My 100th Rebirth a day before the Apocalypse - Chapter 917

917: Chapter 917 Ancestor Stop Working 917: Chapter 917 Ancestor Stop Working “And judging by the unusually low number of zombies in this area, my speculation is that this one is already halfway there… controlling the surrounding horde according to its will, keeping them from getting too close to the shelter.” He let his words hang in the air, forcing everyone to grasp the gravity of the situation.

The silence that followed was suffocating, and even Vulture-usually steady as stone-felt unease coil in his chest.

“Are you certain?” Vulture asked, his voice low and husky, the weight of his seriousness cutting through the room.

“Seventy percent,” Sparrow replied without hesitation.

Then, in the same measured tone, he continued, “Given how this mutated zombie moves, thinks, and reacts, it no longer fits the information Adam and the others provided in the mission notice.” “We can assume it hasn’t just grown stronger and faster, but it has also become more intelligent.

Which means this isn’t something we can take down on our own.

We’ll likely need the Young Madam’s help to eliminate it.” He paused briefly before pressing on, his words as casual as if he were commenting on the weather.

“Until she receives the message and responds, our priority is to protect this shelter, keep it from being overrun, and prevent a massacre.” “If this creature truly is as intelligent as it seems, once it realizes reinforcements have arrived, it may lash out, send a zombie wave in fury.

If that happens, we’ll have to hold the line as best we can.

And should the Young Madam choose not to intervene, which is unlikely, then we’ll have no choice but to handle it ourselves… but the casualties will be high.” After all, a Zombie King-or even the possibility of one-meant disaster.

Such a creature could command a horde and unleash a wave powerful enough to topple a shelter of this size with ease.

If what Sparrow said was true, then they were already as good as dead.

Fear drained the color from everyone’s faces, and the second-in-command’s mouth opened and closed soundlessly, unable to form words as the weight of that possibility crashed over him.

It was only after a long, suffocating silence that he finally managed to speak, his voice hoarse with desperation.

“Is… the Young Madam you’re talking about the City Lord of your base?

Is she strong?” It was as if all his hope now rested on the unknown strength of HOPE Base’s City Lord.

Hearing this, Vulture grinned as if Sparrow’s grim words about their chances of dying on this mission hadn’t registered at all.

“She’s stronger than all of us combined,” he said with pride, his tone swelling as though he were boasting about himself.

The second-in-command, however, looked unconvinced.

To him, Vulture’s words sounded more like empty comfort meant to soothe their fears.

After all, how could anyone feel reassured when Sparrow had already crushed their hopes with the harsh truth?

But why had Sparrow revealed it so openly?

He could have easily sent word back to their base in secret and let the Young Madam deal with the threat discreetly, avoiding unnecessary panic.

Yet he chose not to.

The reason was simple: he wanted them to feel the weight of reality, that their lives were already dangling over the grave, and facing this mutated zombie was a risk no bounty could justify.

But more than that, this was a chance to let their City Lord’s strength be known.

If they fought here, if Kisha’s power was displayed in full, the survivors themselves would spread the story.

That way, HOPE Base’s reputation would travel far and wide, and everyone would learn that their City Lord and Vice City Lord were not people to be trifled with.

After all, if HOPE base claimed such strength on their own, it would only sound like bragging.

But if others spoke of it as witnesses, the story would carry weight.

People would believe it, and they would think twice before trying to scheme against HOPE Base.

In this way, the shelter would not only understand how grave their situation truly was, but once the threat was resolved, they would feel an even deeper gratitude toward HOPE Base.

In short, it was another layer of psychological warfare, a carefully placed reminder to ensure these people understood exactly who they were dealing with.

“Alright, we’ll go with your plan.

Everyone’s already in position-if there’s any movement here, we’ll let you know,” Vulture replied.

After that, Sparrow fell silent, likely trying to connect with the base to get Kisha’s opinion on the matter.

At that moment, however, Kisha was still inside her Territory Space.

These days, she spends more and more time there; it was simply the most efficient way to maximize her efforts.

By now, she had produced an abundance of Stamina Boosters and Magic Scrolls, enough to fully stock her Sales Channel Store.

