Common Sense Hijack System-Chapter 137

One Week Later

The apartment complex felt eerily quiet, except for the occasional groan of hunger and whispered conversations in the dead of night. The residents looked thinner, their faces pale, their eyes hollow. The little food they had left was rationed to the extreme—crackers split into quarters, canned goods stretched to last days, water measured to the last drop.

Karl observed it all in silence. He had expected this.

From his window, he could see the empty streets below, abandoned cars rusting under the sun. The outside world had become a graveyard. The power had flickered out two days ago, leaving them in darkness. Now, the only sources of light at night were candles and weak flashlights running on borrowed batteries.

And the food situation was only getting worse.

It was inevitable.

Another meeting was called.

Karl made his way downstairs, stepping into the dimly lit lobby where a group of residents had already gathered. The tension in the air was thick—people shifting uncomfortably, whispering among themselves. The hunger had made them restless, desperate.

Evelyn stood at the center again, arms crossed, her sharp eyes scanning the room. She looked worse than before—thinner, more feral. But her confidence hadn’t waned.

Julia, standing near the back, had her arms wrapped around herself, her expression tight with unease.

Emmet, the former maintenance worker, leaned against the wall with his arms folded. His body was thinner, but his posture was still solid.

The whispers died down when an older man, Mr. Higgins, cleared his throat. His voice, though weak, carried authority.

"We can’t keep living like this," he said, his gaze sweeping over the crowd. "Our supplies are almost gone. If we don’t act soon, we’re going to starve."

A murmur of agreement spread through the group.

Evelyn, of course, seized the moment.

"I’ve been saying this for days," she said, stepping forward. "We need food, and we need it now." She turned to the group. "We can’t just sit here and wait to die. We need to do something."

Emmet nodded. "But what can we do? The stores were raided weeks ago."

"Not all of them," Evelyn countered. "There’s still a convenience store a few blocks away. And the mall... it might still have something left."

A silence followed.

Everyone had considered it. But no one wanted to be the first to suggest it.

Raiding the outside was dangerous. There were things out there. No one knew exactly what, but the few who had left and returned spoke in hushed voices about shadows moving unnaturally, about eyes watching from the alleys, about people disappearing without a trace.

And some... never came back at all.

Julia’s voice was hesitant. "What if it’s too dangerous?"

"What’s more dangerous?" Evelyn snapped. "Going outside, or staying here until we waste away?"

A heavy pause.

Then Karl spoke.

"I’ll go."

All eyes turned to him.

Evelyn’s lips curled. "Oh? Feeling generous all of a sudden?"

Karl ignored her. "Whether you like it or not, we need food. We can’t keep sitting around waiting for things to change." He glanced around the room. "But if we do this, we do it right. We don’t rush in like idiots. We scout first. We take only what we need. We don’t attract attention."

Emmet nodded slowly. "He’s got a point. Running in blindly is suicide."

Evelyn folded her arms. "Fine. But we need a team. We’re not sending just one person."

"I’ll go with him," Emmet said.

"I’ll come too," another man, Curtis, spoke up. He was younger, in his late twenties, but he looked just as worn down as the rest.

Evelyn smirked. "Guess I should tag along, too. Someone has to make sure you don’t chicken out."

Karl gave her an unreadable look. "Do what you want."

Julia stepped forward, worry in her eyes. "This is a bad idea."

"No," Karl corrected. "Doing nothing is a bad idea."

The decision was made.

Tomorrow, they would leave.

And for the first time in days, the apartment felt less like a prison... and more like a battlefield waiting to happen.

Karl’s Apartment – The Conversation Before the Raid

The apartment was dimly lit by a few flickering candles. With the power out, the air inside felt stale, heavy with the tension of unspoken words. Layla sat on the couch, arms wrapped around herself, while Jane paced near the small kitchen, her expression dark with frustration.

Karl, as usual, was calm. Too calm. He sat at the table, fingers lazily tapping against the wooden surface, his gaze distant, lost in thought.

