Everyone in the community—whether standing at the door or watching from the wall—stared at T-dog in shock. They all knew it usually took at least two people to take down a walker like that.
Gale, who had been happy to see the grandson of his best friend, froze when he witnessed the man's skill. He vaguely remembered that even soldiers couldn't stand up to walkers like that.
T-dog's blows were powerful, like strikes from a sledgehammer. The force he generated was tremendous, and crushing the head of an old walker didn't take much effort. Still, that much was to be expected from someone like T-dog.
Jason deeply regretted T-dog's death in the original story—no one but Carl remembered him long afterward. He knew that if the man had survived just a few more days, he would've become a true survivor. And Jason hadn't been wrong to think that.
Watching T-dog smash those walkers now made Jason happy—happy to know that many people had made it this far because of their own choices. He wasn't an exceptional man, but he always tried to make moments like these possible.
As for shooting, no one from Gale's shelter dared to do so at all. Not only did they have very few bullets left, but opening fire with their poor aim would've just wasted precious resources.
It had happened before—whenever walkers heard gunfire, ten of them would come rushing from every corner straight to the shelter's gate.
Later, like any other survivors, they learned to be smarter—relying on the walls of their small base. But very few people survived whenever they went out searching for supplies. Without the stimulation of living humans, the number of walkers around the survivor base had decreased.
Now, as soon as this new group appeared, the sound of their engines attracted many hidden walkers—but they wiped them out easily, which left everyone stunned.
But if anyone was truly surprised, it was Logan. He quickly introduced Jason's group, claiming he hadn't known just how skilled they were at eliminating walkers.
"Gale, these men are the group that saved me at a shopping mall. Jason is their leader—the man over there. If it weren't for their help, I wouldn't have lasted much longer on my own."
At this point, Luke had approached the gate with Daryl and Negan right behind him, watching every movement of both the people inside the gate and those standing on the wall.
"I'm sure you've had a hard time. I hope my arrival isn't inconvenient," Jason said with a modest smile.
"Of course not, haha!" Gale replied, though he wasn't as optimistic as his friend's grandson. He cautiously looked at the few people stepping out of the Humvees, noting that two remained inside—one manning the machine gun and the other behind the wheel. Still, he fixed his gaze back on Jason and smiled.
"Thank you very much for saving my friend's grandson. You can call me Gale. We'll bring you some food right now to reward your effort and great help."
"No, Mr. Gale, although it's true they came here because of me—"
"I didn't know that. What brings you to us?"
The old man's attitude was strange, but Gale didn't say much. "Saving the living is a duty for me and my people. And Logan's a good young man we met by chance. Shouldn't we look out for each other?"
"Mutual care, old man? I think this shit will interest you and your people a lot," Negan said with a wide grin.
"We're going to do great things in Birmingham, so it'd be good if you were aware—and obviously, on our side."
Upon hearing those sharp words, Gale's expression didn't change at all, as if he didn't understand the underlying meaning.
"Heh, Mr. Jason, you're a good man. I don't have much to offer. We're short on food, and we can't give you many weapons either. But I'll do my best to cooperate in whatever you need. For now, the least we can do is let you eat something."
Daryl, who heard the old man's words, spoke with a hint of irritation: "We don't need your food. What's with that attitude? We saved that kid, and now you're shooing us away like we're a bunch of damn thieves."
Jason was sure the other side understood, but for some reason, they didn't want contact. Why exactly, he couldn't tell yet.
As things grew tense, a few more people came out of the gate—obviously younger and stronger men.
Anywhere else, their appearance wouldn't have made Jason feel uneasy, but now, after Gale had just shown his dislike for outsiders—like Oceanside's last leader—and with more men coming out, Jason grew alert.
The few people who appeared wore smiles, their eyes lingering briefly on the armored vehicle before scanning everyone's gear and weapons, then finally turning their gaze to Jason.
Their leader seemed to notice that Jason was in charge. He stepped forward enthusiastically and stretched out his hand from a few meters away, clearly wanting to shake hands.
"This guy just fucked us with his eyes—did you feel that, Daryl?" Negan muttered with a grin. This time, he wasn't holding his bat but a huge automatic rifle.
"Welcome, everyone. I'm one of the guards here. You can call me Snow. It looks like your group has been out for a long time. If you're looking for a place to stay, our community can take you in."
Just as this man named Snow made his offer, Jason clearly noticed a change in Gale's expression. He seemed hesitant—he opened his mouth but couldn't say anything.
There's a fly in the cake!
The attitudes of these two men were completely opposite. Judging by the current situation, the two groups must have been at odds. So what made them enemies? Opinions? Interests? Or something else?
Many thoughts crossed Jason's mind at once, but only for a moment—the others didn't notice anything strange as he calmly replied, "You're mistaken. Our purpose for coming here is over. We're leaving now."
Snow shook his head, waved his index finger, and murmured, "No, no, no. I don't think you understand the point here. Let me tell you why you have to stay."
He paused and gave a mysterious smile. "That's because—"
"Wait, Snow!"
Interrupted mid-sentence, Snow frowned in slight annoyance and turned his gaze toward Gale, who had shouted over him.
"What's the matter, Gale? Got something else to say?"
Apparently, Gale was one of the leaders of this shelter, and Snow had just cut him off right as he was about to speak.
"You know the rules. I don't need to say more, do I?"
"I know!"
After receiving a firm reply, several people entered the courtyard gate, satisfied. Gale sighed in relief.
He ignored his best friend's confused nephew beside him and walked straight toward the armored vehicle outside the base gate.
"Listen, you can't be allowed in. I'll prepare some supplies for a few of you, and I hope you'll take them and leave."
As the two of them entered through the courtyard gate, Jason's group finally had the chance to talk quietly among themselves.
Negan was the first to speak. "Can't they see the size of my gun?"
"Jason, looks like a lot's going on here. Do we get involved?" Daryl murmured, looking for Jason's answer.
"That guy named Snow seems like the freak of the base. Aren't we supposed to take all of Birmingham anyway?"
"Since we don't know what's going on here yet, let's find out first."
The group unconsciously glanced at his hand, where a small insect lay still.
"Everyone get ready—they might be enemies. I want Abraham informed. Have the cleanup team move closer to this area."
"Yes, boss!"