The Spare's Second Chance in Apocalypse-Chapter 61: Ch : Burden of a Support- Part 1

"Are you sure you want to test me? I thought I told you that I could see the future. Do you just not believe me? Or, did you think that I won’t take precautions against your foolishness?"

She asked, her voice dropping into a dangerous tone.

The smiles faltered, a ripple of uncertainty spreading through the room.

"What do you mean?"

Lead Negotiator asked, his expression strained.

Selene leaned against the table, her fingertips pressing down just enough to make a soft thud.

"The contract we signed forbids you from interfering with my plans or harming me. Should anything happen to me, the system will interpret it as a breach of contract."

Selene warned and the impact of her words were instant. frёeweɓηovel.coɱ

The room stilled, the gravity of her words settling over them.

"Is that true?"

One of the officials whispered, panic tinting their voice.

Selene’s Insight showed her the crackling nerves, the rising anxiety. It was a bluff, of course. The contract had no such clause at present.

The contract would only take effect after the dungeon emerged, but the document had been long, filled with deliberate jargon.

She doubted they had taken the time to read every line. And her suspicions proved to be right when she saw the expressions of the people in front of her.

Lead Negotiator’s confidence wavered, his voice tight.

"We were just testing you, of course,"

He said, a strained smile pulling at his lips. It was clear that he was trying to mend the situation.

"You’ve proven yourself, Miss...?"

Selene didn’t offer her name, only letting the silence answer for her. She was more focused on the other presences she could feel outside the door.

"Stand down."

The blonde woman ordered, her voice sharp, and through her Insight, Selene felt the presence of the guards recede, the ability users pulling back.

At least these officials were keeping their word.

The officials tried to save face, their voices too bright, their gestures too open.

"Marvelous! You’ve passed our test. We had to ensure we weren’t dealing with an amateur"

One of them said, clapping his hands together. All the officials tried to keep it together, but Selene’s gaze unnerved them.

Selene allowed herself a soft scoff, the sound biting in the quiet room.

"If this is how you treat allies, it’s no wonder you’re losing ground. But I guess I can forgive you this time."

Her voice cut through their attempts at placation, and the room fell silent again, their pride bruised.

She didn’t linger, didn’t give them a chance to spin another tale. She turned on her heel, her boots quiet against the marble floor, and headed for the door.

Her Insight warned her of lingering gazes, of hands itching to give orders, but the fear she had sown held them in place.

As Selene walked down the hallway, her Insight continued to feed her information, like whispers in the wind.

The officials began speaking among themselves, their voices muffled but clear enough.

"Who the hell is she?"

"There’s nothing on the system’s database. It’s like she doesn’t exist."

"If we can’t identify her, we can’t control her. That’s dangerous."

Selene’s lips quirked, a small, satisfied smile.

Her precautions had worked—the disguises, the false records, the layers of misdirection.

She was a ghost, a shadow slipping through their grasp, and that was exactly how she wanted it.

By the time Selene reached the exit, the guards had backed off completely, some of them avoiding her gaze, unsure if she truly held the power to destroy them.

The open air hit her face, a cool breeze threading through her hair, and she breathed in deeply. The outside world was chaotic, but it was a freedom she hadn’t realized she’d missed until now.

She moved swiftly, blending into the crowds, her appearance shifting as she peeled off layers, her hair changing color, and her posture softening.

By the time she reached the corner, she was someone else entirely, just another face in the sea of survivors.

Selene allowed herself a moment of triumph, a silent pat on the back.

She had entered the lion’s den, struck a deal, and walked out unharmed. More than that—she had left them questioning, paranoid, their every move now tainted by uncertainty.

But there was no time to celebrate.

She pulled out her system screen, her fingers dancing over the interface, sending a coded message to Ethan, Zara, and Orion.

[Mission accomplished. Heading back.]

She would need to debrief, to share what she’d learned, and to adjust their plans. It was a good thing that she was quick on her feet.

And in this new world, where power was as tangible as breath, she was determined to be the one who decided who got to breathe.

With the government pacified and the contract inked, Selene finally felt as though the weight of survival had eased, if only by a fraction.

______

It is said that bad times pass slowly, but for Selene, it felt like only a few hours had passed. And every time she thought she passed her insecurities and left them behind, they decided to resurface.

A month passed and her small group focused on raiding dungeons, gathering resources, and slowly building their influence.

In the public eye, they were a mystery, a nameless team whose faces rarely showed up on screens.

Selene had ensured that she remained an enigma, always masked, her role hidden.

She had intentionally avoided combat, instead focusing on strategy, logistics, and managing their resources.

The media, hungry for stories in this new world, had noticed.

On television, pundits often criticized her, referring to her as the "masked loafer", the "lazy one", or simply "the weird girl who stands back and does nothing."

Selene had brushed it off at first, but the constant jabs began to gnaw at her.

Each careless comment pulled at the old scars, the wounds from her past life where she had been labeled useless and unwanted.

Despite her best efforts to move forward, the ghosts of her trauma remained, their fingers cold around her throat.