Apocalypse: I'm Bound to a Mobile Lottery Shop

Chapter 287: Chapter 287: Struggle Session

He tentatively picked up a piece of shrimp paste. The table instantly fell silent, everyone’s gaze following his chopsticks. Owen Warren looked utterly confused.

"Why are you all staring at me? Eat!" Owen Warren said, exasperated. He popped the shrimp paste into his mouth and chewed a couple of times. It was so springy and chewy, and for some reason, it reminded him of Boss Hart’s flesh.

The finger he’d had in his mouth that day had been just as soft, tender, and springy. And just as delicious. He was craving Lily Hart.

But since he couldn’t have her, he had to settle for shrimp paste.

Everyone was using serving chopsticks, so there was no issue of anyone’s saliva getting into the pot.

Everyone watched him eat the shrimp paste, their brows furrowed slightly. The man—no, the zombie—was still perfectly fine, completely unharmed.

It seemed zombies could eat human food; they just preferred to eat humans.

So Lily Hart came to an agreement with Owen Warren. "From now on, I won’t buy you those other things. You’ll just eat with us." ’Once you’ve had delicious food, you won’t be so fixated on me anymore~’

Owen Warren seemed to read her mind. A smile played on his lips as he gave a perfunctory nod. "Alright, fine. I’ll eat with you."

’Heh heh.’

Lily Hart took a huge bite of a fatty beef roll drenched in sesame sauce. It was so good she wanted to cry. ’How can food be this delicious?’

While things were lively in the lottery shop over a hotpot feast, Central Command was once again convening a meeting.

The meeting’s main agenda was to censure Quincy Shaw.

Brian Booker’s voice was cold. "I hear Elder Shaw broke into the warehouse without permission and took more than half of the supplies?"

Chad Yates added aggressively, "I never realized Elder Shaw was such an unreasonable man."

The other two leaders watched on coldly. All four of them were targeting Quincy Shaw, but the man himself was cleaning out his ear, acting as if he hadn’t heard a thing.

Below them, Logan Holland, Yael Lowell, and Peter Sharp looked furious, wishing they could speak up for Elder Shaw. It had been raining for so long; if they didn’t take action, the dikes were bound to break.

’What would happen then to the survivors living on both sides of the river? Would they just be abandoned again?’

’It would be one thing if they weren’t discussing these urgent matters, but instead, they’re just relentlessly targeting Elder Shaw, berating him for taking supplies from the warehouse.’

’Good God! When is Central Command going to finally collapse?’

Seeing Quincy Shaw cleaning his ear as if he couldn’t hear them, Chad Yates’s anger flared. He slammed his hand on the table and roared, "Quincy Shaw, we’re talking to you!"

A flicker of impatience crossed Elder Shaw’s eyes. ’I miss Fred.’

He looked up at Chad Yates as if watching a posturing clown and said flatly, "Mm. Go on, I’m listening."

Chad Yates felt like he’d just punched a bale of cotton. He had a whole speech prepared, but now, faced with those unflappable eyes, the words caught in his throat.

"You!" Chad Yates was furious.

Quincy Shaw shrugged. "Anything else? If not, I’m leaving." He then rose to his feet.

No one spoke for a moment. The Elder Shaw of the past, despite holding military power, had always been mild-mannered. Not like now, where he was ready to snap at anyone and everyone.

He gave off a devil-may-care vibe, like he had nothing left to lose and was ready to just say, ’To hell with it, I quit.’

"Stop! What about the supplies you took from the warehouse yesterday?" Chad Yates shot to his feet. ’He gets to do the good deed and walk away with all the credit.’

’And I get nothing.’

Elder Shaw turned, his eyes and expression turning to ice. He retorted, "What about them? Those are Central Command’s supplies. Did you think they were your personal property?"

"Have I embezzled a single penny? Have I used any of those supplies on myself? Open your damn eyes and see where those sandbags and medicines went!"

He didn’t shout. He simply stated the facts in a level voice. When he finished, he cast a disappointed glance at everyone present, then turned and walked away.

’For these higher-ups, life has always been too easy. They get their monthly Crystal Core and food stipends and never have to go outside to face the zombies.’

’Over time, they started to think the world was at peace, and their personal greed became impossible to hide. How much they skimmed from the annual budget, he didn’t know...’

’He only knew that Central Command wasn’t improving. In fact, it was getting worse every year.’

For a long time, no one in the conference room spoke. Chad Yates was left speechless by the tirade, and the last shred of conscience in his heart seemed to stir.

But it was quickly buried under an avalanche of desire. He loved being admired by the masses, loved being respected wherever he went.

Logan Holland, Yael Lowell, and Peter Sharp quickly rose and left, ignoring the astonished, questioning, and resentful stares from the other leaders. ’It’s better to get out of this hellhole,’ they thought.

"Elder Shaw!" Logan Holland shouted, catching up to Quincy Shaw, who was walking slowly ahead. The old man turned around quickly, a warm smile on his face.

"What is it?" Seeing the three of them chase after him, his heart warmed. ’This means they’ve decided to stand against the other leaders.’

Logan Holland took Elder Shaw’s arm to support him, chuckling. "Nothing. We’ll walk with you." At the same time, he began reporting on the day’s work.

"We’ve reinforced the dikes, the injured survivors have all been settled, and the houses will be repaired once the rain stops. We also brewed ginger soup. Every survivor who got caught in the rain had a bowl to ward off the flu."

Logan Holland listed their accomplishments one by one. As Elder Shaw listened, a grin spread across his face and never left. ’It’s people like this who will build the future...’

He praised them cheerfully, "Well done, truly well done!"

They had done everything they could. All that was left was to wait for the rain to stop.

Lily Hart was waiting, too. She propped her chin in her hands, gazing outside. "How much longer is this rain going to last?" she lamented.

The night before last, all of yesterday, and now all of today. Lily Hart was growing impatient staring at the unchanging curtain of rain.

But there was nothing to be done. It wasn’t like she could yell at the sky to make it stop.

Then again, it had its upsides. Rainy days kept everyone indoors, and even The Mysterious Clan had gone quiet. Lily Hart was torn; she wanted the rain to stop so she could get customers, but she also didn’t want it to stop, because that meant people would come looking for trouble.

Just as she was lost in thought, a dilapidated car appeared before her, looking just like the one from the morning.

Same car, same scene, except this time there were four people instead of three. As they all dashed for the RV, Lily Hart numbly moved to block them at the entrance.

When she saw the fourth person was Elder Shaw, she silently handed him a towel and let him in. She didn’t look nearly as pleased to see the other three.

She crossed her arms, jiggling one leg impatiently. "What are you all doing here again?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Finished all your work at the Command?"

Elder Shaw took the towel, wiped the rain from his hair, and sat down in a chair, watching them with a smile.

Logan Holland said cheerfully, "We came to see you, Boss Hart! Long time no see, long time no see."

As he spoke, he grabbed a towel from a nearby table and expertly started drying himself off, unable to stop a smile from spreading across his face whenever he looked at Lily Hart.

Lily Hart stopped teasing them and turned toward the sofa. "Just don’t get my floor dirty."

The three exchanged a look. They knew she was all bark and no bite. They quickly took off their shoes, dried themselves off, and stepped inside.

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