Ralf handed the t-shirt to Sorn, who took it with a slight frown.
"Sorn, the five of us don't like the official military organization."
The response didn't come from Ralf but from Eugene.
"Ralf is protecting our villages, and in return, we supply him. Every two months, we bring what we've gathered to him. The stuff we just delivered is part of a supply run from our area, which is still untouched by the official military, all thanks to Ralf."
Sorn didn't fully understand Eugene's explanation, but he nodded without further comment.
Honestly, though, he was curious—how exactly was Ralf managing to protect an area untouched by the military? It seemed nearly impossible to find any place that wasn't already under military control.
"We will never betray Ralf, not after everything he's done for us. We're all grateful for his arrival."
The voice came from the man who had just entered with Matthew through the iron door, a man with thick mustache and beard—Baruch. He quickly assisted Carl in separating the snacks and groceries that needed to go into the refrigerator.
"I heard you like steak," Baruch added, lifting a piece of fresh meat from a transparent bag and showing the package to Sorn. "I'll ask Emil to cook it for you."
That guy. During his time here, he hadn't spoken much. Every time they passed each other while Sorn was wandering around upstairs, the man had only acknowledged him with a silent nod.
All the members had gathered here, except for Emil, who was currently relaxing in his room. No one objected to having a Mad Lucifer in their group.
At least since Ralf returned from his supply run for their survival in this hideout, Sorn was allowed to leave his room and go downstairs, but he was still strictly forbidden from going outside.
There were two exits—one on the third floor, which had an iron door with a code that no one was willing to share to Sorn, clearly a command from Ralf and on on the lowest floor. From what he gathered during his time here, based on the information he got from Baruch and Emil, the building had four stories; Sorn's room was on the top floor, and the bottom floor, the lowest, was an area accessible only to core members. He still wasn't allowed to go there, even though Ralf told him he would take him downstairs once he finished mentally preparing himself.
Sorn almost laughed at that. Mentally prepare himself? Was that man hiding something forbidden down there? What did he need to prepare for mentally just to take him around the building? What a strange guy.
It seemed that whenever he met Ralf, Sorn's thoughts always revolved around how strange he found the man—truly strange.
His days were spent mostly in his room, with Emil and occasionally Baruch bringing him meals. Dean, who had originally been assigned to be Hilda's bodyguard, had also rarely come upstairs since Ralf's return. Not to mention, even though Ralf was now in the building, it was still difficult for Sorn to find a moment to speak with him for long. The man always spent his time with Hilda on the lowest floor, in what they referred to as the secret room, or the red room.
Hilda and Ralf—a doctor and the leader of the group... Those two were very close. Were they dating?
As that thought crossed his mind, Sorn shook his head. Even if they did have a relationship like that, it was none of his business.
Lunch was approaching, and Sorn glanced at his room's door, bracing himself for whoever would come to bring his food.
"..."
Pouting, he realized he didn't like this new habit he had picked up since living in this building. It reminded him of the day he used to have a personal maid.
Sure enough, a few minutes later, the sound of a knock on the door made Sorn get off his bed. He opened the door to find Emil smiling brightly at him.
Doesn't this guy get bored bringing me food all the time? Sorn thought.
"Sorn, today's meal is fried rice with two beef sausages. Hilda also sent you vitamin D because you've been inside the building all day and haven't had sunlight in a while, so you should take it."
"....."
"Um? Sorn?"
Sorn's deep in thought, his discontent evident as he eyed the food and pill bottle on the tray, causing Emil to feel anxious.
"Do you not like fried rice?" Emil almost stuttered.
"Where's Ralf now?"
"Ah, he's still with Hilda in the red room."
"Hah...."
At Sorn's frustrated exhale, Emil paled.
"You have to eat.... Ralf won't be happy if you don't have lunch. He even scolded you when you said you weren't used to breakfast..."
"Emil."
"Yeah?"
