Cassel — POV
My tolerance for Henry ends at accepting that he might harbor certain feelings for Rosalia.
But even tolerance has its limits.
Sparing his life despite those thoughts was my final act of rcy.
Thinking about sothing is one thing.
Acting on it is sothing entirely different.
If Henry ever decided to confess or, worse, attempt to steal my woman... then I would never forgive him, even if he died for my sake once—no, even if he died for a thousand tis.
From the very beginning, Rosalia was never so commodity to barter for his loyalty or sacrifice.
I will never give her to him, no matter what.
In this life, I might let go of many things—but not her.
My light. My hope. My everything.
----
We locked eyes for two more seconds—two silent, wordless seconds—before he wisely turned away to help the guards unload supplies.
My attention shifted to the massive black gate looming over us. Its tal was still too clean, too smooth—clearly installed recently. City B had always been enclosed by thick outer walls—one of the reasons it had been such a popular tourist city before all of this started.
But it had never been sealed.
Not like this.
Not until the apocalypse arrived two weeks ago.
This level of restriction ant one thing: survival had beco a luxury.
Fine.
That worked for .
I needed a safe place to grow my power, to build what I hadn’t been able to before.
Last ti, this city nearly killed .
If not for General Zan...
I would’ve died a thousand tis.
But this ti—
This ti would be different.
"With the number of people you have, and the value of the supplies and dicine you’re carrying," a guard barked, "we’ll be taking seventy percent. If you agree, you can pay and proceed inside."
Seventy percent.
The nerve.
"What? Seventy percent? Why don’t you just rob us outright?"
"Right, we have several crates of dical supplies and crates of at and vegetables—enough to feed a hundred people for two weeks at least—and you want most of it as a toll? Are you kidding us?"
"Boss, don’t give them anything! Forget it, we’ll go sowhere else!"
"Yeah, I can’t believe there isn’t another safe base."
My subordinates’ voices rose like a wave of outrage.
I didn’t react.
I already knew these bastards at the gate were greedy.
I had been expecting this exact encounter.
"What are you barking for?"
"You’re just servants and guards. Who asked for your opinions?"
Then another bastard decided to show up.
Cecil.
Dressed in flashy clothes and a watch that held absolutely no value in this ruined world, he strutted like soone still trying to impress society with money that no longer existed.
Was he stupid?
Or was he enjoying being mocked for flaunting shiny garbage no one cared about anymore?
Many people had left our group earlier, choosing to enter the city ahead of us when we stayed behind for Rosalia. But Cecil and his father had refused to leave my side.
That alone told everything.
I knew how narrow-minded these people were.
They should’ve run away the mont the opportunity presented itself. Yet here they were.
A quick glance at the woman clinging to Cecil’s arm told exactly why.
Beautiful, clever, calculating.
She always had a talent for finding the richest prey, the strongest support, the best host to latch onto.
I didn’t care.
Since the mont of my rebirth, humans like them were nothing more than ants to —transparent, predictable, incapable of threatening in any real way.
Suddenly, a small hand grabbed mine.
I turned—and found Rosalia beside , her brows furrowed, her mouth pressed in a thin line.
Jealous.
The delicate girl stood there radiating cold fury, her grip tight around my hand as if warning not to look elsewhere.
Ah...
So she could be possessive too.
Those answers weren’t that useless after all.
I pretended not to notice her jealousy and returned my attention to Cecil—who puffed out his chest and declared:
"We accept. But on one condition—you must allow our car to pass."
He pointed toward the vehicle behind him—the one carrying his father and driver.
So that was his goal.
Not surprising.
A car in the apocalypse was valuable—mobility, freedom, ergency escape.
His tone was commanding, but not a single person moved.
Not one.
His face darkened like thunderclouds.
He must have felt humiliated.
Good.
Ever since I made it clear I wanted nothing to do with the father and son, my subordinates had followed my lead and treated them like air.
Watching his expression twist was almost enjoyable...
Until he began cursing and spitting at people like a feral animal.
My amusent evaporated.
I stared at him, cold and serious, until his disgusting noise finally died.
Silence fell.
Then the woman with the guards stepped forward.
"It seems you’re the boss here," she said. "So, will you pay and enter the city, or not?"
She looked at with bright, expectant eyes.
Of course, I needed to enter the city.
If I wanted to rule it—if I wanted to beco its leader—this was the first step.
"Of course we’ll pay."
The guards lit up with greedy excitent.
I smiled coldly.
"But the cars are another matter. These vehicles are mine. I won’t hand them over to anyone. Either you let keep them... or I’ll hide them outside."
Their faces twisted instantly.
Anyone with working eyes could tell my jeeps were special-issue military models—reinforced tal, bulletproof glass, high durability. They were designed to protect before the apocalypse.
Did they really think I’d leave such vehicles lying around for them to steal?
Supplies? Fine.
But cars?
Never.
"I don’t think that should be a problem... right?" I asked softly.
Could they refuse?
Of course not.
Despite their sour expressions, the guards nodded and agreed.
As long as the cars didn’t enter the base, they claid they didn’t care what belonged to whom.
Idiots.
What they didn’t know was that I already had multiple vehicles stored in my portable space—several jeeps and trucks.
Henry and I had hidden them earlier in an isolated area, far beyond anyone’s reach.
Now I had only two jeeps and one normal truck left.
And even those—I wouldn’t let anyone take.
In this life, aside from Rosalia, no one would ever claim anything that belonged to .
Not a car.
Not a weapon.
Not a breath.
Not even a single inch.
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