Chapter 156: Chapter 1144: Do You Like the Western-style Houses?

Inside the isolation room, Flora Bloom, Jade, Shauna Wallace, Lisa, Selina, Maeve Preston, and Shelly sat on a long bench. The seven of them looked at each other, at a loss for what to do.

Flora Bloom, however, had already extended her spiritual power, using it to scan the small room.

The small room was pitch-black, save for a single, half-burnt candle that flickered and swayed, providing them with a dim light.

Flora Bloom’s brow furrowed deeply.

Hidden in the corners of the dim room, from every angle, were pinhole cameras. If not for the strength of her spiritual power, she never would have detected them.

The water energy in Morhaven was abundant. Instantly, a white mist rose in the small room, filling it completely.

On the other side of the monitors, one of the three men was the same short, stout man who had just returned to the surveillance room. Seeing the monitor feed blur until he couldn’t make out a thing, he assumed the camera lens was dirty. He slapped the back of the man next to him. "Did you guys forget to adjust the cameras? Or did you just not clean them properly after you were done playing with those women last time?"

The man who’d been slapped rubbed the back of his head, looking puzzled as he tried to recall. "No way, Boss. You were there last time we had that chick. We didn’t get the cameras dirty! Besides, we two always give them a special cleaning before any new people arrive!"

Another man stood up. "Should we go clean them again?"

This time, the short, stout man gave them each a slap across the face, leaving them both seeing stars. "Are you two idiots? Go clean the cameras now? You want to make sure they know what we’re planning, is that it?"

"Then what do we do, Boss?" one of the men asked, rubbing his hands together as he looked at the short, stout man expectantly. "Are we still going to get our piece of meat tonight?"

"Heh heh. We’ve got two fine pieces this time. Even before the apocalypse, I never got this close to women this beautiful! They’re young and clean. I’m fucking sick of smelling the sour-swill stench on all those other dirty women in the base. This one... she’s clean, and she even smells fragrant!"

The short, stout man’s words made the other two gulp, their mouths watering. They quickly asked, "What about the other one?"

"The other one... tsk, tsk. With that face and that body, she’s way better than any TV star. Just thinking about it is driving me crazy!"

"So, uh, Boss... When do we make our move tonight? The usual plan?"

"Yep. Usual time, usual plan."

Meanwhile, Caleb Bloom’s group—six people, one tiger, and one goose—had successfully entered the safe zone and were being led by a guide to a villa district.

As they walked, they noticed the safe zone was divided into many different areas. There were ordinary residential buildings, mid-rise apartments, Western-style houses, and villas. After leading them on a long, winding path, the guide finally brought them to a place that looked like a community center.

Inside, it looked just like an office.

A wiry man who gave the first impression of being as shrewd as a monkey stood up from his office chair. He eagerly approached them, shaking each of their hands one by one.

When he got to the tiger and the goose, he looked at the two animals with a curious expression. "I don’t suppose these are your pets?"

Cynthia Grant crouched down to stroke the little white tiger’s fur, then looked up. "Why? Are pets not allowed in the base?"

"No, no, no, you misunderstand! They’re allowed, of course they are. It’s just... you have to be mindful of the safety of the ordinary people in the base! After all, bea—pets, you know, aren’t always so obedient!"

He was mid-sentence when the little white tiger suddenly opened its mouth and let out a roar at him. But instead of sounding menacing, the noise that came out was more like a big kitten’s meow, which sent Chester Sawyer into a fit of laughter.

"HAHAHA, what an adorable little tiger!" Before the apocalypse, white tigers were a Class-I nationally protected species. But now, it didn’t matter how precious you were; no one cared. You could raise an elephant if you wanted, and as long as you could afford it, no one would bat an eye.

"GAK GAK GAK GAK GAK!"

The giant white goose, seemingly unwilling to let the tiger get all the attention, did a little hop. With a single flap of its wings, it knocked Chester Sawyer flat on his backside. Then it continued to let out its strange "GAK GAK GAK" cry, as if mocking him for his embarrassing fall.

Chester Sawyer was utterly dumbfounded. A moment ago, he’d been thinking that even though the goose was absurdly large, it was still just a goose. He never expected it to be strong enough to knock him over in an instant. He was an Earth Ability User, for crying out loud, yet he’d been taken down by a goose. It was both infuriating and hilarious, but most of all, it was just plain embarrassing.

He awkwardly got to his feet, brushed the dust off his rear, and forced a smile.

"Ah, a pleasure, a real pleasure! My name is Chester Sawyer. I’m the official Resource Allocation Officer for the Morhaven Safe Zone. You can call me Chester or just Sawyer, either is fine!"

He’d heard reports from his subordinates earlier about a new group arriving with several superpower users among them.

He now looked at the group before him: four men and two women, six people in total. According to his subordinates’ reports, their original party had nineteen people, and six of them were superpower users. In this base, that was a force to be reckoned with.

"Haha, I didn’t bring you all here for anything too serious," he began. "It’s just that everyone new to the base needs to choose their residential area. Here in the Morhaven Safe Zone, we have four types of housing available, and you are free to choose."

Sherman Lynch asked, "What are the options?"

"Mid-rise apartments, Western-style houses, and the villa district. I wonder which one you’ll all choose?"

"Didn’t you say there were four types of housing? What’s the other one?" Cynthia Grant asked curiously.

Chester Sawyer answered with a patient smile. "The last type is the old-style residential buildings. But those are almost exclusively for ordinary people, and the facilities are... not as complete. That’s why I didn’t mention it to you."

"Mid-rise apartments, Western-style houses, and the villa district... can we really just pick any of them?" Lucia asked, her wide eyes fixed on Chester Sawyer as she spoke timidly. She was incredibly excited. ’A villa! I never would have dreamed of living in a house like that in my entire life! If we can really choose anything, I’m definitely picking the villa.’

Chester Sawyer gave a faint smile, his tone suddenly growing mysterious. "Naturally, it’s not as simple as just picking one."

"What do you mean?" Caleb Bloom asked. He could tell from the man’s expression that everything said so far was just a preamble; the real point was coming now.

"It’s like this. Since you are superpower users, if you choose the mid-rise apartments, you can rent any unit for just ten Crystal Cores a month. Of course, I know you still have teammates—ordinary people—in the isolation room, so one unit certainly won’t be enough. If you want to live together, I can arrange for you to have several apartments on the same floor, which would make visiting each other more convenient. As for the price, it’s ten Crystal Cores per unit per month. But for a group purchase, I can give you a 15% discount. What do you say?"

Chester Sawyer finished his pitch, but when no one responded, he was secretly overjoyed. ’Looks like this group is loaded,’ he thought. ’They’re not even interested in the mid-rise apartments!’

So he continued, "I understand you might not be accustomed to high-rises. After all, we don’t have spare electricity to run services like elevators, so you’d have to walk up and down, which isn’t very convenient. So, how about the Western-style houses? Do those appeal to you?"

The group who had been brought to the office felt a surreal sense of displacement, as if they had stepped into another world. The reason was simple: Chester Sawyer’s tone was exactly like that of a pre-apocalypse real estate agent pitching them properties. The whole experience felt bizarre.