Jane finally broke the silence.

"You’re actually going through with this?" she asked, her voice sharp.

Karl didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a small knife, and idly flipped it between his fingers.

Layla’s voice was softer but no less urgent. "Karl... why? You don’t need to do this. We know you don’t need to do this."

Karl looked at her, raising an eyebrow.

"You have the Uncommon Storage," Jane continued, stepping closer. "You have enough supplies in there to last months—maybe even longer if you ration it properly. So why the hell are you putting yourself at risk?"

Karl sighed, setting the knife down on the table with a soft clink.

"And if I don’t?" he asked, tilting his head slightly. "If I just sit here, safe and well-fed while everyone else wastes away? How long do you think it’ll take before people start asking questions?"

Jane clenched her fists. "They already did ask questions. A week ago. And you handled it. You made them look stupid."

Karl gave a small smirk. "For now."

Layla shifted uncomfortably. "You think they’ll come back?"

"They will come back," Karl said simply. "Evelyn isn’t stupid. She may have lost the last round, but she’s watching me. Watching us. If she gets even a hint that I have food hidden somewhere, she’ll turn the whole damn building upside down until she finds it."

Jane crossed her arms. "So what, you’re going to risk your life just to keep up appearances?"

Karl shrugged. "I don’t have a choice."

Layla bit her lip. "But what if you die out there?"

Karl leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly. "Then I guess I won’t have to worry about storage space anymore."

Jane swore under her breath. "This isn’t a joke, Karl!"

Karl’s expression turned serious. "I know. But what other option do we have? If I keep avoiding these raids, people will start wondering why. If I never look as desperate as they do, they’ll put the pieces together. If I say no now, Evelyn will use it against me. She’ll say I must be hiding something. That I’m getting food from somewhere."

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "And once people believe that? It’s over. No more trust. No more hesitation. They’ll tear this place apart until they find what they’re looking for."

Jane gritted her teeth. "So you’re doing this to keep them thinking you’re just like them."

Karl nodded. "Exactly."

Layla frowned, hesitating before speaking. "But what if something happens out there? What if you get hurt, or worse?"

Karl smiled faintly. "Then you two will have to survive without me."

Layla’s face darkened. "That’s not funny."

"I’m not joking," Karl said, his tone even. "I’ll be careful. I know what I’m doing."

Jane let out a frustrated breath. "And if you actually find supplies out there? Are you going to share them?"

Karl smirked. "Just enough to keep suspicions low. Nothing more."

Layla rubbed her arms, clearly uneasy. "I still don’t like this."

"You don’t have to like it," Karl said. "You just have to trust me."

Jane exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Fine. But if something goes wrong... don’t expect us to sit here and do nothing."

Karl chuckled. "Noted."

Layla still looked worried, but she didn’t argue anymore. The silence in the apartment grew heavier.

They all knew—this wasn’t just a food raid.

It was a game of survival.

And Karl was playing the long game.

The freezing wind howled through the cracks of the apartment complex as Karl zipped up his thick black jacket. The hallway outside was filled with hushed murmurs, the tension thick enough to choke on. The plan had been decided, and now it was time to act.

Karl glanced at his small, weathered backpack—empty for now, but soon to be filled with whatever they could salvage. He checked the straps, making sure they were tight. The knife he had been flipping earlier was now securely strapped to his belt, hidden under his jacket. It wasn’t much, but in a world where food meant survival, it was better than nothing.

Layla stood by the door, arms crossed, her lips pressed into a thin line. "You really have to do this?" she asked one last time.

Karl didn’t answer. He just gave her a small, knowing smile before shouldering his bag and stepping out.

Jane leaned against the doorframe, arms folded. "If you don’t come back, I’m eating your rations."

Karl smirked. "Good luck finding them."

She rolled her eyes, but he could see the worry behind her usual sarcasm.

With a final nod, Karl shut the door behind him and made his way downstairs to the main lobby.