Chapter 311: Crazy Old Man

Chapter 311: Chapter 311: Crazy Old Man

It’s not like everyone’s a saint who’ll just give him food on sight. People can barely fend for themselves.

Cynthia Whittaker found it strange, too. The crazy old man was just a normal person, without even a superpower. What kind of group would take in someone like that?

She shook her head honestly. "I don’t know... Maybe some kind-hearted person helped him?"

Even as she said it, she didn’t believe her own words. ’This is the apocalypse. Are there any kind-hearted people left?’

Because of the crazy old man’s presence, customers had to walk around him to buy scratch tickets from the other three sides of the RV.

That left only the crazy old man flailing his limbs and spouting gibberish at the front.

’He was really... bad for business.’

The crazy old man gestured wildly as he approached, reaching Lily Hart in just a few steps. He stood on the other side of the counter, looking up at her.

Their eyes met. His hair was long and fell in a messy tangle over his shoulders.

Up close, she could see it was also greasy and knotted. There were even small lice crawling through it, treating the matted locks like a jungle playground.

But his eyes were strikingly clear, like the purest, most brilliant gemstones, and they shone with sincerity.

The words Lily Hart was about to use to shoo him away caught in her throat. ’There’s something more to him,’ she thought inexplicably.

The words "Get lost" died in her throat, replaced by, "Want a bowl of congee?"

The crazy old man froze. Lily Hart froze, too. The words had slipped out without a second thought.

But she’d said it now and couldn’t take it back. Lily Hart asked Diana Sharp to fetch a bowl of congee from the rice cooker.

Roman Rowe had made it that morning after Lily Hart mentioned she was craving some. It was just plain white congee, slightly on the thick side.

But everyone had gone to the hot pot place for lunch, so the congee had just been sitting in the rice cooker on the ’keep warm’ setting.

Diana Sharp moved quickly, bringing back a bowl of congee. Although she didn’t think it was necessary, she would never question a decision made by Lily Hart.

Lily Hart took the warm bowl of plain congee, braced one hand on the counter, and leaned out to pass it to the crazy old man.

The crazy old man stared at her, then reached out and took the bowl. Lily Hart couldn’t help but notice how chapped and filthy his hands were, the dirt caked under his fingernails.

"Oh, no spoon," Lily Hart realized and was just about to turn and get one.

But then he simply tilted his head back and started pouring the congee into his mouth, using his free hand to shovel it in even faster.

Lily Hart froze. ’Well, I guess he doesn’t need a spoon. His hand is his spoon.’

He polished off the bowl in no time, then held it out, silently asking for more.

Lily Hart frowned and gave the old man another once-over. His hair was a tangled, greasy mess, and his clothes were filthy.

They hung from his frame like tattered rags, looking like they could fall off at any moment. A cloth sack, worn to a grimy black-gray, was tied at his waist.

The old man had a haggard but spirited look, poised on the very brink of madness. His eyes were clear and bright,

unlike the dull, clouded gazes of most survivors.

Lily Hart had intended to take the bowl and give him a refill, but after he’d used his hand as a spoon...

...the bowl was a disgusting sight, smeared with a slurry of congee and looking as if it had been rolled in mud.

Lily Hart wrinkled her nose. "Go get a large disposable bowl. Fill it up with congee and add some sugar."

"Right," Diana Sharp replied.

Seeing this, the crazy old man licked the last remnants of congee from the bowl before stuffing it into the cloth sack at his waist.

"..." Lily Hart was speechless.

Soon, a large bowl of congee arrived. The bowl was nearly as deep and as wide as Lily Hart’s hand.

Lily Hart held it with both hands and offered it to him. "Here. Finish this and get going. Don’t stand here hurting my business."

The old man took it and drank more slowly this time, but eventually, the bowl was empty.

Lily Hart waved him away, urging him to leave. Instead, the old man stuffed the disposable bowl into his sack, sat down cross-legged, and leaned his back against the RV.

"??!" Lily Hart was stunned. "If you don’t get out of here, I’ll get rough!" she threatened.

The old man wiped his mouth with a sleeve so caked in grease and grime you couldn’t tell its original color. Then he crossed his arms and started chanting.

"The end is coming, humanity is doomed, humanity is going extinct~"

He repeated the same few lines over and over. Lily Hart propped her chin on the counter and teased, "The apocalypse already came."

The old man slowly shook his head, his voice cryptic. "The end is coming~ It’s coming~"

Lily Hart sat up straight. She gazed at the yellow, sand-choked sky in the distance, the desolate streets, the ruined buildings.

’Zombies shambling everywhere. If this isn’t the apocalypse, then what is?’

"Get going, get going!" Lily Hart tried to shoo him off. With a mere thought, she moved the old man outside the RV’s safety perimeter.

One moment, the old man was sitting cross-legged on the ground. The next, he felt a sudden gust of wind. Before he could react...

...he was already ten meters away from the RV. He looked around in a daze. ’What just happened? Did I just teleport?’

Refusing to believe it, he scrambled nimbly to his feet, only to immediately forget what he was about to do.

He stood there in a stupor for a long moment before rummaging in his sack and pulling out a handful of stones.

He stared at them for a bit, then put them back. He rummaged some more and pulled out a red Crystal Core.

His eyes lit up. He seemed to remember something, and with newfound purpose, he turned and walked back toward the RV.

Lily Hart, thinking she had finally gotten rid of the old man, had gone back inside to sit on the sofa. She had no idea he was on his way back.

Clutching the red Crystal Core, the crazy old man staggered back to the front of the RV.

He was still muttering the same two phrases, "The end is coming, humanity is doomed."

Diana Sharp and Tina Jacobs were on the other three sides of the RV attending to customers, so they didn’t notice the old man’s return.

The System was diligently scanning, observing everyone from a god-like perspective to detect any malicious intent and warn Lily Hart.

The old man stood before the scratch ticket display, staring at it for a long moment. Then, he turned to stare at a nearby customer.

Copying their actions, he clumsily tossed the Crystal Core into the Lucky Cat’s slot, grabbed a random ticket, and began to scratch.

He didn’t know the difference between various Crystal Cores, nor the difference between the various scratch tickets.

’He just thought this one looked the prettiest.’

The customers around were all residents of Steadfast Base, and they all recognized the crazy old man.

After all, you could see him wandering around outside just by stepping out of the base, the cloth sack at his waist swinging as he walked, his mouth constantly muttering those same two lines.

The strange thing was that he was still alive. In fact, his complexion looked better than that of some of the base’s residents.

A normal person, not eaten by zombies and not starved to death.

It was, frankly, a miracle...

’And now he had a Crystal Core to buy a scratch ticket?’

One customer glanced at the cloth sack at the old man’s waist, a flicker of greed and confusion in his eyes.

The crazy old man scraped at the ticket with his fingernail, managing to pick off most of the latex covering.

’But he couldn’t quite make sense of it. What did this word mean? And what was this symbol?’

A helpful customer prompted him, "You won. Just stick it in there."

It took the crazy old man a moment to process this. He mumbled a few "uh... uh... uhs" before his wrinkled hand stuffed the scratch ticket into the Lucky Cat.

The customer was also curious to see what prize he’d won, so both of them stared at the machine.

The crazy old man only looked a little unhinged, but he was actually quite perceptive and watched as the customer also leaned in to join the excitement.

A beam of white light flashed, and a small card materialized in front of the crazy old man.

The customer’s hand was faster than his; he snatched it up and looked, his eyes widening in disbelief.