Void Reaper: The Essence Apocalypse

Chapter 59 59: These are survival conditions

Adam flushed crimson in an instant, the veins at his temples starting to throb at Leon's words. He was just about to snap back when Marek spoke first.

"Alright. Easy," Marek said, looking at Leon seriously, but without hostility. "You don't have to start threatening people with a knife right away. That…" He shot a brief glance at Adam. "Horny mutt does say stupid things a lot, that's true. But honestly? I don't think suddenly cutting food rations is a good idea either. People are barely holding it together mentally. Decisions like that could push them over the edge."

Elena, clutching the cat tightly to her chest, looked at Leon with visible tension. Her fingers curled slightly into the animal's fur. She hadn't expected this from him at all. Leon had always seemed cold and distant to her, the type who stayed on the sidelines and avoided unnecessary conflict. And now he was standing there, blade drawn, threatening someone from their own group and speaking with open contempt. It left her shaken.

"The arrogance…" Adam snapped suddenly. There was more wounded pride than fear in his voice as he stared at Leon. "Talking like you're some kind of god, after spending the last three days licking your wounds like a stray dog in the street."

Something flickered in Leon's eyes.

A chill slid into his gaze as his passive skill, Cold Mind, activated almost automatically, trying to suppress the violent surge of emotions swelling inside his head. His mood was, put mildly, terrible. For three days he'd been trapped in the gym, forced into idleness, listening to the endless whining of ordinary students who, instead of adapting, preferred to blame the people actually doing something. They expected others to handle their safety, comfort, and future for them. On top of that came thoughts of his family, images he didn't want to see, yet couldn't stop from resurfacing, feeding his frustration, his anger, and the crushing sense that the world itself was a burden someone was trying to dump into his hands.

Leon had already opened his mouth to respond when Natalia's cold voice cut through the air like a blade.

"I agree with Leon," she said calmly. "We'll do it his way."

Everyone turned toward her at once.

Shock was written across every face. Even Leon froze for a fraction of a second, not expecting Natalia to accept his proposal so easily, without protest, especially given how controversial it sounded in their current situation.

"Natalia…" Adam spun toward her, staring in disbelief. "Do you even hear what you're saying?"

There was more than disagreement in his voice, there was desperation and confusion. He'd had feelings for her for years and knew her as frighteningly intelligent, but also arrogant and unwaveringly confident. That was exactly why he couldn't understand how she could accept an idea that seemed so dangerous, given the fragile mental state of the people in the shelter.

Natalia only shook her head slightly, offering no explanation yet. She could see it clearly, Leon had been unbearable since morning, tense as a drawn wire. After Adam's last remark, there was a real risk that if she didn't intervene now, things would spiral out of control and someone would get seriously hurt. Internal conflict was the last thing they could afford, especially when every day brought new problems from outside.

"I agree with what you said," she finally said, calm but cool, meeting Leon's eyes directly. "But I need you to explain exactly what you mean."

She paused, then added in a matter-of-fact tone, like someone trying to cool a room thick with tension.

"Everyone here is in terrible psychological shape. The situation outside is getting worse by the day. We have no contact with the police, the military, or the government, and that only fuels the fear. If we suddenly tell people their meals are being restricted, no one will take that calmly."

Leon, who had already stepped a few paces away from Adam, slowly turned toward the rest. His voice was still hard, but noticeably more controlled thanks to his passive skill.

"I don't want everyone rushing out to fight," he said plainly.

Natalia nodded almost immediately. A wave of relief passed through the room, most of them had feared exactly that. Deep down, even she exhaled quietly. If Leon had truly insisted on sending everyone out to fight for food, she would've had to stop him, even if it meant throwing him out of the shelter. Most people simply weren't mentally ready to risk their lives yet, and this new world demanded time to adapt.

Leon continued, calmer now, as if organizing his thoughts as he spoke.

"My idea is simple. The six of us can't gather enough food on our own. Even if we can fight, we physically can't carry that much. We all only have two hands."

He looked over the gathered faces one by one.

"So when we find food, students, teachers, and civilians who can't fight will carry it. Same goes for clothes and other necessities. They can help with logistics without risking their lives."

He paused briefly, then added,

"I also think we should get beds or mattresses. We can't keep sleeping on the floor forever."

