The atmosphere at the dinner table was heavy, the light casting somber expressions across everyone's faces.
The girls kept their heads down, silent. Zeroy's words had laid the cruel truth bare before them… the base's order was fragile, held together only by her deterrence, and she would not stay forever.
…Could they beg Zeroy to stay?
But what bargaining chip did they have to keep her protection? What right did they have to ask her to continue giving?
"..."
Zeroy noticed their unease and silence, though she did nothing to ease it. Instead, in her cold voice, she said:
"Do you think, in the next seven days, it will be enough time to build a properly functioning management system?"
"That..."
They were stunned, falling into silence, brows furrowed as they each pondered this daunting question.
After a pause, Saya adjusted her glasses and spoke with hesitation, "If we had a large supply of firearms, perhaps... it might barely maintain order."
She paused, uncertainty coloring her tone.
"But relying only on force would just be treating the symptoms, not the cause."
At that, Saeko continued the thought, turning toward Zeroy.
"You don't mean to establish rule through violence alone, do you? Those people... they can't keep restraint and principle the way you do."
Though Zeroy had ruled the base with iron-blooded methods, and more than a dozen had died by her hand in the past seven days, she had always abided by her principles—the rules and order she herself had set.
So long as one didn't cross her bottom line, she never killed indiscriminately, nor did she exploit survivors.
Her cruelty hid a core of kindness. Over these seven days, the girls had begun to notice this.
That said, could a successor do the same?
Once force was in someone else's hands, could they resist greed and desire, avoid exploiting, plundering, or even enslaving survivors?
The girls had deep doubts.
They didn't think that was what Zeroy wanted…
If that came to pass, wouldn't this survivor base degrade from a sanctuary into a hell serving the whims of a few?
"..."
Zeroy didn't respond, only traced the edge of the table with her fingers, as though weighing their answers, judging the base's future.
Her thoughts were the same as theirs.
Ruling the base with violence alone would be easy. However, what she wanted was a reasonable order.
She hadn't built this base for others to indulge themselves.
She had built it for humanity's survival.
And if the base were to become a tool to satisfy the desires of scum, then it was better gone—and humanity's survival wasn't worth it. Because to her, such scum weren't even human. That wasn't just an insult—she truly didn't see them as human.
Killing them could even trigger her [Nonhuman Killer] lifesteal effect.
She had no reason to fight for things that weren't people.
"Enough. Let's finish eating."
...
The eighth day…
After spending the night out cutting zombies, Zeroy returned to the base in the morning and summoned everyone together.
"From today, everyone leaves this base."
Expulsion. Zeroy would drive out every last person in the base.
Unable to solve the successor problem, she had decided simply not to solve it at all.
The night before, cutting down zombies, the thought had crystallized.
She couldn't guarantee what would happen to the base once she left. It was bound to become a ticking time bomb. Then the only way forward was to dismantle it now.
This wasn't her giving up on [Goal 1: Ensure the survival of humanity].
Rather, it was letting people return to the city, to find their own way to live. That way, the odds of fulfilling the goal were greater.
She had cleared out the zombies nearby—their chances of survival had greatly increased.
Look at those still in the city, who never joined the base—seven, eight days had passed, and they were still alive.
Better to spread the people out like scattered seeds than gather them in one place and risk all being wiped out at once.
Like eggs not kept in the same basket.
"You may take whatever supplies you can carry, but within seven days, you must leave. Or you die."
Shock and panic erupted in the square, whispers, gasps, and sobs colliding into chaos.
Once forced here at swordpoint, now they no longer wished to leave.
"Th-this has to be a joke… why?"
"Please! Please don't drive us out!"
A thin middle-aged man forced his way to the front, falling to his knees with a thud, hands clasped, eyes filled with despair, voice trembling with fear.
"Outside is hell! Zombies, raiders... if we go out, we're dead! The base is our only home, I beg you, let us stay!"
Then a young mother carrying a baby staggered forward, tears streaking her cheeks.
"You saved us, gave us food and shelter!"
Her choking voice carried both gratitude and confusion, while the child in her arms wailed in terror.
"Why drive us out now? Did we do something wrong? Tell us, we'll change! Just don't abandon us!
"My child... he's only three months old, he won't survive!"
Not everyone begged.
A burly man shoved through the crowd, fists clenched, eyes blazing, voice booming, "This base was built together, how dare you throw us out?!"
"You used us up, now you want to toss us away like trash? I spit on that! We're not leaving!"
"Who are you to decide if we live or die? You locked us in here before, now you shove us into the fire pit?!"
"We were wrong! We won't slack off again!"
Another greasy-faced man suddenly dropped to his knees, forehead thudding against the ground. "Whatever you say, we'll obey! Supply distribution, patrol shifts—we'll follow your orders!"
Several survivors beside him kowtowed in turn.
"Liar! You're just toying with us!"
A shrill female voice cut through the crowd. A bandaged girl was shoved forward, trembling as she pointed at Zeroy, "You said this was a shelter, and now you drive us out! You just want us dead! You're a monster!"
Crying, cursing, pleading—the chaos surged without end.
...
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