Common Sense Hijack System-Chapter 134

The evening’s peace shattered with a sudden, sharp knock at the door. It wasn’t a casual, neighborly tap—it was demanding, impatient, and slightly unnerving. Karl froze mid-motion, his hand still holding the metal rod he’d been using to stoke the fire. Layla and Jane exchanged quick, uneasy glances, their relaxed postures stiffening instantly.

The three of them moved in sync, their silence instinctive. Jane reached for the knife she always kept nearby, her fingers tightening around its hilt. Layla, on the other hand, shifted closer to Karl, her expression questioning but cautious.

Another knock. Louder this time. Followed by an irritated voice.

"I know you’re in there, Karl," came a woman’s sharp tone from the other side. "Open the door."

Karl’s stomach sank. He recognized that voice. Evelyn. The self-righteous, sharp-tongued widow from down the hall. In another timeline—a timeline he had erased with the app—she had been one of the many people he’d manipulated, someone whose boundaries he’d crossed with an arrogance born of power. In this timeline, however, Evelyn was just a cynical neighbor, though her disdain for him seemed almost instinctual.

With a resigned sigh, Karl rose and approached the door, motioning for Jane and Layla to stay back. He glanced through the peephole, confirming it was indeed Evelyn, wrapped in a heavy coat with a scarf loosely draped around her neck. Her expression was as severe as ever, her lips pressed into a thin line, her piercing eyes scanning the door as though willing it to open.

Karl unlocked the door but left the chain on, cracking it open just enough to meet her glare. "Evelyn," he said, feigning surprise. "What brings you here?"

Evelyn’s eyes narrowed, and her tone was cold, edged with suspicion. "Don’t play dumb, Karl. People in the building are starving, and yet, somehow, you and your little... entourage seem perfectly fine. Better than fine, actually." Her gaze flickered past him, trying to catch a glimpse inside. "I’m not stupid. You’re hoarding supplies, aren’t you?"

Karl kept his expression neutral, though his mind raced. "We’re just resourceful," he replied evenly. "We plan ahead. It’s not a crime to be prepared."

Evelyn snorted, her eyes filled with disbelief. "Oh, please. People have seen the light from your fire at night. They’ve smelled the food. And now," she gestured with a sharp jerk of her chin toward the interior, "you’ve got two women here? Quite the cozy setup. Must be nice to live so comfortably while the rest of us scrape by on crumbs."

Karl clenched his jaw, carefully choosing his next words. "We’re doing the best we can, just like everyone else. If you’ve come here looking for handouts, Evelyn, you’ll be disappointed."

Evelyn smirked, a humorless expression that only deepened the lines on her face. "Handouts? No, Karl. I don’t need your pity. But the building deserves answers. You can’t just sit in here playing house while the rest of us suffer."

Behind him, Jane shifted, her grip tightening on the knife as she moved closer to the door. Her presence was a silent warning, a reminder that they weren’t defenseless. Evelyn’s eyes flickered briefly to Jane before returning to Karl, her smirk fading into a look of disdain.

"Right," Evelyn said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Because you’re the noble type, aren’t you? A regular Good Samaritan."

Karl held her gaze, unflinching. "I’m just trying to survive. Same as you."

For a moment, the hallway was silent, the tension thick and suffocating. Evelyn studied him, her expression unreadable, before finally stepping back. "Fine," she said, her voice colder than the wind outside. "Have it your way. But don’t think for a second that people aren’t watching. We’ll find out the truth eventually."

Without waiting for a response, she turned sharply on her heel and walked away, her boots clicking against the floor. Karl waited until her footsteps faded before closing the door, locking it tightly behind him.

He exhaled, his shoulders slumping as the tension bled out of him. Turning back to Jane and Layla, he found them both watching him intently.

"That was close," Jane said, her tone low but firm. "She’s not going to let this go."

"Let her watch," Karl replied, his voice steady despite the unease simmering beneath it. "As long as she doesn’t find anything, there’s nothing she can do."

