Chapter 126: No Help Available
Caitlin continued saying, "I'll help you manage the community using efficient management methods. If this model works well, we can even expand it to other places. It's the apocalypse, and all established systems has been in disarray. We can establish an entire kingdom if we wanted to like this. You can be king, and I'd be your right hand. What do you say?"
Steven simply smirked. With a degree from Starlight University and five years of professional experience, he wasn’t about to be beguiled by a woman flirting with pyramid schemes.
"Not interested." Steven's curt response cut through her pitch, signifying the end of the conversation.
"But..." Caitlin, fraught with urgency, attempted to press on, but Steven dismissed her with a wave.
"Spare me. We're not close, and I'm not interested in your sales pitch." Steven's unyielding look drained the color from Caitlin’s face, forcing her to stumble back, visibly deflated.
Considering the violence of last night, it wasn’t surprising that she was shaken. Seeking an alliance with Steven was likely more about securing protection than collaboration.
But Caitlin wasn’t attractive, even somewhat older, and lacked any remaining utility in Steven’s estimation. He saw no reason to offer her shelter.
"If this continues, we might all end up dead," Caitlin muttered forlornly.
Steven shot her a glance, emphasizing, "To be precise, it’s you all who might die."
They might perish, but Steven was confident he wouldn't.
Caitlin sighed in resignation.
Steven scrutinized her, intrigued by how she managed to survive on her own, "Surviving solo in the apocalypse isn't easy for a woman. Don’t you have a husband?"
Caitlin bitterly shook her head, "We divorced a long time ago."
"So, you’re on your own," Steven stated.
Caitlin shook her head again, "Not entirely. I have a daughter studying abroad in Star Country, attending a private school."
At the mention of her daughter, Caitlin’s eyes glimmered with pride.
"I've never depended on a man to get by. After the divorce, I single-handedly raised my daughter. I started at rock bottom, washing dishes and interning at a beauty salon, climbing the ladder until I became the CEO of a company on the verge of going public. I'm every bit as competent as any man! Steven, if you overlook our potential partnership because of this, the loss is all yours!"
Caitlin made one last effort to sway him.
Steven nonchalantly scratched his nose and said, "Technically, the title 'CEO' is reserved for heads of corporations. A small business owner like you..."
Caitlin’s face flushed with embarrassment. "That’s not necessarily true. There aren't strict rules excluding small business owners from calling themselves CEOs!"
Steven sighed, exasperated. It appeared Caitlin’s education barely reached high school. She couldn’t even grasp basic corporate structures yet insisted on posing as an entrepreneur.
"Never mind, keep yourself busy," Steven muttered, sidestepping Caitlin, uninterested in further disputing with a woman tangled up in pyramid schemes.
But as he looked further afield, an unexpected sight grabbed his attention. At Building 18, where Chase was in charge, the scene starkly contrasted with the other apartment complexes.
Bundled in a thick black down jacket, Chase spearheaded the effort to clear the snow. Despite his short stature and seemingly inconspicuous presence from a distance, there was an unmistakable resilience about him.
In front of Building 18, an organized hustle was apparent. Each resident worked for ten minutes before resting, with another quickly taking over in a seamless rotation.
The scene touched Steven deeply. Such cooperation in the post-apocalyptic chaos was something he thought impossible.
Drawn by curiosity, Steven ambled over and observed quietly from a distance. Before long, Chase noticed him.
"Steven? What brings you here?" Chase asked, his eyes heavily shadowed with exhaustion, his frame noticeably thinner.
Steven ignored the question. Instead, he cast his gaze over the residents of Building 18. Though weary, there was a spark of hope in their eyes—a sharp contrast to the numbed, zombified existence in other buildings.
Overcome by a mix of surprise and admiration, Steven asked, "How did you manage this?"
Chase asked, "Manage what?"
Steven elaborated, "In other buildings, they’re tearing each other apart over food. But here, it’s different. No chaos. Did you suppress information somehow?"
A proud expression crossed Chase's face. Straightening slightly as if to bolster his height, he said, "I didn't hide anything. From day one, I was transparent about the negotiations' outcomes."
This revelation caught Steven off guard. That Chase dared such openness was risky—wasn’t he worried about internal rebellion?
"With just ten portions of food, it's impossible for everyone to sustain themselves. Why didn’t they revolt?" Steven queried, puzzled.
Chase, anticipating this question, replied calmly, "Nobody here wants to descend into savagery. If we have ten portions, we share ten. If we have one, we share one."
Steven crossed his arms and sneered, "But that means you'll all die! Not one of you will survive. You think you're noble, but you're making the most foolish choice possible."
Chase fell silent, struggling against Steven’s harsh logic. He knew Steven had a point—beastly instincts were better suited for survival in such a brutal world.
Steven shook his head, losing interest in the conversation. He had come out of curiosity but had no intention of helping them survive.
As he began to walk away, Chase implored, "Steven, wait! Can you... help us?"
"Sorry, not going to happen." Steven’s reply was curt, leaving no room for negotiation.
Looking down at the shorter, older man, Steven continued indifferently, "With your skills, you could easily gather a more capable group. Share resources, ensure your survival. Instead, you’re indecisive, trying to have it all while lacking the ability to protect everyone. What you're doing is essentially criminal. You chose this path, now you have to walk it alone."
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