Chapter 127 Taking the Bait
Steven dismissed Chase's plea and turned to leave.
Chase was a typical idealist. However, to realize ideals, one needed strength, not just the ability to spout lofty slogans.
Returning to Building 25, Steven happened upon Samuel and Owen. Both men were holding cigarettes, almost sucking the filters straight through their lips. As soon as they spotted Steven, they rushed over, wearing ingratiating grins.
"Mr. Rogers, taking a break today? Or did you gather all the food yesterday?" Samuel approached with a wide, eager smile, exuding unwarranted familiarity.
"I'll be going out later," Steven said with a smile.
Owen joined in, grinning. "Steven is the biggest asset to our community! Unlike those useless people," he gestured towards residents shoveling snow, "they can't even get simple tasks right, always begging for food!"
Steven laughed, "If they don't know how to work, you should teach them."
Samuel eyed the subservient residents he’d "trained" and sneered. "They’ve got two arms and two legs—what can’t they do? A good beating and they'll snap into shape!"
Turning to Steven with a cheeky grin, Samuel added, "Mr. Rogers, Kool is too strong for me! Next time, could you snag some Dunhill?"
"Dunhill? Why not Marlboro?" Owen jested. "You should be thankful for any cigarettes at all—don’t trouble Steven with your whims!"
Steven laughed, "No problem. I'll see what I can find. It shouldn’t be too hard. In these times, cigarettes are precious, but there aren't any 'better' brands. If you want Dunhill or Marlboro, that's possible, but if you ask for L&M, I might come up short!"
The three of them laughed heartily; the camaraderie palpable.
"Also, I'll try to get some good liquor for you. In this cold weather, a bit of alcohol can be a lifesaver!" Steven added.
Owen and Samuel were thrilled by Steven's words. Owen was a heavy drinker, and Samuel could handle his liquor well. The love of drinking aside, strong spirits were invaluable in this weather for keeping warm.
"Mr. Rogers, you're so generous! I misjudged you before. If you need anything, don't hesitate to call on me!" Samuel gave Steven a thumbs-up, genuinely appreciative.
Owen, not willing to be outdone, quickly added, "Steven, you're our savior! I owe you my life, and from now on, my 180-pound frame is at your service!"
Steven smiled warmly, patting their arms. "You're too kind. From now on, we're partners! We're all trying to navigate this post-apocalyptic world. Only by working together can we achieve mutual benefit. If you ever need anything, just let me know! If I can help, I will.""
With that, Steven indicated towards the exit. "I'm heading out now!"
"Take care!" Samuel and Owen chorused, almost in unison.
Steven nodded with a smile, then went to get his car and left Sunshine Community.
Owen and Samuel watched Steven's retreating figure, their expressions growing complicated. They exchanged a look—not one of camaraderie, but tacit understanding—before heading back to their respective territories.
On the walk, Samuel mulled over the situation. 'Why has Steven suddenly become so generous? Handing out cigarettes and promising liquor. Did I misjudge him before?'
Before the world turned upside down, Samuel had little interaction with Steven. Post-apocalypse, greed led him to covet Steven's snowmobile. An attempted theft and ambush ensued, resulting in Steven's retaliation against their Crazy Wolf Gang.
Samuel slapped his forehead. "Turns out, he wasn't the villain—I was. This Steven guy is decent, easy to get along with!"
A cruel smirk played on his lips. "I do love decent people."
Owen, meanwhile, was similarly deep in thought regarding Steven's newfound amicability.
‘Why the sudden chumminess? Given his capabilities, he shouldn't be scared of me. So, he must genuinely crave peace, not wanting continued conflicts. He’s probably realized that being alone, with unreliable allies, he’s vulnerable. If the fighting drags on, he might meet his end. Seems he's scared!’
Satisfied with his deduction, a smug smile crept across Owen’s face. "This is a win for me!"
Meanwhile, Steven headed to the library.
"Norwegian Wood" by Haruki Murakami captivated him with its melancholy, embodying Japan's post-war culture steeped in a somber hue.
He leisurely finished the book, closing it gently and returning it to its shelf. His introspective smile lingered—not from pretense, but a rare urge to savor a literary escape he seldom indulged in.
No reason to haul the entire library only to let it gather dust in his extradimensional space, since Steven had a tendency to buy out bookstores, only to lose interest once he had the volumes in hand.
He checked his Rolex. It was 4 PM. Time to gather food for the community.
Steven muttered, "I wonder when those guys will fall for it. I need to gradually lower their guard and find the right opportunity to strike."
He left the library, headed to the supermarket for supplies, and rode his snowmobile back to the community.
Today’s haul included several building managers, with Samuel and Owen among them, eyes locked on the woven bag at Steven's feet.
Their aim was clear—the cigarettes and liquor Steven had promised. Their presence ensured they claimed their share, avoiding conflict among subordinates over such luxuries.
Samuel and Owen knew their men could be unruly, as evidenced by yesterday's scramble for cigarettes.
Seeing them approach, Steven concealed a knowing smile. He bellowed, "Alright, everyone, line up orderly to collect your provisions!"
When the building manager from Building 1 came over, he whispered to Steven, "Steven, if you can bring cigarettes for Samuel and Owen, can you also help us out?"
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