"Um… excuse me, but what are you talking about?" I finally asked the man.
He didn't answer right away. Instead, he paused, studying me in silence while his people waited, tense but disciplined. After a few seconds, he spoke.
"Hmm… looks like I was mistaken," he muttered. "Judging by your reaction, I'd say you're one of the prepared ones, huh?"
"Prepared ones?" I echoed, confused.
"Well, anyway," the man continued, brushing off his words, "that's that. We've got to go now." He stood up and started walking toward the exit.
Troy, clearly losing patience with the man's cryptic behavior, stepped forward. "Hey! What do you think you're doing? You barge in here, say weird things out of nowhere, and now you're just leaving?"
The man stopped mid-step and glanced back at us. His calm, unreadable expression sent a chill down my spine.
"You're not yet qualified to know this," he said simply.
"Qualified? What the hell does that mean?" Troy demanded, but the man didn't answer.
He only smirked faintly. "Anyway, we're leaving. You should be thankful—we helped you. Don't start trouble over something you don't understand."
And with that, he turned and walked away with his team. The room fell silent. Troy, the soldiers, even Angel asleep beside me, and the girl whose name I still don't know—we all just stayed there, confused and uneasy. Whatever that man was talking about… it wasn't something ordinary.
Outside, as the man and his subordinates walked away, Garry called after their leader. "Boss, why didn't you tell them? That leader sounded like a good guy."
The leader paused and glanced back at the building, expression tightening. "Not yet," he said. "This information must not spread — not now." His subordinates fell silent; they knew exactly what he meant.
"Yeah, that's right," one of them agreed. "We should just finish the mission, then go home."
"Can we even go back?" the woman asked, doubt in her voice.
Leo appeared then, breaking the gloom. "What's with the long faces? Let's finish the mission quickly and get out of here."
"All right, then," the leader said. With that, the seven of them turned and walked off toward their own destination.
"Sir, what do you think about that man's words?" Troy asked as the group left the room.
I leaned back, thinking hard. From the way he said those things… it's like he knows something. Maybe about how the virus started? Or… something even deeper?
In my past life, I remembered how in the show they never explained where the virus came from. It was always just there — spreading across the world, unstoppable. But there were theories. Fans used to say there had to be a safe place somewhere, a country untouched by the infection. Some even mentioned a specific one — England... or Britain, if I remembered right. Still, no proof. Just speculation.
I shook my head, clearing the thoughts. "Let's not talk about this," I told Troy. "We'll finish what we started here, then head back home."
Troy nodded, though I could tell he was still thinking about it. "Alright, sir," he said firmly.
What the—? What's this?
When I opened my eyes, I wasn't in the safehouse anymore… I was back in an ordinary apartment. What the hell? I thought I was still in The Walking Dead! I remembered everything clearly — the news reports, the chaos, the first day I realized what world I had fallen into. But now… I was just home.
Confused, I got up and made myself some coffee to calm down. The warm aroma helped a bit, but the uneasiness didn't fade. That's when I noticed Angel — and the rescued girl from before — chasing each other around the living room, laughing.
Strange, I thought. This doesn't feel right.
Then — knock knock.
My body froze. It was supposed to be night. Who the hell would come here now?
I walked toward the door, irritation rising. "Who's disturbing me at this hour?" I muttered. The girls stopped and looked at me curiously. "Stay here," I told them, and they nodded.
When I opened the door, two men stood there — police officers.
"Sir, sorry for the disturbance, but—" one began.
Something felt wrong. My instincts screamed at me. I immediately slammed the door shut, locking it.
"Hey! Open the door!" one shouted.
Then the other yelled, "FBI! Open up! We know you have the kids!"
"What the fuck?!" I backed away, heart pounding. I turned toward the girls. "Stay there and don't move!"
Before I could react, pain exploded in my head — something struck me hard. I fell to the floor, vision spinning. My eyes darted toward the girls…
They were standing still — smiling. But then their faces melted — twisting, rotting, turning into those of walkers.
"Hehehehe…"
Their laughter warped into guttural growls.
Then everything went black.
"Ahh! What—what was that?!" I gasped, sitting up suddenly, drenched in sweat. My heart hammered in my chest.
Just a dream.
I took a deep breath, trying to calm down. "Huh… huh… it was just a weird dream," I muttered. "Looks like the stress is finally getting to me."
Angel and the rescued girl were still asleep on the couch nearby, breathing softly. Everything was normal again.
I leaned back, letting out a long sigh. "Yeah… after I come back, I should take a real break. Otherwise, dreams like that are gonna drive me crazy."
I stared at the ceiling, exhausted. "Yeah… I've decided."
Hmm… part of the reason I can't rest is because of her.
I glanced at the rescued girl, still fast asleep beside Angel. What am I supposed to do with her?
That bastard Kane… he touched her, didn't he? My jaw tightened just thinking about it. Well, he's about to learn what true suffering feels like soon enough. Plan Z isn't mercy — it's judgment.
But the real problem is… what do I do now? She's still a kid. Should I let her stay with others her age? Maybe that'll help her recover — at least give her a little piece of normalcy, if such a thing still exists. Then there's Angel… she's been through hell too.
"Ahh, what a headache," I muttered under my breath, rubbing my temples. "It's not like I'm their father or something…"
Still, they both looked so peaceful sleeping there. For a moment, the silence almost felt… warm.
Then, out of nowhere, that damn dream flashed back in my mind — the knock on the door, the shouts, 'FBI! Open up!'
I groaned, burying my face in my hands. "Seriously? That was supposed to be a meme in my last life."
A bitter chuckle escaped me. "Man… if the world's really gone to hell, at least my brain still finds time to mess with me."
I leaned back against the couch, eyes heavy again. "Yeah… what a life."
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