The Endgame Chronicles (by Hugh White) novel Chapter 185

Chapter 185

Hayley slowly pulled out the management badge Derek had given her. The moment the workers saw it, every single one of them snapped to attention.

“We weren’t fighting!”

“Yeah! We’ve got nothing to do with this! They’re the ones who wanted to quit!”

“Right, right! They didn’t want to work here anymore. We didn’t force them!”

“You’re lying!” said the youngest man in the bullied group. “You were the ones trying to kick us out!”

“Don’t say anything,” the elderly man who had been kicked earlier tugged his sleeve. “Let’s go.”

“Professor Floyd, we…”

“Go. Don’t make trouble for the management.” The old man’s gaze was calm and distant.

He was thinking far further ahead than the others.

Their conflict with the workers wasn’t something a few words could fix. A manager might stop one fight, but they wouldn’t always be here. And the second they walked away, those workers would only get fiercer.

The group simply couldn’t stay here anymore.

Just like the workers said, this was the apocalypse. Whoever had the bigger

fist got to decide.

These researchers, who spent their pre-apocalypse lives doing mental work, had lost all their advantages. In this world, their skills were basically useless.

If the construction team kicked them out, all that awaited them was the most dangerous work: scavenging and zombie-hunting.

Just then, the old man heard a voice beside him.

“What did you all do before the apocalypse?”

He looked up. It was the same female manager who had just stepped in to save them.

“We used to work at a research institute,” the youngest man answered quickly. “This is our mentor, Professor Cyril Floyd, He’s well-known! He’s published tons of research!”

“What kind of research?” Hayley asked.

“Polymer materials.”

Hayley’s eyes lit up instantly.

Polymer materials had a huge range of applications. Agriculture, construction, transport, electronics, and more.

The problem was that this kind of work required a proper lab and specialized equipment, which Base Ki simply couldn’t afford while still struggling with food and survival.

Everyone who entered Base K1 had to register their past profession. Medical workers, agricultural specialists, and strong fighters who could take on zombie runs were placed immediately and valued highly.

Practical skills were everything.

But advanced researchers? Cutting-edge science? To Base K1, they were useless and basically deadweight.

But to Hayley, they were treasures.

N

Cyril tightened his grip on his student’s sleeve, forcing a polite smile. “Thank you, but you don’t need to worry about us. We won’t cause trouble for your base.”

He was terrified they would be kicked out as soon as they admitted they were researchers with no practical survival value. But then he heard something else.

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