"Jack wants you downstairs. He wants to have a little chat."
The voice echoed across the courtyard, loud and deliberate.
Then came a sharp metallic clang.
Bang!
A steel pipe slammed against the iron gate. The sound rang through the entire residential complex like a warning shot.
"Can’t you understand plain English?"
Another bang, harder this time.
"Jack told you to come down!"
Ethan stood motionless behind the curtain. His fingers slowly parted the fabric just enough to see.
Below, Jack Ward stood in the middle of the courtyard surrounded by more than a dozen armed men. The bald man looked completely at ease. That was what bothered Ethan the most.
He wasn’t shouting. He wasn’t pacing. He wasn’t even looking particularly angry. He simply stood there with a machete hanging loosely from one hand, as though he had already decided how this conversation was going to end.
The Desert Eagle at his waist caught the sunlight. Scratched and worn, but that only made it more dangerous. A weapon like that wasn’t hanging from Jack’s belt for show. One shot was all it would take to turn this into a bloodbath.
Ethan slowly released the curtain. His jaw tightened.
Not yet.
He wasn’t afraid of Jack in the usual sense. He was afraid of making the wrong move.
He had a sword. Jack had a gun. His men had machetes, steel pipes, and numbers. Even if Ethan somehow killed Jack, there was no guarantee he could survive the dozen men surrounding him. And if the gun went off inside the building, Debbie and Nina would be exposed immediately.
A direct fight right now was suicide.
"What should we do?"
Debbie’s voice came from behind him, quiet and strained. Real fear lived in it.
Nina was pressed tightly against her chest, the little girl’s face buried in her mother’s shoulder. She seemed to sense the tension in the room; soft, frightened noises kept escaping her.
Ethan turned.
The sight of them made something tighten hard in his chest.
He walked over and placed a hand gently on Debbie’s shoulder.
"Don’t be afraid."
His voice was calm. Steady. Almost ordinary.
"Take Nina into the bedroom."
Debbie looked up at him.
"What about you?"
"I’ll handle this."
Her expression immediately tightened.
"Ethan..."
"No matter what you hear, don’t come out." He looked straight into her eyes. "Lock the door. Stay inside until they’re gone."
Debbie hesitated. She clearly wanted to argue. But after seeing the quiet determination in his eyes, she swallowed whatever she was about to say and nodded.
"Be careful."
"I will."
She held Nina a little tighter and walked toward the bedroom. At the doorway she stopped and looked back at him one last time. Their eyes met for a brief second. Then she disappeared inside.
Click.
The bedroom door closed.
Ethan stood alone in the living room. He took a slow breath. His eyes hardened.
Debbie and Nina were his biggest vulnerabilities. Jack didn’t know that yet. Morgana probably didn’t either. But if they ever figured out how important the two of them were to him, they would become targets.
He couldn’t allow that.
He walked back to the window and pushed the curtain aside just enough to speak through the gap.
"Jack, right?" His voice carried clearly down into the courtyard. "What exactly do you want with me?"
Jack looked up. A wide grin spread across his face, yellowed teeth flashing in the sunlight.
"Can’t a man have a conversation without wanting something?"
A few of his men laughed.
Jack rested the machete against his shoulder.
"I’ve heard you’ve been doing pretty well lately. Going out every day. Coming back with supplies. Water. Food." He chuckled. "If you’re collecting resources on my territory, the least you can do is show some respect."
Ethan almost laughed under his breath.
There it is.
Exactly what he expected. They weren’t here to talk. They were here for his supplies.
He deliberately raised his voice.
"Jack, you’ve got the wrong idea. I’m just another survivor trying to stay alive. I got lucky and found some food and water. That’s all. How could I possibly be collecting supplies?"
"Lucky?"
A woman’s voice cut through the courtyard like a knife.
Morgana stepped forward. Her eyes were locked on the window—on Ethan. There was no warmth in them. Only resentment, and something that looked a lot like jealousy.
"Stop pretending, Ethan." Her voice carried clearly. "Two days ago you were practically a cripple. You could barely walk because of that broken leg. Now you’re running around outside, killing zombies, and bringing back supplies every day." She pointed up at him. "You’re hiding something."
Ethan’s expression didn’t change.
Inside, everything clicked into place.
So that’s what she wants.
Morgana wasn’t interested in the water or the food. She wanted to know how he’d recovered so quickly. She wanted his secret. And she had brought Jack here to force it out of him. If she could convince Jack that Ethan possessed some kind of special ability or valuable resource, she could use his power to take it—and maybe earn herself a better position among Jack’s people.
Ethan almost felt sorry for her.
Almost.
"Morgana, what are you talking about?" He deliberately made his voice sound confused. "I survived because I got lucky. What secret could I possibly have?"
"Enough."
Jack suddenly kicked one of the dead zombies lying near his feet. The corpse rolled across the concrete with a wet sound. His patience was clearly running thin.