"Aren't you tired of bringing me food and just hanging around this building? Every day, you're either in the kitchen or stuck in your room—doesn't that get boring?"
Emil tightened his grip on the tray, letting out a soft chuckle as he stepped deeper into Sorn's room and set the tray on the nightstand.
"Do you really want to know my honest opinion, Sorn?" he asked, receiving an eager nod from Sorn. Emil shrugged nonchalantly, "Just look at me; I've got no muscles to speak of."
"You're a little taller than me though," Sorn quickly commented.
"Haha, and I have no fighting skills like you do. I can't fight zombies, and I'm weak, so working in the kitchen is an easy way for me to contribute and pay back Ralf's kindness."
Sorn observed Emil chuckle awkwardly, and his own expression soured further. He understood that each member had their own responsibilities, but this explanation only darkened his mood. Was he merely an accessory in this group?
What if Ralf were actually an official soldier posing as the leader of an independent group to prevent 'Mad Lucifer' from wandering into unregulated territories?
Most residents in areas that hadn't officially entered the military's safe zone often provided Sorn with food and clothing as gestures of gratitude. They frequently invited him to stay with them, but Sorn consistently declined, feeling more at ease away from the settlements.
So—what if, after making him feel comfortable here, Ralf planned to hand him over to the captain of a military organization? Damn it, he couldn't shake these negative thoughts. In hindsight, he should have made an escape before Ralf returned to the building.
Noticing the dark aura emanating from Sorn, with his sharp eyes and a murderous glare directed at the wall of his room, Emil was startled. He looked to see what Sorn was staring at, finding nothing that warranted such a gaze on the wall. Nervously rubbing his hands, Emil called Sorn's name.
"You want to talk to Ralf, right?"
Sorn rolled his eyes at Emil, still wearing that terrifying expression, causing Emil's complexion to turn even paler.
"He will indeed be in the red room for a while, but around 8 PM, he'll return to his room. However, at that time, he still shouldn't be disturbed. I've never been in Ralf's room, so I don't know what he's doing in there, and I'm not interested in knowing his privacy .... Anyway, Ralf usually doesn't spend a lot of time in the red room, I've noticed that since I joined the group. He only spends a long time with Hilda when there's something important they need to discuss."
"Discussing what? He's been spending all his time in the red room for days."
"To be honest, I have no idea, but what I've realized is that after Ralf leaves the red room, he looks so exhausted, his face red, and his clothes and hair soaked with sweat..."
"...."
"Then usually after finishing his discussions with Hilda, he goes out with Matthew, Eugene, and Peter. Dean stays to guard Hilda, so he can't go. Afterward, the six people, besides the core members, return to their territories. You know who they are, right? You're one of the core members, Sorn."
Basically, Sorn, Emil, Ralf, Dean, and Matthew are the core members of the group. No wonder Ralf said it wasn't necessary for Sorn to remember their names— he initially seemed reluctant to introduce him to the other members in this building. To be honest, Sorn wasn't someone with a strong memory regarding people, he couldn't even remember his friends from school, their faces were all blurry in his memory.
"What do they do when they go out?"
"Killing zombies."
"That's it?"
The answer was rather unsatisfactory for Sorn.
"Well, Hilda also needs medical supplies, so they usually aim to raid hospitals."
Oh. Knowing that, Sorn couldn't help but laugh, but he quickly covered his mouth. Of course, those guys were stealing too; it was impossible to obtain supplies through honorable deeds in a world nearing destruction. Whether it was a form of amusement for Sorn, who often stole, hearing that there were others doing the same made him feel a bit relieved.
"8 PM, huh," Sorn murmured softly, to which Emil nodded. He pointed at the untouched food in front of Sorn.
As usual, Emil reminded Sorn that he needed to eat, if he didn't, his fate would be dire. Emil didn't want to hear Ralf's complaints—and neither did Sorn. So, he happily ate the cold fried rice, which still tasted good, Emil's cooking never failed.