Chapter 197: Can You Repeat?

"As for right now... I desperately need a drink."

Sophia’s voice sounded tired—well and truly exhausted. It sat right on the razor edge of depression, laden with the heavy weight of regret, bruised pride, and a pounding headache that refused to dissipate.

When she had dragged herself out of bed earlier with a vicious hangover, she honestly believed that her morning couldn’t get any worse.

Then, in an unexpected stroke of good fortune, she had stumbled across a group of girls around her own age lingering on the lower landing.

She had never considered herself a typical gossip, but in the ruins of civilization, it was always refreshing to find someone to chat with—someone who wasn’t under four feet tall and whose entire vocabulary didn’t revolve around cutting sarcasm.

Sophia knew her little sister was practically vibrating with the urge to deliver another stinging remark right about now.

With her ribs throbbing and her self-esteem scraped raw by Rose’s tongue, Sophia wasn’t sure she could endure another sharp comment without losing her mind.

Without waiting for Carmen to answer or question her choice of venue, Sophia turned on her heel and began marching up the concrete stairs two at a time.

Maybe a few shots of vodka won’t fix her bruised ribs, but it would certainly numb the memory of this wretched morning and dull the sharp edges of her ruined mood.

Watching Sophia ascend the stairwell in a hurry, leaving her little sister trailing behind on the landing, both Ash and Max felt a spark of pure ambition ignite in their chests.

High-end alcohol was a near-mythical luxury in the post-apocalyptic ruins.

Sipping good liquor while having a private conversation with an ethereal, pistachio-haired beauty who had already admitted to being single?

What in the world could possibly top an opportunity like that?

Alas... before the brazen idea could even fully germinate into an actionable scheme, Carmen pivoted smoothly on her heels.

Her wide, unblinking azure eyes locked dead onto the two young men.

On the surface, she appeared entirely harmless—just a tiny, delicate girl in an oversized pink sunhat and a sweet summer dress.

Yet, standing beneath that deadpan stare, Ash and Max felt an inexplicable chill wash over their skin.

A heavy knot of nervous tension tightened in their guts, paralyzing their tongues before either could mutter a single suave word.

"I will look after my sister," Carmen declared. Her small voice was clear, crisp, and rang with a quiet authority that left zero room for negotiation, polite excuses, or lingering looks. "Please wait in the cafeteria for us. We will join you soon."

Whether she had actively read the transparent desires written across their faces or simply possessed a sixth sense for desperate young men remained unknown.

Either way, her brief instruction ruthlessly cut off any possibility of them tagging along.

In a single breath, Carmen had efficiently uprooted the seeds of their ambitions before they had the chance to sprout.

Having delivered her verdict, Carmen turned her back on them without a second thought.

She hitched the brim of her hat up and broke into a brisk jog, her small sneakers pattering against the stairs as she hurried to catch up to Sophia.

The visual was completely comical. After demonstrating the steely composure of a seasoned veteran, the girl was now scurrying up the steps with her tiny legs like an eager toddler chasing an older sibling through a playground.

It left the spectators bewildered, completely unable to decide whether Carmen should be treated as a shrewd, calculating adult or a hyper-competent child.

Once her small silhouette vanished past the fifth-floor landing, the corridor fell silent again.

Only Max, Ash, Naomi, Rhea, and Vivienne remained gathered near the stairwell, their eyes naturally drifting back toward the doorway of Room 308.

The moment they looked, however, an immediate wave of regret washed over them.

Rose was still clinging possessively to Fredrinn’s bare arm, leaning her full weight against his side.

Her slender, ash-pale fingers lightly traced the contours of his throat, her touch dripping with casual, predatory affection.

Her claws were gone, and now she smoothly stroked the countless hickeys that she had left on him in the night.

Though the two of them were murmuring in hushed tones that didn’t carry across the hallway, nobody needed to decipher their whispered words.

The sheer visual was more than enough to spike everyone’s blood pressure.

To make the whole spectacle ten times more infuriating, every single survivor standing in that hallway—without exception—was dead single.

Being forced to watch two ridiculously attractive, overpowered individuals engage in brazen public intimacy while everyone else struggled through the apocalypse felt like a cruel cosmic joke.

Before the awkward tension could drag out any further, heavy, erratic footsteps came clattering up the tiled steps from the third floor.

A familiar, frantic voice rose through the stairwell, rattling off a stream of stressed complaints:

"God damn it, the survivors downstairs are getting fucking restless, what am I supposed to do?! Also, what the hell were those fighting noises earlier?! Was there a zombie? I thought we already searched the building! And is Fredrinn awake yet or not?! I swear to god, I haven’t seen anyone so completely irresponsible and la—zzzzy?"

The agitated voice belonged to none other than Jacob. The bespectacled man came stomping onto the landing, his arms flailing, ready to deliver a full-blown tirade to whoever was in earshot.

Alas, the very instant his sneakers cleared the final riser and his eyes swept across the corridor, the words died right in his throat.

The scene before him was absolute madness.

The heavy oak door to Room 308 lay shattered across the floorboards. Right beside the frame, a gaping, fist-sized crater had been blasted clean through the reinforced masonry, scattering chunks of cracked tile and pulverized drywall in a messy radius.

And standing right in the middle of the destruction was Fredrinn.

He looked wide awake, unbothered, and utterly lethal, a loose windbreaker draping casually over his broad chest while his broken sword hung loosely from his grip.

At his side, Rose tilted her head. She remained securely wrapped around his bicep, her skimpy borrowed clothes accentuating every lethal, divine curve as she peered at the newcomer with bright, predatory curiosity.

Fredrinn’s eyes narrowed into an amused, lazy arc. A faint, razor-sharp smile touched the corner of his lips as he held Jacob’s terrified gaze.

"Sorry. I didn’t quite catch that, Jacob," Fredrinn drawled smoothly, his deep voice carrying effortlessly down the hall. "Can you repeat it, please?"