Girl's Doomsday Rebirth Revenge & Survive novel Chapter 385

**TITLE: Doomsday Rebirth 385**

**Chapter 385: The Missing Colors**

Amidst the web of predictions Crow spun, there was an abundance of conjecture, each more audacious than the last.

Caroline, listening intently to Crow’s elaborate theory, found herself torn between admiration for his intellect and irritation at his undeniable arrogance. Was he truly that clever, or was he simply blinded by his own self-importance?

Rather than engage in a futile argument, she decided to play her cards close to her chest. With a deliberate flicker of fear in her eyes, she crafted a facade that would serve her well.

At that moment, Crow remained blissfully unaware of the truth that lay hidden within her—a fellow reborn survivor. She had kept this knowledge tightly under wraps, not a whisper of it escaping to Tyler or anyone else.

To be fair, Crow’s deductions were not entirely unfounded.

What he didn’t know, however, was that despite his immobility, shock coursed through him like electricity.

His body was a prison, unyielding and still, yet his mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. He was powerless to move or speak, yet he could hear every word he uttered, spilling secrets and truths he would rather keep buried.

The only part of him still capable of movement were his eyes, which darted around the room, landing on Caroline as she stood a short distance away. Her expressions varied—sometimes she appeared intrigued, other times lost in contemplation, and occasionally, she simply laughed at his predicament.

A tempest of rage swirled in his chest, simmering just beneath the surface.

The feeling was foreign yet familiar, morphing into a palpable killing intent directed towards both Caroline and Tyler.

He was convinced that Caroline had been the one to provoke him, igniting this fire within him.

He had never taken her seriously, always believing he was doing her a favor by sparing her the humiliation of confrontation. Yet here she was, turning the tables and leaving him utterly exposed.

Then, in a voice that was deceptively calm yet undeniably firm, Caroline addressed him once more.

“So, Crow, let’s be honest here. Do you have the urge to kill me right now?”

A shiver traveled down his spine, an icy wave of realization washing over him.

With great effort, he rolled his eyes in her direction—the only part of him he could still maneuver—and caught sight of her faint, almost taunting smile.

In an agonizing twist of fate, his mouth, completely beyond his control, began to utter the unvarnished truth.

As the words poured out, a cold sweat broke out across his skin, a visceral reminder of his vulnerability.

For the first time since his rebirth, a wave of regret crashed over him, overwhelming and suffocating. He recognized the arrogance that had clouded his judgment—his belief that he was untouchable, that everyone else was merely a pawn in his game.

Bitterly, he lamented how he had squandered this second chance at life.

He recounted his decision to choose Building B as his base, his awareness of Tyler, Francis, and Denton blossoming into formidable ability users, and various pivotal moments from his past.

Yet one detail sparked a flicker of interest in Caroline’s eyes.

In the timeline he spoke of, the Obsidian Fang had taken in a remarkably unusual ability user.

This individual hailed from a distant land, not from Hornvale, and was marked by his mismatched eyes—one a brilliant orange, the other a deep, striking green.

He was the sole person Crow had encountered who possessed two distinct abilities, both of which were astoundingly powerful.

As Crow continued, mentioning the colors “orange” and “green,” Caroline inhaled sharply, a rush of realization flooding her senses.

According to her storage space system, those were precisely the two colors she was missing.

“Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet.” The seven colors of the rainbow danced in her mind, and she noted with dismay that orange and green eluded her grasp.

“He said he came from the far west,” Crow continued, oblivious to her dawning understanding. “He traversed deserts and rivers to reach us. What made him particularly odd was his tendency to mumble to himself, rarely engaging with others. But his powers were undeniable, so we welcomed him, provided him with supplies, and sent him out on missions. Quack, quack, quack.”

**Chapter 386: The Limited Foresight**