Inside the villa, Lisa turned to Miles with a concerned expression. "Aren't you worried that telling them all this might spark other ideas in their heads?"
Miles, meticulously cleaning his pistol, smiled faintly. "If they want to leave, I won't stop them. Haven't you heard the saying? Only when you step out of the house do you realize how good home truly is."
Lisa sighed. "True. They might feel oppressed here… but they don't realize that out there, the oppression will only be harsher."
Miles nodded. "It's only after you've been beaten down that you truly understand pain."
With that, they fell silent, each returning to their respective tasks.
Miles began unloading a stash of equipment from his storage space—bulletproof vests, riot shields, batons, handcuffs, and other gear he had scavenged from the police station. Among them were several sets of thermal suits.
Calling Ryan over, Miles handed him the supplies. "Distribute these among the teams. Also, take these thermal suits and ensure everyone has one. After that, organize groups to begin searching the surrounding area for usable resources."
"Got it," Ryan replied. "We still missed a few things at the last police station. I'll lead them there again."
Miles nodded approvingly. "You're in charge of this, Ryan. I can't do everything. They need to adapt to this world on their own, or they won't survive later."
After a brief exchange, Ryan left with the supplies, driving off with the teams. Meanwhile, Miles shut himself in his room to focus on refining his abilities.
Over the past three months, Miles's abilities had evolved twice, but no further breakthroughs had occurred since. Even the energy he had absorbed from zombies remained dormant.
"Is this a bottleneck?" he wondered aloud.
Concentrating his psychic energy, Miles manipulated every object in his room with a mere thought. The furniture, trinkets, and even the curtains seemed enchanted, obeying his will. But as he stepped into the living room to test his range, he confirmed his limitation: he could only control objects within a ten-meter radius.
For now, his powers were bound to this radius. To expand it, he needed another breakthrough.
Two days passed uneventfully. The disappearance of the ambushed patrol had caused no ripples, as if their absence had gone unnoticed.
Isaac arrived at the villa, and Miles stepped outside to meet him.
"Miles," Isaac began with a grin, throwing a few powerful punches into the air. The force of his swings produced a sharp whistling sound. "I've tested myself a few times now. I can kill a zombie with a single punch."
"That's impressive," Miles replied with interest. "Not even professional strongmen could match that kind of power."
Isaac chuckled but grew serious. "Miles, even if I become an ability user, I swear I'll never raise a hand against you. I owe you my life, and I'll always follow your lead."
Miles clapped him on the shoulder, his smile genuine. "You don't need to say it. I trust your character."
Isaac hesitated before continuing, "By the way, I led a team southwest today. We found signs of human activity—cleared pathways and scavenged supplies."
Miles nodded knowingly. "That's likely the Southwest Base."
"Do you think they'll come for us? If they do, should we…" Isaac trailed off, his natural compassion making him hesitant to finish the thought.
Before Miles could respond, the radio crackled to life with an urgent message.
"Miles! Ryan's been captured by soldiers!" a frantic voice shouted.
"What? Explain clearly!" Miles's expression turned icy. "Didn't I warn you not to venture too far?"
"We didn't, Boss! We were only five kilometers from the neighborhood, searching the area. But suddenly, a group of over ten soldiers ambushed us. They shot two of our men on the spot. Ryan helped us escape but got caught in the process."
Miles's voice grew sharp. "What about you? Are they still pursuing?"
"No. They stopped chasing us after a while, but they'll definitely return. What do we do, Boss?"
"Get back here immediately," Miles ordered before turning to Isaac. "Gather your men and lock down all three entrances to the neighborhood. Stay alert. I'm going to rescue Ryan."
Isaac's eyes widened. "Ryan's been captured? Then I'm coming with you."
"It'll be dangerous. The enemy is well-armed, and that area isn't easy to infiltrate," Miles cautioned, his gaze steady.
Isaac, however, grinned. "And yet, you didn't hesitate for even a second when you decided to go after him."
Miles's expression softened. "He's my friend. After everything that's happened, I'd like to believe that humanity hasn't completely lost its soul. We're still human, and we can't survive alone."
Isaac's smile deepened. "Miles, do you think I'm worthy to be your friend?"
Miles raised an eyebrow. "What are you getting at?"
Isaac chuckled. "Over these past months, I've watched you. You've killed plenty of people, but only in self-defense. You've never been the aggressor."
"What is this, a good citizen award?" Miles teased.
Isaac shook his head. "The definition of a 'good person' is subjective. Take me, for example. I've tried my best to do the right thing, but those I saved still resent me. They think I abandoned them, let them starve."
Miles gave him a wry smile. "Then it's settled. We'll head out together. But be warned—this will be dangerous. You might want to say goodbye to Lena first."
Isaac flushed slightly but quipped back, "What about you? Shouldn't you say farewell to your girlfriend too?"
Miles burst into laughter. "Only if you're planning to celebrate before we go! Just don't take too long. Ryan's probably getting whipped as we speak."
The two men parted to prepare for the mission.
When Lisa learned of Miles's plan, her worry was evident. Yet amidst her concern, she felt a glimmer of pride. For all his pragmatism and cynicism, Miles's decision to rescue Ryan showed a depth of loyalty and compassion. It reminded her that he still had a heart—and that it was a heart worth trusting.