323 Crow
Meanwhile, Tyler and Denton had carefully laid out their plan. Both were dressed in flight suits, blending into the shadows as they prepared to infiltrate Building B.
Though everyone believed they had already left, Tyler silently pried open a window and slipped inside with the utmost stealth, making not a single sound.
The true investigation inside Building B was only just beginning.
Back in Building A, the atmosphere was thick with tension, as if the entire place was a powder keg waiting for the smallest spark to ignite it.
Caroline and Francis stood side by side, flanked by four soldiers whose rifles were trained straight ahead, unwavering and ready.
Obsidian Fang’s leader sat calmly in a chair, while Lisa and two bodyguards held their weapons raised, alert and prepared for any sudden moves.
Both groups faced each other, waiting patiently but tensely for the other to make the first move.
“I came here with peaceful intentions,” Obsidian Fang’s boss said, raising a hand slightly in a calming gesture. His men were the first to lower their weapons.
Francis remained stern, but he motioned for his soldiers to ease their grips as well, though their fingers stayed tightly wrapped around their rifles, clearly still on high alert.
Crow, the leader of Obsidian Fang, was well over seventy years old, yet he moved with the energy and sharpness of a man a decade younger.
Caroline had noticed before that his right leg was severely deformed, twisted painfully from years of chronic suffering, making each step a torment of stabbing needles.
Before the apocalypse, such a condition could have been treated, but now it was a permanent, agonizing burden.
Representing the army, Francis was determined to get answers—especially about how Crow seemed to possess knowledge of events before they even occurred.
No one was prepared for the statement Crow made next: “You all know animals have developed abilities now. Humans are animals too. I, for example, can see the future.”
At first, Caroline was skeptical. But then, Crow predicted that the next soldier to enter would slip and fall—and that’s exactly what happened.
Francis was taken aback and immediately began pressing Crow for more details about these supposed human abilities.
For anyone hearing for the first time that humans could develop supernatural skills, it was a shocking revelation.
Plus, it made Obsidian Fang’s leader a bit more cautious around her.
If she played the role of a top-tier doctor, no one would dare underestimate her. Everyone got sick or grew old eventually—especially Crow, who was certainly no spring chicken.
Before departing, Caroline said plainly, “Mr. Crow, I’m not a specialist. These patches won’t cure you—just help a little. There aren’t enough ingredients to make more right now, so you should find another expert.”
Three patches were enough. If they worked too perfectly, it would look suspicious. Leaving some symptoms intact made the medicine seem believable—effective but ordinary.
Caroline had already run molecular tests on all her supplies from the storage space. The machines confirmed they were no different from regular products—same ingredients, nothing unusual or untraceable.
Yet somehow, the patches worked better than anything else she’d seen. She didn’t understand why, but she wasn’t worried about Crow analyzing them.
And what did she want in return? Caroline didn’t need supplies. She only wanted Obsidian Fang to promise two things for her future.
When she finally returned home, Denton was standing in the hallway, binoculars pressed to his eyes, watching toward Building B with a focused intensity.

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