Chapter 122: We All Have a Bright Future
The rat poison at the vet's shop was a hit, their shelves brimming with it. Soon enough, Steven gathered two sizable boxes, amounting to more than thirty bottles of the lethal concoction.
With this stash, poisoning three hundred people should be a breeze. Even if it didn't kill them outright, it would at least wreck their organs. Without treatment, they would be goners.A sinister smile curled on his lips as he examined the small vial in his hand.
So they expected him, Steven, to help gather food? Well, if they were so cavalier with their lives, he had no qualms.
However, there was no rush to poison them. Initially, they would be wary, using others as unwitting guinea pigs. But could they sustain such vigilance indefinitely?
Steven didn't think so, especially with the current food shortage.
He had verified that the poison took only ten to thirty minutes to manifest its effects. Even if they had someone test the meals, not everyone knew this crucial detail.
'I'll find the right opportunity to poison you all; that's the best outcome!' he thought.
He stowed the rat poison securely in his extradimensional space, feeling a surge of crafty satisfaction.
With his lethal cargo secured, Steven resisted the urge to rush back. After all, he had to maintain the illusion of having scoured far and wide for those three hundred portions of food.
Stepping out of the veterinary clinic, Steven cast a discerning eye over the line of shops flanking the street, filled with racks of shoddy clothing and undergarments. An insidious idea germinated in his mind.
He didn't need clothes, but he did need fuel. Most of these clothes were made of synthetic fibers, which were harmful when burned, producing thick, black smoke. When the time came, they would be ideal for flushing out those cowards holed up in buildings.
Steven's eyes lit up with malevolent delight, feeling a perverse sense of genius in his destructive ingenuity. There was an innate talent for chaos in every man, honed since boyhood. The prospect of setting a grand conflagration without fear of repercussion thrilled him to the core.
'After all, who isn’t a troublemaker at heart?' he mused aloud.
Wasting no time, Steven deployed his extradimensional storage, methodically sweeping up the piles of random garments. Within moments, countless items from dozens of stores vanished into his hidden cache.He didn't overindulge; he took only what he needed for fuel. Any more would be superfluous. Besides, hoarding a mountain of women's lingerie would brand him a pervert, and that wasn’t the image he was keen to cultivate.
With the day's light waning, Steven redirected his attention to the nearby Walmart in the development zone. Procuring 300 portions of food from its vast inventory was child's play. This stash would sustain him for months—enough to ensure basic survival, though not luxury. After all, his goal was merely sustenance, not satisfaction.
Steven packed the junk food into woven sacks, then procured two sturdy sheets of metal, fastening them to the rear of his snowmobile to craft a makeshift sled. Once all was set, he revved up and made his way back to the Sunshine Community.
It was nearing five in the evening, the encroaching dusk casting the deserted neighborhood in shadow. He knew the community’s outdoor work hours were limited—there was no way they toiled all day.
Proceeding with caution, Steven unsheathed his firearm, engaging the safety as he surveyed the scene. The snow was pocked with excavation pits, the remnants of their labor mounded at the periphery.
Steven estimated from the amount of labor that they must have been working for at least two or three hours.
"That's about right. With the scarcity of clothing and food, working for so long must have drained their energy," he observed coldly, as if discussing a matter of no real consequence to him.
"I can't wait to see their faces when they realize they've toiled all day for nothing," he added, his tone as cold as the winter air around them.
Taking out his phone, Steven summoned Henry, Walter, and Dennis, instructing them to gather their people and come armed. They arrived swiftly, weapons in hand, eyes widening at the sight of the food haul. Walter couldn't hide his astonishment. "Steven, where did you get all this food?"
Suspicion rippled through the group. Steven had never brought back such a bounty before. His usual haul barely covered thirty portions, but this time he had tenfold that amount. Murmurs of dissatisfaction began to spread; it seemed they believed he had been stockpiling to control their rations.
Nonchalantly, Steven continued to coordinate with the building managers via his phone, directing them to send people to collect the food. "I ventured further out this time. The city's vast, and the greater the distance, the higher the risk. I avoided those areas in the past, but desperate times call for desperate measures."
A nod from a neighbor affirmed his point. "Steven risks his life every day to find food. It's no small feat."
"Agreed. If his vehicle ever broke down out there, he'd be in serious trouble," another commented.
Dennis scrutinized Steven, his frown hinting at lingering doubt, though he remained silent, his grip on his weapon firm.
Before long, the arrival of people from other buildings drew Steven's derision—they were subordinates, not the managers themselves, clearly wary of a potential trap.
"Right," Steven announced, not bothering to mask his disdain. "Building One, come forward and collect your food."
He ripped open the woven bags, revealing large plastic sacks inside, each holding enough food for ten people. He hefted one sack and hurled it into the snow ten feet away, leaving them to fetch it themselves. They collected the food in silence, departing swiftly.
Once the supplies were distributed, Steven organized the residents of Building 25 in the hallway, handing out provisions. Faces that had been etched with worry began to brighten with relief.
His demeanor softened, offering a rare smile. "There's no need to be on edge constantly. Keep your weapons close, but we've caught a glimpse of hope. A brighter future awaits us."
Neighbors exchanged hopeful glances. If this promise held true, their complaints about daily labor would vanish.
With a final clap, Steven dismissed them. "Alright, everyone, go back and rest. We have more work tomorrow."
That night, for the first time in ages, the residents could relax and relish a hearty meal.
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