Layla frowned, her worry evident. "But what if she does? What if she stirs everyone else up? We can’t fight off the entire building, Karl."

Karl nodded, acknowledging her concern. "We won’t let it get to that point. We’ll lay low, stay careful, and if it comes to it..." His voice trailed off as he glanced toward the fire, the flickering flames casting long shadows on the walls. "We’ll handle it."

The room fell quiet again, the warmth from earlier replaced by an undercurrent of unease. Evelyn’s visit was a reminder—a warning—that their fragile peace could shatter at any moment.

Meanwhile, Evelyn returned to her own apartment, her face set in a scowl. She couldn’t shake the feeling that Karl was hiding something. His calm demeanor, the warmth radiating from his door, the faint aroma of cooked food—all of it pointed to one thing: Karl knew more than he let on.

As the evening wore on, Evelyn called a meeting in the cramped lobby of the apartment building. A handful of residents showed up, their faces drawn and tired from days of meager rations and freezing temperatures. The group was a mix of personalities—some eager to vent their frustrations, others skeptical of Evelyn’s claims, and a few simply there for a distraction from their hunger and misery.

Evelyn stood at the center, her voice sharp and commanding as she addressed the group. "Look, I know we’re all struggling right now," she began, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. "But doesn’t it seem strange to anyone else that Karl, of all people, seems to be doing just fine? No, more than fine."

A murmur rippled through the group. Some nodded in agreement, while others exchanged uncertain glances.

"Think about it," Evelyn pressed, her tone insistent. "We’re rationing scraps, barely surviving, and yet that boy is sitting pretty with two women in his apartment and a steady supply of food. He’s lighting fires, cooking meals. Where is it all coming from? How is he managing it?"

"Maybe he just got lucky," muttered one of the older tenants, a wiry man named Greg. He adjusted the scarf around his neck and shrugged. "Kid’s always been weird, but I don’t see him as some mastermind."

Evelyn shook her head, her frustration bubbling over. "Lucky? Lucky doesn’t explain this. No one gets this lucky. He knew this was coming. He had to have known. Why else would he be so prepared?"

"Prepared?" scoffed another neighbor, a heavyset woman named Marcy, who had been seated on a folding chair by the wall. "Karl? The same Karl who can’t pay his rent on time? The same Karl who borrowed my toaster and never returned it? Come on, Evelyn, the kid’s harmless. He’s not some evil genius stockpiling food."

"Yeah," chimed in another voice from the back, a younger man named Theo. "He’s a slacker. Always has been. Half the time he looks like he rolled out of bed five minutes ago. You really think someone like that could predict an apocalypse?"

Evelyn’s lips tightened as the room erupted in a mix of laughter and dismissive comments. "That’s exactly what he wants you to think!" she snapped, her voice rising above the din. "He plays the fool, but he’s hiding something. I know it."

"Even if he is hiding something," Greg said, his tone placating, "what do you suggest we do? Storm his apartment? Demand he share? If he does have supplies, he’s not just going to hand them over because we ask nicely."

Evelyn hesitated, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. "We can’t just sit here and do nothing," she said after a moment. "If he’s hoarding resources, then we’re all suffering while he thrives. It’s not fair."

Marcy sighed, shaking her head. "Life’s not fair, Evelyn. If Karl has a stash, good for him. Honestly, I’m more impressed he managed to pull it off than anything else."

The group’s collective interest in Evelyn’s accusations began to wane, the weight of their exhaustion taking over. One by one, the neighbors started to drift away, muttering about wasted time and pointless speculation. Greg gave Evelyn a sympathetic pat on the shoulder before he, too, disappeared into the stairwell.

Left standing alone in the dimly lit lobby, Evelyn’s jaw tightened as anger and frustration warred within her. She wasn’t crazy. She knew Karl was hiding something. She just needed proof.

Her gaze flicked toward the hallway leading to Karl’s apartment, her thoughts churning. If no one else would take this seriously, then she’d handle it herself.