Upgraded Space Thrive in Apocalypse Reborn (caroline) novel Chapter 100

**Doomsday Rebirth**
**Chapter 100: He Kills Them**

The exodus from the building had begun, and among those departing were familiar faces from the 66th floor: Reese and Jonathan, John, Wayne and his wife Erica, Charlic—an unusually tall and lanky fellow from the 43rd floor—and a young couple in their twenties. Not to forget, Bethany’s daughter-in-law, who clutched her child tightly as they made their way to safety.

In this desperate time, priority was given to those with children or elderly relatives, leading to a swift evacuation. Most residents gathered their belongings and left, their hearts heavy yet hopeful.

But the most astonishing departure came from Freya. After the chaos that ensued when Ivor’s crew either met their demise or ended up gravely injured, she found herself clinging to a man in his fifties. He was far from impressive—short, unremarkable in appearance, and bearing the marks of age—but he was a veritable treasure trove of supplies, a result of his compulsive hoarding habits.

This man had once been a locksmith, and his skills proved invaluable. He breezed through locked doors as if they were mere paper, liberating food and essentials from their confines. Freya, by keeping close to him for several days, even managed to gain a few pounds—an unexpected benefit in such dire circumstances.

When the government finally arrived, the old man’s excitement was palpable. Unfortunately, it triggered a spike in his blood pressure, sending him into a health crisis. As they whisked him away, Freya seized the moment, claiming to be his family to secure her own escape.

As she boarded the rescue vessel, she cast a glance back at the building, particularly at the 66th floor. A smug smile crept across her face as she recalled Kay’s scathing words about her lack of self-respect. But what had her defiance accomplished? Kay was left behind, her face marred by the horrors they had faced, stuck in the building with the rest of the unfortunate souls.

The thought of those left on the 66th floor made Freya chuckle. Did they genuinely believe they were heroes? The government had dispatched boats, and yet they remained stubbornly behind, refusing to budge. With her self-satisfied demeanor, Freya had “luckily” secured a spot on the rescue boat.

What she was blissfully unaware of was the grim reality that awaited her: cramped quarters filled with dozens of desperate people, filth permeating the air, ceaseless squabbles, and a drama far worse than anything she had experienced before. The shelters had been hastily assembled, utilizing a few villas perched on the hill, far too small to accommodate the throngs that had arrived.

Many of the individuals crammed into those shelters had witnessed horrors that Freya could scarcely fathom. Some had even taken lives. Girls like her, soft and delicate, became easy prey for humiliation in such a brutal environment. The frail old man who had momentarily shielded her could offer no real protection now.

The stark truth was that once Freya chose to ally herself with Ivor’s gang, there was no turning back. And as for Bethany’s son and grandson? They had not made it onto the boat. Their lives had been extinguished.

When Richard discovered that Wayne had murdered his mother, a fire ignited within him. Fueled by rage, he seized a knife and charged after Wayne, his heart pounding with vengeance. Bethany’s grandson insisted on joining him, his youthful determination unwavering.

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