Common Sense Hijack System-Chapter 124

Karl climbed the stairs to the upper floor, keeping his steps light. When he reached the door, he knocked softly.

"Amber? Chloe? It’s me, Karl."

There was a brief shuffle before the door creaked open. Amber stood there, her face pale and her hair disheveled. "Karl... thanks for coming." Her voice was weak, barely above a whisper.

Karl stepped inside, and the state of the room hit him immediately. It was dimly lit, the curtains drawn, and the air felt stale. A few empty plates and bottles were scattered on the small table, and Chloe was slumped on the couch, wrapped in a blanket. She looked even worse than Amber—her face pale and her movements sluggish. frёewebηovel.cѳm

"What’s going on?" Karl asked, his tone calm but concerned.

Amber gestured for him to sit. "We’ve been feeling awful the past few days," she explained, sinking into a chair. "At first, we thought it was just a cold or something, but it’s not going away. And... we ran out of food."

Karl frowned, glancing at Chloe. "Why didn’t you say something sooner?"

Amber looked away, embarrassed. "We didn’t want to bother anyone. And honestly, I thought we could handle it, but..." She trailed off, her voice trembling slightly.

Karl sighed and stood up, scanning the room. It was clear they hadn’t had the energy to take care of themselves. "Alright, first things first. You both need food and probably some medicine. How bad is it?"

Amber shrugged weakly. "Mostly fever and nausea. Chloe’s been having a harder time eating anything. We just need something light—maybe soup."

Chloe nodded faintly but didn’t say a word, her eyes half-closed.

"Got it," Karl said. "Stay here and rest. I’ll bring some food up in a bit."

"Thanks, Karl," Amber said softly, her gratitude evident.

Karl gave a short nod and left the room, closing the door behind him. As he walked back down to his apartment, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt. He should’ve checked on them sooner.

When he reached his unit, Layla was already waiting. "How are they?" she asked.

"Sick and out of food," Karl replied. "They need something warm to eat and maybe some medicine. I’ll whip up something simple and bring it to them."

"I’ll help," Layla offered, already heading to the kitchen.

Together, they worked quickly to prepare a pot of soup and pack a few essentials—water, crackers, and some pain relievers. Within half an hour, Karl was back upstairs, balancing the tray of food as he knocked on the door again.

Amber opened it, looking surprised. "You’re fast."

"I don’t waste time," Karl said, stepping inside. He set the tray down on the table and poured some soup into a bowl. "Here. Eat slowly. It’ll help."

Amber nodded, taking the bowl with shaky hands. "You didn’t have to go to all this trouble."

"It’s no trouble," Karl said firmly. "Just focus on getting better."

He glanced at Chloe, who was now sitting up slightly, her eyes brighter than before. "You too, Chloe. Try to eat something, even if it’s just a little."

Chloe gave him a faint smile. "Thanks, Karl. Really."

Karl stayed a little longer to make sure they started eating, then stood to leave. "I’ll check on you both tomorrow. If you need anything else, let me know."

Amber nodded, her expression softening. "Thanks again, Karl. We owe you."

"You don’t owe me anything," Karl said, giving her a reassuring nod before heading back downstairs.

As he returned to his apartment, he felt a small sense of relief knowing they’d be okay for now. But in the back of his mind, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something about this situation was far from over.

Karl walked back to his apartment, carrying the empty dishes he’d used to bring food to Chloe and Amber. His steps were heavy, his thoughts even heavier. He couldn’t shake the memory that kept clawing at the back of his mind—the memory of when Chloe and Amber had tried to kill him.

The irony of the situation hit him like a cold slap to the face. He had just helped two people who, not too long ago, would have gladly watched him bleed out. And yet, here he was, cooking for them, worrying about their health.

As he stepped into his apartment, Layla was waiting for him near the door.

"Are they okay now?" she asked, her voice full of genuine concern.

Karl set the dishes on the counter, avoiding her gaze. "Yeah. They’re eating. They just need rest and a little time to recover."

Layla smiled softly. "That’s good. You’re really kind, you know that? Not everyone would go out of their way like this."

Karl forced a small nod, but her words only added to the weight in his chest. Kind? Was that really what this was? Or was it something else?

As Layla walked back to the living room, Karl leaned against the counter, gripping its edge tightly. His jaw clenched as fragments of that dark memory resurfaced—the cold expressions on Chloe and Amber’s faces, the way they had cornered him, the unshakable certainty that they wanted him dead.

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. Why am I doing this? he thought. Why am I helping them?

The answer didn’t come, but the bitterness lingered. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was something deeper, something he didn’t want to admit.

Karl pushed himself away from the counter and walked to the window, staring out at the dim city lights. His reflection stared back at him, tired and uncertain.

"Kindness, huh?" he muttered under his breath. "Maybe it’s just stupidity."

He knew he couldn’t let his guard down. Chloe and Amber might look helpless now, but he couldn’t forget what they had done—or tried to do. Trusting them completely would be a mistake. But for now, he would play the part of the good guy.

Because if they tried anything again, this time, he’d be ready.

Karl’s eyes flicked to movement outside the window. A group of people from the apartment complex across the street were gathering in the dim light of a flickering streetlamp. They moved with purpose, each carrying blunt objects—bats, pipes, and wooden planks. Their faces were tense, and their hushed voices carried a hint of urgency.

Layla noticed his stiff posture and walked over. "What’s wrong?" she asked.

Karl didn’t look away from the scene outside. "The neighbors from across the street. They’re grouping up for something."

Layla leaned closer to the window, her brows furrowing. "Why are they carrying weapons? Do you think they’re—"

"Looters," Karl interrupted grimly. He crossed his arms, his jaw tightening. "Maybe they’re planning to raid somewhere."

Layla’s face paled. "Do you think they’ll come here? To our building?"

Karl turned to her, his expression unreadable. "I don’t know. But I wouldn’t rule it out. Times are hard, and desperate people do desperate things."

Layla bit her lip, glancing nervously at the door. "Should we lock it? Maybe warn the others in the building?"

Karl shook his head. "Not yet. If we start panicking, it might draw attention. Let’s wait and see what they do."

The group outside began moving, heading down the street in a tight cluster. They kept their voices low, their movements cautious. Karl’s sharp eyes tracked them as they disappeared around a corner.

"They’re not coming here," he said, his voice steady. "At least, not yet."

Layla exhaled, but her relief was short-lived. "What if they don’t find what they’re looking for? What if they come back here, thinking we have supplies?"

Karl’s expression hardened. "Then we’ll be ready."

Layla’s eyes widened slightly. "Ready? What does that mean?"

Karl stepped away from the window, walking toward a storage cabinet. "It means I’m not letting anyone threaten us," he said firmly. He opened the cabinet and pulled out a crowbar. "If they come here, we’ll make sure they regret it."

Layla stared at him, her concern shifting to fear. "Karl, you’re not seriously thinking about fighting them, are you?"

Karl looked at her, his eyes cold but resolute. "I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you, Jane, and the others safe. If that means getting my hands dirty again, so be it."

Layla hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. "Just... don’t do anything reckless, okay?"

Karl gave her a faint smirk, though his mind was already racing. He couldn’t afford to let his guard down, not with everything going on. If the group came back, they’d find more than they bargained for.

For now, though, all he could do was wait. And prepare.