My 100th Rebirth a day before the Apocalypse novel Chapter 917

Chapter 917: Chapter 917 Ancestor Stop Working

"And judging by the unusually low number of zombies in this area, my speculation is that this one is already halfway there... controlling the surrounding horde according to its will, keeping them from getting too close to the shelter."

He let his words hang in the air, forcing everyone to grasp the gravity of the situation. The silence that followed was suffocating, and even Vulture—usually steady as stone—felt unease coil in his chest.

"Are you certain?" Vulture asked, his voice low and husky, the weight of his seriousness cutting through the room.

"Seventy percent," Sparrow replied without hesitation. Then, in the same measured tone, he continued, "Given how this mutated zombie moves, thinks, and reacts, it no longer fits the information Adam and the others provided in the mission notice."

"We can assume it hasn’t just grown stronger and faster, but it has also become more intelligent. Which means this isn’t something we can take down on our own. We’ll likely need the Young Madam’s help to eliminate it."

He paused briefly before pressing on, his words as casual as if he were commenting on the weather. "Until she receives the message and responds, our priority is to protect this shelter, keep it from being overrun, and prevent a massacre."

"If this creature truly is as intelligent as it seems, once it realizes reinforcements have arrived, it may lash out, send a zombie wave in fury. If that happens, we’ll have to hold the line as best we can. And should the Young Madam choose not to intervene, which is unlikely, then we’ll have no choice but to handle it ourselves... but the casualties will be high."

After all, a Zombie King—or even the possibility of one—meant disaster. Such a creature could command a horde and unleash a wave powerful enough to topple a shelter of this size with ease.

If what Sparrow said was true, then they were already as good as dead. Fear drained the color from everyone’s faces, and the second-in-command’s mouth opened and closed soundlessly, unable to form words as the weight of that possibility crashed over him.

It was only after a long, suffocating silence that he finally managed to speak, his voice hoarse with desperation. "Is... the Young Madam you’re talking about the City Lord of your base? Is she strong?"

It was as if all his hope now rested on the unknown strength of HOPE Base’s City Lord.

Hearing this, Vulture grinned as if Sparrow’s grim words about their chances of dying on this mission hadn’t registered at all. "She’s stronger than all of us combined," he said with pride, his tone swelling as though he were boasting about himself.

The second-in-command, however, looked unconvinced. To him, Vulture’s words sounded more like empty comfort meant to soothe their fears. After all, how could anyone feel reassured when Sparrow had already crushed their hopes with the harsh truth?

But why had Sparrow revealed it so openly? He could have easily sent word back to their base in secret and let the Young Madam deal with the threat discreetly, avoiding unnecessary panic. Yet he chose not to.

The reason was simple: he wanted them to feel the weight of reality, that their lives were already dangling over the grave, and facing this mutated zombie was a risk no bounty could justify.

But more than that, this was a chance to let their City Lord’s strength be known. If they fought here, if Kisha’s power was displayed in full, the survivors themselves would spread the story.

That way, HOPE Base’s reputation would travel far and wide, and everyone would learn that their City Lord and Vice City Lord were not people to be trifled with. After all, if HOPE base claimed such strength on their own, it would only sound like bragging.

But if others spoke of it as witnesses, the story would carry weight. People would believe it, and they would think twice before trying to scheme against HOPE Base. In this way, the shelter would not only understand how grave their situation truly was, but once the threat was resolved, they would feel an even deeper gratitude toward HOPE Base.

In short, it was another layer of psychological warfare, a carefully placed reminder to ensure these people understood exactly who they were dealing with.

"Alright, we’ll go with your plan. Everyone’s already in position—if there’s any movement here, we’ll let you know," Vulture replied. After that, Sparrow fell silent, likely trying to connect with the base to get Kisha’s opinion on the matter.

’Ancestor, please stop working... if you keep this up, I’ll lose my job. You’re making me feel useless.’

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