Surviving the Apocalypse: All I Want Is to Find a Husband-Chapter 212: The Perfect Frame-Up

Two researchers immediately rushed into the records room. They frantically checked the shelves, flipping through documents. Their faces went pale as they realized that several important files were missing.

Medeia didn’t waste a second and she bolted toward the door. But before she could slip away—

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

Suddenly, alarms blared throughout the entire third floor and soldiers poured in from all directions, their weapons raised and ready.

[Countdown: 00:00:46]

Shit.

She had spent too much time skimming through document titles and completely ignored the timer. A loud clank suddenly echoed through the halls.

Thick metal walls began descending from the ceiling, sealing off all exits. The gap between the closing barriers was too small for her to slip through, which meant she needed a new plan.

Without wasting any time, she moved swiftly to the back of the soldier formation, deactivated her camouflage cloak, and tucked it back into her inventory.

There was a blind spot near the closed gate, a place just out of view of the control room’s surveillance system.

Now, if anyone checked the surveillance footage, they wouldn’t be able to tell whether she had just arrived with the soldiers or had been there the whole time.

Without hesitation, Medeia pulled a rifle from her Space Pocket and seamlessly merged into the formation.

The moment she stood in the middle of the soldiers, she immediately regretted it.

She wrinkled her nose because the stench of sweat was unbearable.

It seemed like water was truly scarce here, making it impossible for them to bathe twice a day. But these were trained soldiers, constantly engaging in physical activity.

If they weren’t washing often enough, their body odor alone could probably knock out a dog in seconds.

A researcher in a lab coat stepped forward, addressing the soldiers. "The control room can’t identify the intruder." His expression was tense as he continued, "We’re not certain, but I suspect this person has the ability to disappear."

"Maybe he escaped," the old man with graying hair said, his voice filled with certainty. "Or maybe ... he’s right here among you."

Medeia didn’t react, remaining calm despite being under pressure. She had worked under extreme conditions in hell for thousands of years, so something like this was nothing new to her.

"Searching for him here is pointless," the old man continued, his sharp eyes scanning the group. "He can move when the alarm sounds. But considering how quickly the door sealed shut, I highly doubt he managed to slip away.

"And based on his ability, which can make himself invisible but not the objects he touches, I’d estimate his skill level to be Grade B ... maybe even Grade A."

"An ability of that level must have a time limit," he said. "So ... show me your badges and dog tags. I need to verify your identities."

A soldier stepped forward, his face filled in anger. "Are you accusing one of us of being a traitor?! How dare you?!"

Medeia watched their quarrel with interest as the researchers and soldiers bickered, throwing insults at each other.

The soldiers were offended at the implication that one of them could be disloyal, while the researchers, equally frustrated, believed the soldiers were letting their pride cloud their judgment.

The room filled with suspicion and hostility, a battlefield of intellect and emotion, and Medeia was thoroughly entertained.

If their argument dragged on any longer, Medeia might as well grab some popcorn and enjoy the show.

Unfortunately, it ended too soon, thanks to a beautiful woman from the neurology department who stepped between them. "Stop! Just stop! Don’t you guys realize how ridiculous this sounds?!"

She turned to the soldiers, her voice softening. "Come on, boys. This isn’t like you."

Medeia’s eye twitched. This woman was acting exactly like the heroine from one of those cliché romance novels she had read before.

"We’re not saying you’re traitors," the woman continued with a sweet smile. "Our leader just thinks the intruder might have disguised himself as one of you so he wouldn’t seem suspicious after failing to escape."

She tilted her head slightly, playing innocent. "Come on, just show your badge and ID. It’s not a big deal, right?"

Sister, you’re doing a fantastic job.

Medeia still thought she was acting like a soap opera lead, but so what? In this kind of world, if a woman could enslave men with beauty alone, then good for her.

Too bad that beautiful lady didn’t have a kind heart. If she were a fairytale character, she wouldn’t be the princess, she’d be the wicked witch poisoning children’s candy. Which meant, at some point, this woman would have to go.

