Chapter 105: Not Her

Shk!

The blade pierced Uncle Ray’s thigh. Time resumed. Uncle Ray screamed.

"AAAAH!"

He staggered backward, clutching his leg as blood spread between his fingers. His face had turned deathly pale. He looked down at the sword wound, then slowly raised his head toward the goateed man.

"Silas! You fucking..."

He never finished the sentence. Ethan stepped forward and drove a kick into his chest. The bald man flew backward, crashed into the rooftop railing, and collapsed onto the concrete. His head struck the ground. He went limp.

Ethan immediately turned toward the stairwell. The goateed man was already retreating. He stumbled through the entrance, one hand gripping the railing as he rushed down the stairs. Ethan considered pursuing him. Then he stopped. His energy was limited, his body was injured, and the man had already demonstrated that he could partially resist Time Stop. Chasing him into an unfamiliar building without knowing what awaited below would be reckless.

Ethan turned back toward Uncle Ray. The bald man lay near the railing, breathing shallowly. Blood pooled beneath his injured leg, and his eyes fluttered as he struggled to remain conscious. Ethan approached without expression. The old man looked up at him. For the first time since they had met, there was no arrogance in his eyes. Only fear.

"Wait..." Uncle Ray rasped. "We can talk about this."

Ethan stopped beside him.

"Can we?"

Uncle Ray swallowed.

"I have supplies. Fuel. Weapons. You can take whatever you want. Just let me go."

Ethan looked down at him. Then he remembered Sofia’s trembling voice. They killed her. His expression didn’t change.

"You should have thought about that earlier."

Uncle Ray’s face twisted as he tried to drag himself backward. Ethan raised his sword. The old man screamed. The sound echoed across the rooftop, carrying into the empty streets below. When it was over, Ethan lowered his weapon. He felt no satisfaction. Only a cold certainty that the man could never hurt Sofia or another innocent person again.

He wiped the blade clean and returned it to his Survival Space. Then he collected the rifles, pistols, and ammunition scattered across the rooftop. The weapons were of limited use against King-Rank creatures or powerful Ability Users, but they could still prove valuable against ordinary zombies and hostile survivors. He wasn’t about to leave useful supplies behind.

"Ethan..."

Sofia’s voice came from behind him. He turned. She stood several steps away, her face pale and her eyes swollen from crying. She had watched the end of the fight from the corner where he had left her. Her gaze drifted toward the stairwell.

"Can we go find my mother now?"

Ethan’s expression softened slightly.

"Of course."

He walked over and offered her his hand. Sofia took it immediately. Her fingers were cold. He gave her a moment to steady herself before leading her toward the stairs. Whatever they found downstairs, he would stay beside her.

The building’s fourth-floor lobby had been converted into a makeshift stronghold. Furniture had been pushed against the walls to create space for stacked crates, water containers, and bags of food. Several tables were covered with scavenged supplies, while a few rifles rested against a support column. Ethan’s attention was caught by the fuel barrels near the far wall. Five barrels of diesel. Five more filled with gasoline. He checked the labels and inspected the seals. The fuel appeared to be in good condition.

This is a worthwhile haul.

The generator in his Survival Space required a steady supply of fuel, and these barrels would keep it running for a considerable period. He stored them all. Sofia barely glanced at the supplies. Her eyes were fixed on the stairs leading down.

"They took my mother to the third floor," she whispered.

Ethan nodded.

"Let’s go."

They descended slowly. The third-floor corridor was darker than the lobby above. Several doors stood open, revealing empty rooms with overturned furniture and broken glass scattered across the floors. A faint metallic smell hung in the air. Sofia’s grip tightened around Ethan’s hand. She had been here before. He could tell from the way she hesitated at each doorway, her gaze darting from one dark corner to the next.

Finally, she stopped outside a room near the end of the corridor. Her breathing became shallow.

"She’s in there."

Ethan stepped ahead of her and checked the room. It was small, with a broken window and a stained mattress pushed against the wall. Several pieces of furniture had been overturned, and dark stains marked the floor. A woman’s body lay face down in the far corner.

Sofia froze. For several seconds, she couldn’t move. Then she slowly stepped forward.

"Mom...?"

Her voice was barely audible. Ethan stayed close as she approached the body. Sofia knelt beside it, her hands trembling so badly that she struggled to grasp the woman’s shoulder. She hesitated. Then she turned the body over.

The moment she saw the face, she went completely still. Her lips parted, but no sound came out. Ethan watched her carefully.

"Sofia?"

She blinked. Once. Twice. Then she shook her head.

"No..."

She leaned closer, examining the woman’s face.

"No, this isn’t..."

Her voice broke.

"This isn’t my mother."

Ethan crouched beside her. Sofia stared at the corpse, confusion gradually overtaking her shock.

"The clothes... Her hair..." She touched her own cheek as though trying to make sense of what she was seeing. "From the rooftop, the distance... I thought it was her."

The woman’s face was pale and still, but the features were wrong. The jaw was narrower. The nose was different. The hair was the same color, and the clothes matched what Sofia remembered, but the person lying on the stained floor was not the woman who had raised her.

Sofia’s breath came short and uneven. She looked up at Ethan, eyes wide and wet.

"She’s not here."

The room was quiet except for the wind moving through the broken window. Ethan stayed where he was, one hand still on Sofia’s shoulder, and said nothing. The body was real. The blood was real. But the person Sofia had come to find was somewhere else in the building, or already gone, and the man who had told her where to look was dead on the roof above them.