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Rosalia — POV

"What did you say?"

"You want to go to the hospital for dicine and leave us here alone?"

Cecil’s voice rose; he clearly never learned from his mistakes.

Does he still insist on treating Cassel like his servant?

That bastard—should I let him die sohow?

I thought this as I stared at the scene before .

After Cassel and his team had agreed on the plan in the car, it wasn’t long before we reached the intended hospital.

We hadn’t exactly arrived — we stopped at a gas station that, luckily, still had fuel. Lucky us.

You should know that at the end of the world, two things are hardest to find: fuel and dicine.

So it was a blessing to find fuel without struggle.

And because the place seed safe and was near the hospital, Cassel decided to explain his arrangents and plan to the others.

But Cecil and his father were the first to refuse.

Of course, they would refuse to let Cassel go — who else would protect them?

The others seed worried too, but they said nothing; they just nodded in agreent with Cecil.

Cecil’s handso face creased with anxiety; his previous fear of Cassel had vanished.

"Are you going to leave and my father here alone? What if the zombie horde attacks us? Or what if other people attack us—?"

"Oh, is this your nanny you and your father need?"

The comnt cut the scene.

Damn. I swear I hadn’t ant to say it out loud.

I tried to act natural while Cecil glared, his beloved clinging to him with worry.

Then I saw Henry, both hands over his mouth, laughing.

(If you’re going to laugh loudly anyway, why pretend to cover your mouth? You sly fox.)

But the unreadable, enigmatic look Cassel shot almost broke my composure.

"I... I’m sorry — sorry, I didn’t an to interfere. Please, continue your conversation."

"Hahahaha."

Henry exploded with laughter.

Screw him — my sentence wasn’t even funny. What’s with this fox? Is it fox mating season or what?

I failed to notice the faint smile forming on Cassel’s face because I was too busy staring at Henry. If looks could kill, Henry would be a thousand tis dead by now.

Then Cassel spoke.

"As Rosalia said, I’m not your nanny. I’m going because the safe base we’re heading to requires a large entry fee per person, and we need to secure supplies."

Henry’s laughter stopped; he stepped into the circle around his boss and said with a malicious, serious face, "There’s another thing — we’re responsible for gathering supplies for our team; the rest..."

Henry looked at them aningfully.

How could they not understand what he ant?

He ant their entry tickets weren’t his responsibility; they had to collect their own supplies and not rely on him.

Now not everyone could withstand that.

They were all wealthy, privileged players — how did you expect them to fight zombies and gather food and materials?

You were asking the impossible.

"You brought us here, didn’t you? Doesn’t that an you’re responsible for us?"

"Right — you must get us into the military facility and ensure our safety," an old man replied with a big, trembling voice.

They say people with big tremors are corrupt.

I would agree.

"We’re old friends of the Zancroft family; you must help us."

"I’m old and I can’t kill zombies. Do you want us dead, you villain?"

"Right, you little seed of evil, you’re worse than the zombies."

There was a lot of noise and babble.

When I heard the cruel words about Cassel I couldn’t hold back any longer.

Those scoundrels...

This ti I didn’t apologize, stop, or stay silent.

I’d been shy by nature my whole life, but I wasn’t soone who would bite my tongue in the face of vile scum.

I stepped two paces toward Henry, who stood beside Cassel.

"Give that." I put my hand on Henry’s hip and took the pistol that was tucked there.

At first, Henry tried to stop , but when I looked into his eyes, he let go of my hand and allowed to take the gun.

I’d never used a pistol, though I’d seen people carry them.

A flash of fire lit the air; I was shocked at how weak my arm felt from the recoil. Still, maybe because of the fierce anger burning in my chest and because there was soone I needed to protect, I ignored the weakness and numbness.

I stared at the gaggle of disgusting people with the sa cold look Cassel gave.

I leveled the gun forward and cald my voice to a steady tone.

"Have you had enough?"

My gaze swept over the crowd, then I let out a mocking laugh.

"You’re healthy n with all your limbs intact, so why are you acting like bloodsucking leeches when you’re human? Huh?"

"You had no right to speak in the first place. It was Cassel’s kindness that brought you here; otherwise, you’d be nothing but those corpses over there."

I glanced toward a few zombies — we heard gunshots — and they were crawling in a disturbingly quick, frightening way toward the car and where we were standing.

"Won or n, you’re responsible for your own survival. It’s not as if Cassel is your father or grandfather to take care of your filthy lives."

"Even ten-year-old Robin’s daughter helped wash dishes and tidy things yesterday — what about you? Are you dogs who know nothing but eating and defecating?"

Obviously, my words didn’t please anyone, but perhaps because of the pistol in my hand, or because Liz and the others stood with Cassel behind , no one dared reply or attack despite my threat.

"You call him a seed of evil? Good, very good" I ground my teeth, repeating what they had said to Cassel.

Then I turned my head and looked at him, saying as casually and lightly as possible:

"Cassel, there’s no need to keep greedy wolves among us. Since we’re the ’evil’ ones, it wouldn’t hurt to toss them out to the zombies, would it?"

When I said that, looks of fear and despair spread across their faces — afraid of Cassel’s gesture, because they knew he was the boss here and that he could really do it.

To be honest, I didn’t expect any reply from Cassel; I was rely venting my anger and frightening them. But I didn’t expect to hear a low hum from him, then see him look at with gentle mockery as he said, "Alright, let’s do as Rose wants."

I an —

I didn’t know whether I should tremble at his soft hum.

The intimate na Rose

Or his illuminated face...

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