"Kid, let’s stop playing games." He raised his head. "Hand over eighty percent of the supplies you’ve been hiding. Do that, and we’ll leave you alone." A few of his men exchanged excited looks. "Refuse..." He tapped the machete against his shoulder. "And this place becomes your grave."
The courtyard went silent.
Ethan’s eyes darkened.
Eighty percent.
He immediately calculated what that meant. He had a hundred barrels of water stored inside his Space Ability. Eighty percent meant eighty barrels—gone. Just like that.
Daylight robbery.
His fingers tightened slightly around the curtain. He looked down again—Jack’s men, their weapons, their positions, the Desert Eagle. Then his eyes moved to Morgana. She was staring at him with that same hateful expression.
An idea slowly formed.
It was dangerous. But it might work.
Ethan let his expression relax. Then he sighed, loud enough for them to hear.
"Since you’ve already put it that way, Jack... how could I refuse?"
Jack raised an eyebrow. He had clearly expected resistance—shouting, threats, maybe a desperate attempt to fight. Instead, Ethan was giving in.
"But eighty percent is too much," Ethan continued. "Gathering those supplies wasn’t easy. How about seventy percent?"
Jack’s expression changed slightly.
Before he could respond, Ethan added,
"I’ll give you five barrels of water and five cans of beef. For you and your guys."
The courtyard became quiet again.
Jack stared up at him. Five barrels. Five cans of beef. It wasn’t anywhere close to eighty percent, but it was more than he’d expected to get without firing a shot. His fingers tightened around the machete... then slowly relaxed.
"Heh." A grin returned to his face. "You’re a smart guy." He spun the machete once in his hand before resting it against his shoulder. "Since you’re being cooperative, I’ll return the favor." He pointed the blade toward the surrounding buildings. "If anyone gives you trouble around here, tell them Jack Ward has your back. You’re under my protection now."
Ethan’s expression remained pleasant.
Inside, he was already calculating the real cost.
Protection? More like a protection fee.
But he didn’t say it. There was no point.
Morgana, however, wasn’t nearly as satisfied. She stepped closer to Jack.
"Jack, he’s definitely hiding more than that."
Jack’s smile disappeared.
"Shut up, bitch."
Morgana froze.
Jack turned toward her, voice cold. "He’s already handing over supplies willingly. What more do you want? If we push him too hard and he decides to fight to the death, what do we gain? Nothing."
Jack understood something Morgana didn’t. Supplies were real. His authority was real. A mysterious secret was just a possibility. Right now he could walk away with food, water, and a reputation for controlling the area without firing a single bullet. That was worth more than satisfying Morgana’s curiosity.
He looked back toward the second floor.
"Throw the supplies down!"
Ethan nodded.
"Sure."
He stepped away from the window. With a thought, his Space Ability opened. Five barrels of water appeared. He walked out onto the balcony. The men below immediately looked up. Even Jack’s eyes flickered with interest.
Ethan smiled.
"Jack. Morgana and I go way back. Let her collect the supplies."
Jack frowned. He looked at Morgana, then back at Ethan. After a moment he shrugged.
"Fine."
Morgana’s eyes lit up. She hurried forward. The five barrels were secured and lowered from the balcony one by one. The moment her hands touched the first barrel, a familiar mechanical voice rang inside Ethan’s head.
[Ding! Gift detected.]
[First Gift detected. Base Return unlocked.]
[Base Return: 2x]
[Bonus Drop not triggered.]
[Reward: Mineral Water x2. Stored in Space.]
[Target cooldown: 7 days.]
Ethan’s mouth twitched.
Two.
He’d expected it. Morgana’s return was pathetic compared to Debbie’s. Still, free supplies were free supplies.
He opened his Space Ability again. Five cans of beef appeared and were lowered down. Morgana caught them.
Ethan dusted his hands.
"Alright. We’re even."
Jack waved a hand.
"Let’s move."
His men gathered around him. Within seconds the group began heading toward the entrance. Morgana followed reluctantly. But before she left, she stopped and turned around. Her eyes found Ethan’s window one last time. The hatred in them was unmistakable. So was the unwillingness. She still hadn’t gotten what she wanted.
Ethan watched until the group disappeared from sight.
Only when the courtyard finally became quiet did he lower the curtain. His shoulders relaxed. A long breath escaped him. Only then did he realize his shirt was soaked with cold sweat.
He looked down at himself.
"Fuck."
He wiped a hand across his forehead.
"That was too close."
Behind him, the bedroom door slowly opened. Debbie stepped out with Nina still in her arms. Her eyes were red. She looked toward the apartment door, then back at Ethan.
"They... they’re gone?"
"They’re gone."
Ethan nodded, but the tension didn’t leave his face.
Debbie noticed immediately.
"What is it?"
Ethan was silent for a moment. Then he looked toward the window.
"We can’t stay here anymore."
Debbie’s expression changed.
"Why?"
"Because Jack knows where we live now." Ethan’s gaze hardened. "And next time, he might not come here to negotiate."