Chapter 64 Releasing the Malice in the Heart
Steven could accept Elinor, but she had to help him accomplish some tasks.
His requirements were simple: she had to be useful, non-threatening, and crucially, not overly kind-hearted.
Steven was confident about the first two points.
But he wanted to know if Elinor could make rational decisions in critical moments.
So, he assigned Elinor a task.
Elinor didn't respond to Steven immediately; clearly, she was hesitating, too.
Steven wasn't in a hurry; after all, time was on his side.
If Elinor couldn't pass this test, Steven would decisively abandon her.
After all, he was in good health, with a low probability of getting sick.
He also wouldn't go out casually, so his risk of injury was very low.
But how long Elinor could live was uncertain.
The next day, Steven slept until ten in the morning.
He pulled off the velvet blanket and went to the bathroom to wash up.
Then, he changed into workout clothes and started exercising on the treadmill.
In the post-apocalyptic world, good physical fitness was extremely important.
Having a strong physique allowed one to better cope with danger and avoid illness.
Steven sweated profusely on the treadmill, running for an hour before stopping.
Then he took a hot shower.
While showering, Steven felt a sense of pride.
One had to know, such an enjoyment was an unimaginable luxury for many people nowadays!
At that moment, a series of loud bangs suddenly sounded outside.
Steven quickly wrapped a towel around himself and went out.
He soon heard a string of curses from Paul.
Steven turned on the surveillance and saw Paul outside the door, holding two kitchen knives and frantically hacking at his door.
“Steven, come out! You hide in your house all day, you're a piece of trash!”
Steven smirked, "Yes, yes, you're absolutely right."
"And then?" he provoked.
Steven found Paul laughable, a piece of trash who couldn't even survive, still trying to trick Steven into coming out.
Steven noticed that Paul was using his left hand to smash the door, while his right hand had difficulty even lifting.
He knew then that Paul's arm was already infected.
Looking closely, he could even see Paul's arm swollen.
Steven walked to the door, hands in his pockets, and said calmly, "Paul, being infected doesn't feel good, does it?"
“My biology teacher once taught us about wound infections.”
“The tetanus bacteria on rust enters your wound, and it’s like maggots finding a corpse, starting to reproduce frantically.”
“Your arm wound must be several inches deep.”
“The temperature outside is cold, but your flesh is warm. The bacteria are frantically reproducing on that warm bed, eating away at your flesh.”
“Then the wound starts to fester, oozing black liquid. The bacteria multiply, and your wound gets bigger. Eventually, they travel through your bloodstream, spreading throughout your body!”
Steven vividly described it, and Paul felt his arm hurt even more after hearing it.
He broke out in a cold sweat, feeling as if his entire body was swarming with bacteria, ready to consume him.
Even though he knew Steven was deliberately scaring him, he couldn't suppress the fear inside.
“Aaaaah!! Steven, I'll kill you!”
“Aaaaah!! Steven, I'll kill you!” Paul had gone mad. His arm was indeed rotting, and he knew he was doomed.
So he wanted to make one last attempt, but this visit was destined to be in vain.
In the next room, Andrew's men heard Paul's frantic screams and asked, "Should we kill him?"
Andrew thought for a moment and said, "Didn't you hear he's already infected and dying? Would you dare eat the meat of someone who died from an infection?"
Everyone looked at each other and ultimately decided not to take the risk.
Paul hacked at the door for a while, cursing loudly.
Finally, he got tired and collapsed in front of Steven's door, crying and begging Steven to save him.
Steven coldly said, "You're doomed. Your wound is rotten; it's too late for me to save you. You might as well do the things you didn't dare to do while you were alive before you die."
Paul's eyes filled with tears, and he fell into deeper despair after hearing Steven's words.
Was he really going to die?
Fear enveloped him like an abyss.
But what followed was anger, immense anger!
I'm going to die anyway; I'm not afraid of anything!
He struggled to get up and kicked Steven's iron door hard. He wanted to curse, but the door was so hard that the pain almost made him faint.
Paul didn't care about that anymore. He staggered up the stairs and ran back to his place.
When he got back, his eyes were unfocused, and he vaguely saw Larry using a candle to heat a knife and then burn his wound.
The sound of burning fat accompanied by smoke, Larry's eyes bulged, and even though he was biting a blanket, he still let out a painful howl.
He seemed to think that this would kill all the bacteria.
Ignorant and pitiful.
“Paul…” Grace looked at Paul with concern, not knowing how to comfort him.
She knew Paul wouldn't last long; she could smell the rotting stench from several people in the house every day.
People weren't dead yet, but their bodies were already rotting. The depth of this pain was unimaginable to ordinary people!
Paul ignored Grace and rushed to the room where Alice was being held.
Alice screamed in fright when she saw Paul.
“Pa...Paul? What are you doing?”
Paul walked up to Alice, his bloodshot eyes staring at her. “Alice, will you marry me?”
This poor man, even as his life was nearing its end, his greatest wish was to marry Alice.
In the post-apocalyptic world, this request was both laughable and pitifully humble.
Alice frowned, her eyes filled with disdain.
She instinctively pinched her nose, "No, I won't!"
Paul's heart shattered. He had given so much for Alice, even his life was on the line.
But Alice had never felt a single spark for him from the beginning.
“No!! You love me, you love me! I want you, before I die, I want you to be my woman!” Paul lost his mind. He couldn't accept that he had given so much but got nothing in return!
If he couldn't have it, then he would destroy it!
The people outside heard the commotion inside but didn't intervene.
To them, Alice was the culprit for their current plight; she deserved to die!
“Get away, you stink, it's disgusting!”
Alice shouted.
“You dare call me stinky?”
Paul was furious. He suddenly tore off the bandage on his arm.
His wound was now swollen, black and purple, festering horribly.
He did something horrifying; he used his hand to grab the rotten wound and then stuffed the rotten flesh into Alice's mouth.
“Call me stinky, will you? Call me stinky!”
Alice retched uncontrollably, but Paul still managed to shove a handful of rotten flesh into her mouth.
Paul grinned, feeling an unprecedented sense of satisfaction as he watched his goddess being humiliated by him.
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