Apocalyptic Rebirth: With a repairman system space, she rises again. - Chapter 347

Chapter 347: Bad seeds.
Her smile faltered. The happiness she had brought along turned into a veil of gloom. “What do you mean not viable? Sheldon said his seeds were tested to grow_ he said they would survive under all weather conditions.”

“I know.” Dr. Sing replied with patience.

“He said they tested them in a desert under extreme conditions and they sprouted.” She added.

Dr. Sing nodded. “Yes, they can sprout. They grow into seedlings quickly which is very impressive and a scientific breakthrough. But….” He gestured towards the tray and the soil which had small green budding plants that looked too weak to survive the smallest wind. “They die before maturing. The roots begin to rot as soon as they reach a certain point. The cell structures break down completely. They are practically useless for long term cultivation.”

Sunshine stepped closer, staring down at the fragile green shoots. Up close, she could see that some had turned a sickly yellow, others lay collapsed against the soil. It felt like looking at a dying promise.

Her voice trembled slightly, though she forced herself to keep it even. “I really thought we could plant them in Busker and miraculously fix the world food problem.”

“I am sorry.” Dr. Sing said in his calm voice. “Sheldon and his team must have seen them sprout and automatically thought they had achieved success. If I am not wrong in my assumption, the breakthrough must have been a very recent one. If they had gone on for a while before the apocalypse arrived, maybe they would have learned this.”

Or maybe Sheldon knew the truth and kept it a secret, Sunshine thought. But if that was the case, the man would not have sold them with such arrogance. Dr. Sing was right; Sheldon was not aware that his resource which he was the most confident in was as useless as a chicken thigh in the hands of a baby.

For a long moment, Sunshine said nothing. The disappointment hit harder than she expected, and worse was that she had bought them expensively. The thought of how much she had lost on the deal clawed at her insides.

She took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders, and said, “We’ll find a way, we always will.” She had planted some seeds in the space, maybe there was hope for those ones.

“Yes, we will.” Dr. Sing said, a rueful smile formed on his face as he watched her leave, defiance in every step she took.

Sunshine went home, straight to her bedroom and into the living section of the space. The sight she was met with made her jaw drop in disbelief. Where she had planted seeds now rows of green swayed.

The seeds had not just sprouted, they had matured! The same ones she got from Sheldon which Dr. Sing had declared useless. They weren’t just surviving; they were thriving. Thick green vines crawled up in the soil beds, their leaves broad and glossy. Some ripe with fruit that had even fallen to the ground.

Her eyes widened. “This….” she whispered. “System….please explain how this is possible. Did you do something and not tell me about it?”

[The soil composition in this biosphere is fundamentally different from terrestrial soil. It contains microbial agents, living catalysts that sustain accelerated growth and prevent decomposition. Their interaction with seed enzymes enhances nutrient absorption.]

“I do not understand some of what you just said, I am just happy that I can grow food here.”

Sunshine walked to the field to explore to get an up-close look. She touched one of the maize cobs first as it was nearest. The size and smell were familiar but stronger than what she was used to.

Her eyes became rounder as she realized that she had a solution to her problem. “I am going to plant more seeds here. What comes from here can be grown in Busker.”

“System, can I upgrade seeds?”

[Anything can be graded.]

************

The White house had long ceased to be a symbol of power. What once gleamed like a beacon to the world now stood as a charred skeleton against the grey sky_ its bones on marble blackened, it’s windows hollow and sagging.

The outside was devoid of human life; it had been that way since the fire incident.

Snow dripped through the cracked through the ceiling of the oval office, the watchers that monitored every inch of the building _ had lost interest. Silence ruled now, heavy and absolute.

Yet beneath the ground, life clung on.

There were people that remained alive_ trapped inside the bunker that once was their salvation but had now become their prison. The flames from Alena Croft’s fire assault had liquefied the door frame, fusing the bunker steel doors to the wall. No key, no code, no tool could open it from inside.

For the first days they had tried everything. Lugard was the one that led the desperate efforts. They used drills, rods, physical shoving, slamming hard things against it. Nothing worked.

Even the guns failed to work.

Today, they were attempting to blow it open using explosives from the armory. Everyone was nervous. Death was a possibility. But the thought of being stuck underground forever was scarier. Eventually, food and water would run out. Oxygen too. Death is all that would be waiting for them.

Those involved found hiding places and Lugard pulled the trigger. An explosion loud enough to shatter eardrums went off. The bunker walls nearly shuddered, coughing out flakes of soot. But when they came out to see the results, disappointment was what awaited them.

On realizing the futility of their struggle, tempers started to flare. Accusations were being hurled back and forth.

“Stop with the noise!” Ceaser commanded in a tough voice.

Lugard wiped sweat. “Sir….I am sure we can break it down.”

“This is your fault!” One soldier shouted at Lugard, dropping the drill. “You people in government are the ones that made this place indestructible. Now we are all going to die down here.”

Ceaser sneered. “And that is how you have been able to stay alive for this long, dumb ass.”

“We would not be in this position if you had not sent people into the mist.” Someone shouted.

More voices were raised.

A boy tugged at his mother’s clothes. “Mom, I am hungry.” His mother closed her eyes, listening to the sounds of arguments echoing in the confined space. How would she help her son? Food was now rationed with precision_ a handful of rice or whatever they decided to give them and a cup of recycled water per meal.

If they did not kill each other, hunger would kill them first.

Ceaser was bored out of his mind, he found the arguing tiresome and irking. All he wanted was peace of mind, to read a book without being disturbed. He had already given up on breaking the door open from the inside.

They had food and water. If managed properly, it would take them for some years. Eventually, someone would make their way to the White house and find the bunker.

Or maybe someone in their midst would awaken and burst them out. He hoped to be that someone. But until then, it was a waiting game, and he would continue fighting the urge to slaughter everyone and get some peace.