Chapter 198: Staying A Few Days

"Sorry. I didn’t catch that, Jacob. Can you repeat it, please?"

Fredrinn’s voice remained silky smooth, laced with a mild, teasing weight that felt like an iron hammer hovering above a fragile glass vase.

From behind him, Max and Ash instantly seized the opening, letting out sharp, collective snickers.

"What happened, Jacob? Cat got your tongue?" Max mocked openly, crossing his thick arms and leaning back with an insolent grin.

Ash smirked alongside him, shaking his head.

While Naomi, Rhea, and Vivienne were still unawakened civilians who couldn’t openly mock the awakeners or make fun of them. Still, it didn’t stop a light chuckle to draw out of their lips.

Though, they hid their reaction soon after, making Jacob’s eyelids twitch.

Of course, the two boys who mocked him weren’t worried in the slightest as they were awakened themselves, and even stronger than Jacob himself.

Jacob’s thin lips twitched spastically.

A bead of cold sweat rolled down his temple, threatening to ruin his calculated composure.

Moving with frantic, jerky motions, he hurriedly reached up to adjust the brim of his ridiculous wide-brimmed cowboy hat, tugging violently at the neon-colored tactical jacket he insisted on wearing like a badge of authority.

He cleared his throat with a loud, theatrical cough, forcing his pale face into a well fabricated political smile.

"B-Brother Fredrinn! Good morning to you! A wonderful, blessed morning!" he stammered, his earlier arrogance evaporating into thin air as he quickly pivoted his eyes toward the demoness. "And to you as well, sister-in-law Rose! Your new look really suits you!"

Beside Fredrinn, Rose’s expression underwent an immediate, hilarious transformation.

The cold, venomous malice lingering from her earlier clash with Sophia vanished like smoke in a gale.

Her delicate, pointed features softened, and her plump lips curved into a bright, unmistakably pleased beam.

She knew perfectly well that the cowardly man was merely buttering her up to bury his monumental slip-up from moments ago.

Yet she couldn’t bring herself to care.

He had called her his sister-in-law. To Rose’s possessive, demon-born mind, the title was an explicit public validation that she was recognized as Fredrinn’s wife! It felt awesome!

Fredrinn observed the shift and let out a faint, silent sigh, marveling at how predictably Rose operated once someone understood her quirks.

A stranger could shower her with grand speeches, offering praise for her ungodly combat prowess, her terrifying aura, or her ancient lineage, and she would simply stare back with detached, icy indifference.

But the exact moment someone complimented her connection to Fredrinn—or teased her with domestic labels like ’wife’ and ’partner’—the terrifying succubus melted into pure, pliable sweetness.

For Fredrinn, it was an undeniably endearing flaw. It kept her fiercely loyal and utterly devoted, grounded by affection rather than fear.

As for Jacob... well, Fredrinn had zero illusions about what lurked beneath the neon jacket.

The man was a textbook opportunist—a calculating wolf disguised in pathetic sheep’s clothing, patiently operating in the shadows while biding his time for a profitable harvest.

Yet Jacob’s cunning came paired with genuine utility.

His political instincts, his administrative competence, and his knack for public manipulation were invaluable assets in managing the survivors properly.

He maintained an iron grip over his original survivor faction, and he was already steadily weaving his influence through the high school group they had welcomed earlier.

A pragmatic leader didn’t discard useful tools simply because they possessed dirty edges; Fredrinn preferred keeping him alive, useful, and under close observation.

"Yes, morning," Fredrinn replied casually, dismissing the man’s earlier slip with a lazy flick of his fingers. He had no interest in wasting energy browbeating the spineless diplomat today.

Jacob let out an internal breath of immense relief, seizing the lifeline like a drowning swimmer to steer the conversation as far away from his insult as humanly possible.

"It’s truly fantastic to see you up and energized, brother!" Jacob plowed ahead, stepping onto the fourth-floor landing while gesturing with his hands.

"We were beginning to grow anxious down below regarding our itinerary for the day. It’s already past noon, and we’ve burned through a considerable chunk of precious daylight. Still, if we mobilize the convoy immediately, I’m confident we can cover decent mileage before sunset."

He paused, adjusting his glasses to gauge Fredrinn’s reaction before adding practical details.

"Aadav managed to patch the bus tires that blew during the ambush. It’s a functional fix, but strictly temporary. We’ll almost certainly need to route our convoy through an industrial park or an auto repair shop nearby to salvage proper heavy-duty tires, spare parts, and the hydraulic tools he needs to fix the tires and the bus properly. Still, it should keep us running."

Fredrinn leaned his hip against the broken doorframe, tapping his knuckles against the jagged hilt of his broken blade.

"That’s solid work on the tires. Later today, we can dispatch a small, mobile strike team in a car or something to scout the surrounding blocks and sweep for mechanical tools," he said smoothly, his tone remarkably calm. "As for leaving... set that idea aside. We aren’t packing up today. In fact, we aren’t leaving this hotel for quite some time."

Jacob’s eyebrows shot up behind his spectacles, his brow furrowing into a tight knot of suppressed frustration.

A bitter, uncharitable thought immediately flared inside his mind: ’You selfish, hedonistic brute... You just want to hole up inside a luxury suite for a few more days so you can roll around naked with your harem of women!"

The biting accusation hovered right on the tip of his tongue, burning his throat. Yet Jacob clamped his jaw shut, swallowing the venom down whole.

His survival instincts remained razor-sharp.

His requirements sheet had already established that Fredrinn wasn’t some brainless, lust-crazed brawler; the man possessed high-tier intellect and ruthless battlefield instincts.

He should trust and follow the man’s strategies and ask for advices.

What Jacob failed to comprehend, however, was that Fredrinn’s decision had very little to do with carnal indulgence.

While his Incubus constitution certainly welcomed the physical pleasures of the flesh, Fredrinn was not a man to compromise long-term survival for fleeting comfort.

The true reason for anchoring their base here lay in the mysterious café.

The shopkeeper dealt in specialized artifacts and useful tools at the cost of zombie cores.

Walking away from a static merchant carrying mystical inventory was pure madness.

By establishing a forward hunting perimeter here, Fredrinn could harvest the final four cores required to clear Lust’s long-standing primary quest.

Completing that milestone would finally award him with the location of his family, something he still sought after. Especially after realizing that only 20 years had gone by on Earth.

Every logical metric dictated that remaining in this luxury fortress was the optimal move.

But, Fredrinn didn’t need to explain his decisions in a gross detail... Especially not when he still had important things to discuss inside the room...

Along with a shower, of course.

"You all should head downstairs for now," Fredrinn said calmly before focusing at the cowboy hatted man who was appointed as an acting leader in front of the crowd.

"Inform the survivors that they can unpack and get comfortable. We’re holding this ground for a while. I will be down there shortly