Apocalyptic Rebirth: With a repairman system space, she rises again.-Chapter 457: She made a nun cry.

It was the start of another week, which meant another meeting of the core team of Fortress four. They met in the new boardroom in the third wall which was two times bigger than the previous one.

Maps, ration ledgers, sketches and other documents lay scattered across the large oak and glass table which Sheldon had donated out of the kindness of his heart.

A thing everyone doubted.

At the head sat Sunshine and at her right side, Hades. Ariel sat beside her in a chair that was too tall and too big for his age. His fingers traced over numbers with a frown of a seasoned accountant that didn’t like what he was seeing.

Before the meeting could begin, Sunshine decided to tackle potential problems. A nun and a priest Two people whose compassion was both a gift and a burden. Their presence in these meeting was always debated by others.

Sunshine rose, her boots scraping against the concrete floor. "Sister Anna," she said firmly. "The issue we are discussing today is something that might bring tears to your eyes and make you remind us all that we could be riding a train to hell. The committee must weigh survival against mercy. I cannot have your compassion clouding this meeting."

Sister Anna’s lips trembled. "Mrs. Quinn, mercy is not a cloud, it is the light. Without it, we are no better than bandits and murderers who are causing pain beyond our walls."

Sunshine remained resolute. "Nevertheless, you will not attend this meeting. From now on, I will extend an invitation to you when your voice is necessary. We must talk with reason today...only reason."

Sister Anna looked to her brother Carson for help. He shrugged. When she looked at Father Nicodemus, he remained silent as well.

Her lips trembled, tears slipping silently down her cheeks. She turned and walked out, her rosary clinking faintly in the silence.

Sunshine then turned to Father Nicodemus. The priest was calm, his white robes sparkled brighter than the halos painted in cathedral glass. Beneath them, he wore an iron shirt and a solar bodysuit. His wings curled around his chest like a guardian’s shield forged of light.

"Father," she said, "you remain. But I must ask that you stay neutral. Can you speak without bringing up the word mercy?"

The priest raised his wings. "I will speak only what I see. I have long learned that some things are best left unsaid, except for when one is talking to God."

Hadrian groaned.

Sunshine studied the priest for a short moment and nodded. "Good enough. You may stay."

Lisha couldn’t help bursting in with a mild chuckle. "You made a nun cry. Only you Suni...only you."

Some people laughed.

Carson sighed.

Sunshine gestured for everyone to settle before raising her hand and ordering for silence.

"Before we begin tackling the problems on the base, we must decide on another matter. Lately, we have had many survivors camping at the edge of our territory. We need to decide if we should send aid to the zones beyond our territory and when to open our market to outsiders. Both things carry risks for us. However, both will shape out future and survival in the long run."

Ariel cleared his throat, his voice small but steady. "This matter affects our supply deposits. I know that you will all be worried about it and that is why I am here. We have enough grain for four years, medicine for six, and power that can last longer than that. Whatever help we decide to send means cutting our supplies significantly in such unstable times."

Voice rose in distress immediately.

"We cannot send grain; how will we survive?"

"Can’t we wait until the crops in Busker grow? We can only help if we have a food source."

"Let the billionaires do it. We all know they have private grains that they are hoarding."

Warren leaned forward, his fists clenched. "Aid weakens us. Every sack of grain, bottle of water, fuel or medicine we send out is a weapon lost. These people could be scouts for whoever is running Ferry Island. Rumor has it that it a very powerful superhuman."

"How are they even reaching us? Isn’t the bridge connecting Ferry Island to Westbrook broken?" Rori asked.

Hades also pitched in. "My wife and I have struggled with this issue. Bandits smell weakness. If word spreads that we give aid freely, they will come knocking with weapons and greed."

Dr. Choi, as the head of the medics on the committee shook his head. "We have received some footage from Miss Lisha of the survivors outside that seemed off. From what we can tell, some of them are sick. They have symptoms of the red disease. If we do nothing, the disease will spread into our territory. Hunger breeds desperation. If we feed them, maybe they will go away."

"What a naive thing to say." Dominic chimed in over a video call.

Everyone looked at the monitor where those who could not attend in person were sharing their opinions from where they were in the other towns. Dominic was right there in Westbrook, but he could not leave the house because Leah was out with others that were hunting.

Some people smiled when they saw him feeding Ala porridge with a spoon, blowing on it first like he was feeding a baby.

"They have no reason to go away if we feed them." He looked up and added. "In fact, they will spread the words, and more survivors will come. Naturally, the good will be mixed with the bad.

If we open our markets at such a time, we risk being invaded. The walls around the towns are still being built. I say we throw out some tear gas canisters and send them all away, temporarily."

From a tiny box on the screen, Jon gasped. "Wait a minute. As the spokesperson for the billionaire businessmen, I object to that suggestion. An open market means we are back in business. Outsiders will bring goods we don’t have, and we can sell them what we have. Trade strengthens us."

Father Nicodemus snorted.

Many heads turned his way.

"Care to share, priest." Sheldon’s voice came first before his head popped up behind Jon.

Jon hissed at Sheldon. "I told you to stay out of sight."

Meanwhile, Father Nicodemus spread his wings, shaking them out like they were exhausted from being in one position for too long. "We are discussing aid, and you are clearly thinking of a different objective. You want to amass wealth at the expense of the safety of everyone else."

Jon snorted. "The wealth you so easily disdain is the same wealth paying for those iron shirts you wear. The boots and uniforms of the soldiers. The supplements you superhumans eat. Sunshine is using money in her research. We contribute our money to this research by buying her products at a higher cost than the rest of you.

In turn, she makes things cheap for the rest of you. If our pockets run dry, we will not be able to contribute financially to Sunshine’s pockets on a large scale. Prices of things will increase drastically around here. Let’s see how much aid a poor priest can provide then."

"He should have been kicked out with the nun." Sheldon muttered.