Apocalypse: Reborn with a Soul Sync Farming Space System-Chapter 108 A Strange Sound

Their voices overlapped, accompanied by their agitated faces.

Ronan remained seated for a moment longer, not because he thought he could defy them, but because standing up felt like crossing a line he had never needed to cross before. The corridor lights flickered above their heads, casting uneven shadows on the stained walls, and for the first time, he noticed how tired everyone looked. No one cared about his surname anymore. They cared about who would stand at the front if something came through the stairwell.

Clark clicked his tongue impatiently. "Move."

Ronan rose slowly, brushing his palm against his trousers as if that small gesture could restore some order to his dignity. He met Clark’s eyes briefly and then looked away. There was no point arguing further. Every word he spoke would only add fuel to the resentment simmering in the room.

His hands trembled by his side as he headed towards the door, the fear of encountering an infected sent shivers down his spine, and their eyes boring through him didn’t make the feeling any better.

Before he could step out of the room, his gaze fell on Don who was in the inner room, and a strange feeling of wanting to be in that position grew large in his chest.

He glanced over his shoulder, glaring at Clark with a look that promised he would definitely pay for what he did, but that single look made Clark smirk.

Ronan walked out the door. The momentHis feet touched the hallway, a strange heavy feeling clung to the air, weighing down on him. His eyes quickly scanned his surroundings, holding his breath as if breathing could hand him a death notice.

Doors lined the corridor, and the red velvet rug on the floor stretched almost endlessly in his eyes. The once luxurious hotel had been reduced to shambles. Even the nice aroma that had once graced the corridor was long gone, it was now filled with a mild foul smell, one he couldn’t tell exactly where it was coming from.

Right at the far end, a man stood near the door of the exit stairwell holding a kitchen knife with both hands. He glanced at Ronan and then returned his gaze to the stairs.

And when he glanced back, he noticed two other men were also patrolling, and that gave him the assurance that he wasn’t alone. Not that he expected them to save him in the face of danger, it meant his chances of surviving were higher, and he only needed to run faster or hide, fight only in the worst case possible.

At the end of the corridor, the window had been sealed with plastic and thick layers of tape. Beyond it, the red mist hovered close to the glass, dense and unmoving. He did not like looking at it for long. It had a way of making the mind wander into uncomfortable places.

He thought of Camile again. He had no way of knowing where she was or if she had found shelter. The last message on his phone remained unsent, frozen in time along with the rest of the world.

A faint scraping sound snapped him out of his daze, his head instantly snapped towards the window, but there was nothing out of the ordinary except for the red mist.

His heartbeat quickened, despite how much he tried to reassure himself that he had heard wrong.

He turned around, his gaze was unfocused, and the more he tried not to appear paranoid the more he was acting like one.

Out of the people who were taking watch, he was the only one without a weapon, and that made him feel more vulnerable.

The further he walked away from the window, the heavier the tension grew. His steps halted when another sharp sound came from the direction of the window again.

"Did you hear that?" Ronan asked the man holding the kitchen knife, his voice laced with fear. All the years of being trained as a Wayne to remain calm in the face of danger flew out of the window.

"Hear what?" The man asked, checking him up and down.

"The sound coming from the window." Ronan pointed towards the window.

A look of fear flashed across the man’s face and he turned towards the window. The space in the hallway tightened like a spring ready to snap.

For a few moments, not a single sound was made. The fear in the man’s eyes vanished when he didn’t hear anything.

"The rich boy is getting paranoid on the first day of patrolling." The man chuckled as he told the two other men.

The other men began laughing. "I guess the other name for being rich means spineless." One of them said, mockingly.

"And very soon, I’m afraid he will claim he is weak and ask for a rich privilege, I bet if he shit his pants he can’t even clean it up." The other said, staring straight at Ronan.

Ronan’s hands balled into a fist by his side, his nose flaring in anger. "I’m not to blame that you were born with poverty, hold your parents and your fucking fate accountable." He spat out.

At his insult, the hall fell quiet as if they were waiting for his words to settle in the space between them.

The man holding the knife slammed his palms into Ronan’s chest. "You fucking bastard."

Ronan stumbled back from the force, before he could open his mouth to speak, a blow flew through the air connecting to his jaw, sending blood and saliva flying into the air.

Ronan fell to the ground not even knowing the direction the blow came from. The three men kicked him all over.

Ronan curled into a fetal position, grunting at their kicks and punches.

"You bastard!"

"Asshole!"

"Beat the hell out of him."

A loud-pitched sound rang through Ronan’s ears, he squinted his eyes both from pain and confusion. Everything appeared distorted, and his vision blurred.

Suddenly, the sound of the window breaking echoed through the hallway sending fear trickling down the men’s spines.

They snapped their heads simultaneously towards the window, and their eyes immediately widened in horror, as a humanlike creature forced his head through the shattered window frame.

Growl.