After a moment of silence, he finished more quietly,

"If someone doesn't want to fight, they can help in other ways. Logistics. Carrying supplies. Cleaning. Securing the area. If they want to eat their fill, they have to contribute something. Not everyone needs to risk their life, but no one gets to stand aside and just wait."

For a few seconds, no one spoke.

"That makes sense," Marek said at last, nodding first. "Without people to carry things, we can't do anything anyway."

Elena nodded too, hugging the cat a little tighter.

"I… I agree as well," she added softly.

Natalia remained silent for a moment, weighing the consequences, potential conflicts, and people's reactions. Then she slowly nodded.

"I agree," she said.

Adam opened his mouth, clearly wanting to add something, maybe protest again, maybe salvage what was left of his pride. But after a few seconds of silence, he had to admit to himself that Leon's plan wasn't stupid, cruel, or even particularly radical. It was simply logical. And despite his earlier anger and bruised ego, he wasn't blind or stubborn enough to argue just because the idea came from someone he currently despised.

So he said nothing.

One by one, the others in the room nodded as well, some quickly, others with visible hesitation. Leon's suggestion was accepted, because even those who felt uneasy understood there was no real alternative. Feeding over a hundred people with no system in place would sooner or later lead to disaster.

The problem came a moment later, when the decision was announced to everyone else.

Complaints flooded the hall almost instantly, but this time they weren't just a shapeless murmur. Individual voices broke through, overlapping and clashing, forming a chaotic cacophony of fear, anger, and raw human panic.

"What does he think he's doing?!" someone shouted from the back. "We barely survived, and now he wants to take our food?!"

"Exactly!" a woman cried, clutching the sleeve of her jacket. "Not everyone can fight! This is insane!"

"It's inhuman!" someone yelled from another side. "First they save us, and now they want us working like slaves!"

"Easy for him to say," a man leaning against the wall snorted. "He's got his daggers, his powers, who knows what else. And us? What do we have…bare hands?!"

"This has to be a joke…" a girl whispered to her friend. "They can't just force us like this."

"They're acting like tyrants," someone spat onto the floor. "I thought this was a shelter, not a labor camp."

"And if we refuse?" a nervous voice asked. "What… are they going to throw us outside?!"

"Let them try to make me," an older man growled. "I worked my whole life, and now some punk's going to tell me how much I can eat?!"

"It's not fair…" someone sobbed. "It's already bad enough…"

"We're all victims!" another voice shouted. "And they're acting like they're better than us!"

The voices kept rising, some breaking off, others turning into shouting, curses, accusations hurled at no one in particular. Fear always needed a target, and right now the easiest ones to blame were those with weapons, strength, and the courage to make decisions.

"I didn't sign up for this!" someone near the exit screamed. "No one asked me!"

"Exactly!" another answered. "And now they want to dictate how we live?!"

"This is sick…" the words repeated, louder and louder. "This is sick…"

And then Leon, who had stood in silence the entire time, not reacting to a single word, began walking toward the doors. His steps, calm and heavy, cut through the chaos, one after another, until the conversations began to die out on their own as people turned to look at him.

Leon reached the metal doors leading outside and swung them wide open. A cold gust of air rushed in, carrying the stench of dampness, blood, and rot.

He gestured toward the exit.

"Be my guest," he said calmly. "If you don't like it, no one's keeping you here. You're free to leave at any time. No one will stop you."

As if the world itself responded instantly, a hoarse roar echoed from outside. A second later, one of the zombies burst around the corner of the building, sprinting straight toward the open doors, its feet scraping against the concrete.

Leon didn't even step back.

In one smooth motion, he drew his dagger, stepped forward, and severed the creature's head as cleanly as if performing a routine task. The body collapsed lifelessly right on the gym's threshold, blood spreading in a thin line across the floor.

No comment.

No glance at the onlookers.

Leon simply closed the doors, as if nothing had happened, like he hadn't just shown them, in the simplest way possible, what the world outside really was.

All the courage, outrage, and indignation vanished in an instant.

The hall fell so silent that only breathing could be heard. The same mouths that had been shouting about tyranny moments ago now stared wordlessly at the bloodstain by the threshold, as if only now they truly understood what "leaving" meant.

Leon turned slowly.

"This isn't punishment," he said at last, firm but without anger. "These are survival conditions. If we want to stay alive, everyone has to contribute something. Even if it's just carrying boxes."