwatering aromas. Restaurants bustled with custors.
So individuals even experinted with creativity... filming short movies despite the limited resources.
One such film, though repetitive and far from perfect, beca unexpectedly popular.
After all... it was the only movie ever made during the apocalypse.
Ivy had been far-sighted... far more than most.
When the apocalypse was still in its initial phase, she had acquired quite a lot of machines. At the ti, no one truly understood why. But now... the answer stood right before everyone’s eyes.
Factories humd with life.
The sharp scent of tal, oil, and heated machinery filled entire sections of the base as different industries operated day and night.
From basic supplies to refined goods, production lines ran continuously, their rhythmic sounds echoing like the heartbeat of a growing civilization.
With so many industries already established, there were barely any people left who even considered leaving the base.
Especially in this new society...where opportunity, though born from chaos, was real.
People who had once been utterly poor now owned small hos, purchased at prices they could actually afford.
Others had started businesses from scratch, their stalls and shops buzzing with activity. So had failed, so had succeeded, but all of them had been given a chance.
Even though the world outside remained dangerous, filled with uncertainty and remnants of horror, inside the base... life had begun to resemble sothing close to normal.
And so...no one wanted to leave. Even when the whispers spread that the zombie apocalypse might soon co to an end.
There was another reason, too. Fear. Not of zombies this ti... but of nature itself.
People had started noticing patterns. First ca the extre heat.
Then the bone-chilling cold. And if that sequence ant anything...
’Sothing worse might be coming next...’
So instead of stepping back into the unknown world outside, they chose to remain where they felt protected. The base had beco more than shelter; it had beco immunity, stability, and control in a world that had none.
Ivy herself shared the sa thought. ’Until we understand the pattern... leaving is too risky.’
While all of this unfolded, another story was quietly taking shape.
Soone else was getting rich.
Not as openly as Ivy’s family... but steadily, strategically. Martha.
From the mont she beca Ivy’s assistant, a thought had rooted itself deep within her mind.
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