Apocalypse God Mode: Unlocked (Cecilia) novel Chapter 247

Blake shook his head. “Nothing. This area is relatively safe.”

“Good.”

Cecelia decided they would rest properly tonight, recharge their batteries, and hit the Eastern District hard

tomorrow.

She reached into her space and pulled out a chicken she’d been raising for a while–time to give the team some real protein before the battle ahead.

Hendrick happened to walk over just as Cecelia was crouched beside the courtyard well, butchering the chicken.

He paused. “Mutated chicken?”

“Hm?”

Cecelia held up the bird. “Something like that.”

“Caught it around here?”

“It came to me, actually. Figured I’d see how it tastes.”

“…Aren’t these things infected with the zombie virus?”

Hendrick wasn’t buying her story, and for good reason.

This chicken was two or three times the size of a normal rooster, with glossy, oil–slick feathers and terrifying strength.

When Cecelia had grabbed it, the thing had thrashed so violently it nearly took flight.

She’d had to slit its throat first just to get it to cooperate.

Even after that, it still managed to stand and wobble around.

And its eyes were perfectly normal–no trace of the color mutations you’d see in a proper mutated beast.

The whole thing looked like a regular chicken, just absurdly oversized.

It didn’t resemble a mutated beast in the slightest.

“Look…”

Cecelia had known he’d ask. At this point, there was no sense hiding it.

She glanced at Hendrick and said flatly, “Fine. Cards on the table—I raised this chicken.

“What?”

It

9:14 am P PO

Chapter 247 The Space that Houses Life

Hendrick stared. “How? Where?”

Their two teams had been practically joined at the hip.

Cecelia’s crew had one military SUV. Where on earth was she keeping livestock?

Unless…

Finished

Something clicked in his brain. He looked at her with genuine shock. “You have a spatial ability that can store living things?”

“Sharp as ever, Hendrick.”

“…That sounded extremely sarcastic.”

“Did it? I think you’re just being sensitive.”

Cecelia didn’t waste any more words. She became an expressionless chicken–plucking machine–scalding the bird, stripping the feathers clean in record time.

A few minutes was all it took.

Hendrick didn’t leave.

She looked at him. “Let me guess–you want to mooch some food?”

“Will you let me?”

“No.”

Hendrick stared at her.

He looked mildly offended. “I’m not interested in the chicken.”

“So, you’re interested in my spatial ability, then?”

Cecelia saw right through him.

That man’s curiosity was endless.

Even Tiger, her cat in the space, would lose a nosiness contest to Hendrick.

Hendrick cleared his throat to cover the embarrassment of being called out. “I’ve seen Morton’s spatial ability before. It’s a rare one. And you…”

“Physical ability plus spatial ability, right?”

Cecelia was gutting the chicken as she spoke. “Hendrick, there are a lot of ability types out there. Usually, yes, one person gets one ability. But exceptions exist. I’m nothing special, really. Once you get to Briar City, you’ll understand what real ability diversity looks like.”

“Fair enough. I’m clearly the one with limited exposure here.

t

9:14 am Pp

Chapter 247 The Space that Houses Life

Finished

Hendrick rubbed his nose, looking slightly awkward. Then he asked, “After you finish leveling in the Eastern District, is your next stop also Briar City?”

“No.”

Cecelia was blunt. “We don’t have plans for Briar City yet.”

“And your eventual destination?”

He wouldn’t let it go.

Cecelia paused, considered it. “Haven’t decided. We’ll see.”

After that, neither of them spoke.

Cecelia focused on the chicken.

Hendrick stood there watching her work, his expression a tangle of unreadable thoughts.

Blake came out of the house carrying a large pot, which he set down beside Cecelia. “Ivy asked me to bring this out.”

“Perfect. Thanks.”

Cecelia lifted the plucked, cleaned chicken and stuffed it into the pot.

It barely fit.

The bird had to weigh at least 15 pounds.

“Could you take this back inside and get Ivy started on the stew?”

“Sure.”

Blake picked up the pot and walked back in without so much as glancing at Hendrick.

Back when he’d been Jerome, he’d heard plenty of Hendrick’s inner thoughts—and the man’s vague, instinctive hostility toward him.

The probing look Hendrick had just given him was more of the same, though a little less aggressive than before.

In any case, Hendrick’s attention on him was brief.

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