"Fine. That seems fair," one of the soldiers finally agreed. The others followed, pulling out their badges and dog tags. Medeia did the same, flashing the identity she had stolen—Brennan Cross.

"Corporal Cross?"

Medeia froze for a split second as the soldier next to her called the fake name.

"Why are you wearing a mask? Are you sick?"

She didn’t answer right away because she couldn’t speak without giving herself away. Instead, she lowered her hat slightly to hide her eyes and gestured that she couldn’t talk.

The soldier frowned. "You can’t speak? But weren’t you just singing at the top of your lungs with the others this morning?"

This bastard.

Medeia should’ve taken the identity of an introverted soldier who barely spoke.

"Oh! Did you lose your voice from singing too much?"

Medeia quickly nodded and gave a thumbs-up, pretending his guess was spot on.

"But I think you should take off your hat. Covering your face like that will only make people suspicious."

Medeia clicked her tongue silently. Great. So much for staying low and slipping through unnoticed.

As the researchers started walking toward her, she subtly signaled the soldier beside her to lean in.

"What’s wrong?" he asked, clueless.

Without a word, Medeia pulled him closer and quickly slipped an unimportant document into the back of his bulletproof vest. She gave his back a firm pat—casual enough not to raise suspicion—before nudging him forward toward the researchers.

Before he could even ask what the hell she was doing, the researchers had already stopped in front of him, demanding to see his badge and ID plate.

Just as he reached for his badge, the document suddenly slipped out from his vest, landing right in plain sight.

Medeia casually nudged the soldier beside her and pointed at the fallen paper.

"Hey! He’s hiding the missing document!" one of the soldiers shouted.

All eyes snapped to the poor soldier.

The poor soldier’s face turned pale the moment he noticed the document lying between his feet. "No! No! I didn’t steal it! I wasn’t even here when it went missing! I just got here when the alarm went off!"

"Can you prove it?!"

"I ..." The soldier’s voice faltered. He had only just stepped out of his quarters when the alarm rang, meaning he had no witnesses to back up his claim.

"Arrest him now!"

"No! It’s not me, it’s him!" The soldier desperately pointed at Medeia. "Isn’t he the more suspicious one?! He’s wearing a mask and a hat indoors! And he patted my back just moments ago, he must have been the one who planted that document on me!"

A soldier snatched the identity plate from Medeia’s hand, frowning as he read it.

"Corporal Brennan Cross? It says here you can manipulate water. If you’re really him, then prove it, show us your ability!"

"That’s right! If he can’t do it, then he must be a fa—"

Before the soldier could finish his sentence, Medeia casually flicked her fingers and a splash of water hit his face.

The entire room fell into stunned silence.

"He’s really Corporal Cross!" someone blurted out.

Anyone with water manipulation abilities was considered a valuable asset to the base. Because of that, no one dared to act recklessly around Medeia anymore.

"We’re sorry for doubting you!" one of the soldiers quickly apologized before turning back to the accused man. "Arrest that traitor! How dare he lie on his records and fail to report his mutant ability?!"

"I don’t have another ability! I can only shoot bullets through my fingers!"

BANG!

He fired a bullet through his finger at a soldier nearby, hitting him in the arm.

"He’s trying to kill us!"

"Take him down!"

The panicked soldier yelled back, "I wouldn’t be shooting if you idiots just listened to me!"

Chaos exploded across the third floor. Bullets flew, soldiers scrambled, and researchers dove under tables, clutching their precious equipment like their lives depended on it.

At this point, it didn’t even matter if he was innocent of theft or not because he had destroyed valuable property, injured a soldier, and caused absolute mayhem. He was screwed either way.

Poor guy.

That’s what happens when you try to have a conversation with a demon.

Just as the soldiers finally tackled him to the ground, a steel wall lifted into the ceiling, opening a perfect escape route.

Without hesitation, Medeia slipped away, vanishing into the shadows.

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