My 100th Rebirth a day before the Apocalypse - Chapter 922

Chapter 922: Chapter 922 A Pitiful Child
As Kisha watched, countless flashes of light lit up the battlefield, streaking toward the incoming zombie wave, abilities unleashed by the awakened ability users.

「Two Hours Earlier」

Sparrow had tried to contact HOPE Base, but every attempt failed. He was wracking his brain for a way to send a message quickly, because the longer he remained in that place, the heavier his chest felt.

It was the same suffocating dread he once experienced when he faced the mutated tree. Back then, he had ignored the warning and charged ahead, nearly losing his life. Now, with that brush against death still etched into him, he had learned to recognize the feeling for what it was: a premonition of danger.

Perched on the rooftop, acting as the eyes for Vulture and the others, Sparrow kept watch over the shelter from a distance. His gaze swept beyond, searching for threats, but the streets held only a few scattered zombies. The mutated zombie that had disappeared into the forest still hadn’t returned, which only deepened his unease.

He felt as if he were sitting on pins and needles. Without any visual on the mutated zombie, paranoia gnawed at him—anything could happen the moment he looked away. Unable to shake the unease, he finally grabbed his radio and keyed it on.

“Vulture, over.”

“I’m here, over.”

“I lost sight of the mutated zombie, and I’ve got a really bad feeling about this. I tried connecting to the base, but my signal just won’t go through. Do you think Young Madam’s family has a way to reach her?” Sparrow asked.

She was the only one he could think of, after all, he’d seen their Young Madam pull out countless mysterious items no one could explain. If she had let her beloved grandparents and younger brother join this mission without hesitation, it likely meant she had more safeguards in place than just life-saving talismans. Perhaps even a way for her family to contact her in times of danger.

“I’ll ask around,” Vulture replied, nodding as his voice came through the radio. “For now, keep your eyes on the shelter from above.” With that, he glanced around the meeting room, gave the second-in-command a nod, and went off in search of Keith.

Keith, who was with his grandparents speaking to the survivors, finally saw just how different life was outside their hidden base and HOPE Base. Here in Adam’s shelter, the situation was grim.

Although the population was not that large, the only structure they had was a single kindergarten building, nowhere near the size of a proper school, with just a few floors. Most people had no choice but to sleep on the cold, hard ground, lucky if they managed to find a blanket thick enough to dull the chill seeping into their bodies.

Supply runs were rare and dangerous. Whenever they ventured out, food always came first; clothing and other necessities were considered luxuries, nearly impossible to secure, and it wasn’t because there were no such supplies to be found outside but because they didn’t have the time to gather such supplies aside from the food.

It wasn’t that the streets outside looked swarmed with zombies; in fact, they often seemed strangely empty, but the moment anyone tried to move further out, the undead would appear as though watching and waiting for their chance to strike.

Only Adam’s team had the strength to go far for supplies; the rest could barely manage routine patrols around the perimeter before facing sudden attacks.

More than that, everyone in the shelter was dirty, their skin and clothes coated in layers of blackened dust and grime. With water and electricity gone long ago, washing up was a luxury they could no longer afford.

When the scorching heat pressed down, they had no choice but to retreat into the basement, and when the bitter cold set in, they huddled together just to keep warm. Even the children, usually a source of energy and laughter, looked weary and subdued, so different from the lively kids in HOPE Base.

And yet, this was already an improvement compared to before Adam and the others discovered HOPE Base. Back then, desperation had driven these people to the point of stripping bark from trees in the back forest, boiling it just to stave off hunger.

Grandma Alden’s heart ached as she took in the sight of the shelter’s survivors, especially the children and the frail elderly among them. Compassion welled up inside her, but so did a sobering realization: if her granddaughter Kisha hadn’t been so capable, their family might have ended up in the same state.

In truth, in their past lives, that was exactly what had happened. Because Kisha struggled to earn system points and was constantly pushed to the frontlines by the missions forced upon her, her grandparents and younger brother had lived in conditions no better than these survivors.

Her grandparents, believing themselves to be a burden, often chose to give up on living just so Kisha wouldn’t have to risk her life scavenging supplies from the most dangerous places just to keep them alive.

Worse still, those whom Kisha had saved in those lives would use her family against her, blackmailing her, threatening her, exploiting her love and sense of responsibility.

Keith glanced around the shelter. The place was tidy, the furniture pushed aside to make space, with flattened cardboard laid across the floor so the children wouldn’t have to sleep directly on the cold ground.

The adults, however, have to make do with whatever they can, giving up their comfort so that the few available blankets can be reserved for the little ones.

Keith rubbed the tip of his nose, a heaviness settling in his chest. Coming here had given him a deeper understanding of how other survivors lived, how harsh and unforgiving life was outside HOPE Base.

But more than pity, what he felt most was pride. Pride in his sister, who had not only managed to raise the standard of living in HOPE Base but also quietly supported the hidden base without its people ever realizing just how much they owed her.

Keith’s eyes fell on a little girl sitting off to the side, her small frame curled up with her face buried in her knees as she sniffled quietly. She looked so pitiful that Keith couldn’t help but walk over and crouch down beside her.

A pang of memory hit him; he, too, had once been like this child, small and helpless, and his heart softened.

“Little girl, why are you crying?” he asked gently, pulling a chocolate bar from his pocket. “Here, have my sweets. They say sweets make girls smile, so… I hope you smile too.”

But instead of brightening, the girl lifted her tear-streaked face, saw the kind, handsome stranger in front of her, and promptly burst into even louder sobs.

Keith froze, flustered. Heads were already starting to turn his way. He panicked, waving his hands quickly. “W–Wait, kid, I didn’t do anything! Why are you crying?” he blurted out.

He wanted to retreat before anyone accused him of bullying a child, but at the same time, his conscience wouldn’t let him abandon the little girl, who couldn’t have been more than five.

“M-My dad was taken away by the monster outside… and he’s not coming back anymore… Huhuhu, I’m so sad…” the little girl sobbed, her face streaked with tears and snot.

It seemed the person she was talking about was the very man Sparrow had seen dragged into the forest earlier. The girl had only overheard the adults whispering, but it was enough to shatter her world.

She had been waiting eagerly for her father to finish his shift so she could cuddle with him, but instead of warm arms and comfort, she was met with devastating news.

Earlier, she had cried so hard she nearly hyperventilated, and despite the adults’ attempts to soothe her, nothing worked. In the end, with everyone overwhelmed by their own burdens, they had no choice but to leave her be until she calmed down on her own.

“Oh…” Keith was stumped. He didn’t know what to say or how to comfort such a young child. All his life, it had always been his sister who comforted him, his emotional anchor ever since she was adopted by their grandparents.

“Kid, don’t cry,” he said gently. “Your dad is a hero. He did his best to protect you and your friends, and right now… he must be watching over you from the heavens. So, stop crying, okay? Otherwise, your father would be heartbroken seeing you like this.”

Those were the very same words Kisha had once told him when he was little, when his mother died protecting him from his father’s beating. Saying them now to the girl stirred something deep inside him, making his nose tingle and his eyes sting with unshed tears.

“Really? Is my dad like Superman now?” the little girl asked between sniffles. She didn’t fully understand, but she grasped the heart of Keith’s words, that her father had gone up to heaven, maybe to be with her mother.