Currently, she was taking a rare moment of rest, watching Marcus work on the farm.

He was busy harvesting chilis and chili peppers of various types, including a few rare strains of Spiritual Chilis.

Since these crops were especially valuable in extreme cold weather for their ability to warm the body, Kisha decided to lend a hand, carefully picking the Spiritual Chilis herself.

“City Lord, you don’t need to lift a hand.

Let us handle the work,” Marcus said, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the towel draped around his neck.

He stretched his back and rolled his hips a few times to ease the ache from working nonstop.

Nearby, some of the women from Hugo’s team were also busy harvesting the crops.

“Don’t mind me, I’m just doing this to de-stress,” Kisha replied casually.

Her words puzzled them.

To the others, farming was hard labor, a livelihood, and the source of their food.

But for someone like Kisha, who had the luxury of time and resources, farming was also a way to clear the mind and find calm.

There was a quiet joy in planting, nurturing, harvesting, and finally tasting the fruits of your own effort, an experience far more fulfilling than simply buying something others had grown.

By now, Kisha was already wondering what dishes she could make with the freshly harvested chilis.

Soon, however, she grew tired of picking them by hand.

Settling herself at the side of the field, she shifted her approach, using her telekinesis instead.

In an instant, dozens of chilis began to float gently into the air, moving swiftly yet precisely under her control.

The work became astonishingly faster.

Within just an hour, she had cleared several acres, not only of chilis but also of leafy greens, eggplants, and other crops.

Her single effort far outpaced the yield of more than a dozen workers combined, making her contribution both efficient and overwhelming in scale.

Marcus glanced at Kisha with mixed emotions, a wry thought crossing his mind.

‘Ancestor, please stop working… if you keep this up, I’ll lose my job.

You’re making me feel useless.’ He looked around and noticed that most of the fields were already cleared, ready for new seedlings to be planted.

With a more diverse selection of vegetables, they could cultivate a wider variety of crops.

His gaze shifted toward the rice paddies he had planted earlier.

Deciding to tend to them, Marcus went to the irrigation system and opened the channel, letting water flow steadily into the field.

Kisha, curious, watched him closely.

Other than the rice, there was nothing else in the paddies.

Fortunately, inside her Territory Space, she never had to worry about pests or insects destroying the crops; the farm space had its own natural pest-repelling mechanism.

Still, she walked over to Marcus and made a suggestion.

“Why don’t we raise some conch, loaches, small fish, or even crabs in the rice fields?

They’d enrich the environment, fertilize the soil with their waste, and help keep it soft as they move around.” Everything she mentioned was indeed beneficial; most farmers used such methods to naturally control pests and maintain their fields.

But here, where no insect dared to touch her crops, her proposal almost sounded unnecessary.

But for Kisha, it wasn’t just about improving the rice paddies; the conches, loaches, crabs, and fish raised there would have a unique taste of their own.

She imagined that after a few days, she could enjoy some of them herself.

After all, such food wasn’t easy to come by anymore and could even be considered a rare delicacy in certain provinces.

Her mouth almost watered as she thought of it: tender conch simmered in creamy coconut milk with plenty of garlic, ginger, and just the right kick of chili; stir-fried crablets crisped to perfection; and fresh, savory crabs.

The thought alone made her crave it, and she realized it had been far too long since she’d last enjoyed such dishes.

Thinking about Kisha’s proposal, Marcus stood by the open irrigation channel, weighing it over.

He was no stranger to her idea; in fact, it reminded him of how they used to farm.

They would raise crabs in the rice paddies and let ducks roam freely to feed on locusts, keeping the pests under control.

CREATORS’ THOUGHTS GoddessKM Please ADD <MY 100th REBIRTH A DAY BEFORE THE APOCALYPSE> to your LIBRARY to be notified when the update is posted.

Thank you!!!

Please don’t forget to cheer me up by voting with Powerstone and Golden Ticket!

Your gift is the motivation for my creation.

Give me more motivation!

Also, I might get delayed in the update as I am also updating my new novel < THE RETURN OF THE CANNON FODDER TRILLION HEIRESS>