Surviving the Apocalypse: All I Want Is to Find a Husband
Chapter 206: Infiltrate The Base (2)

Chapter 206: Infiltrate The Base (2)

"This one is Brennan Cross, and that one is Morgan Harlow." Medeia pointed at the unconscious soldiers.

"Since Brennan also has the ability to manipulate water, I’ll take his identity. Morgan, on the other hand, can fly. Well, you can do that, right?"

Lucian securely tied them up before dragging their bodies behind a stack of wooden crates. "Not a problem."

Medeia tapped her fingers against her thigh, thinking. "But ... weren’t these soldiers supposed to deliver premium supplies to the lieutenant? If we don’t do it, won’t that make him suspicious right away?"

"Don’t worry about it." Lucian checked their dog tags, his eyes scanning their ranks. "One of them is a sergeant. In the military, it’s common for higher ranks to order lower-ranked soldiers to do their tasks. No one will question it."

In other words, Lucian just needed to pass the task down to the lower-ranking soldiers so the lieutenant could still receive his high-grade food.

Lucian then grabbed a cloth and covered half of Medeia’s face with it before tucking her long hair beneath the soldier’s hat.

She wasn’t exactly short, but compared to the soldier she was impersonating, the difference was noticeable.

To fix that, Lucian slipped an insole into her boots, giving her a few extra inches of height.

"Just let me do the talking," he reminded her.

"I know," Medeia huffed, slightly annoyed.

It wasn’t that Lucian didn’t want her to talk, but the moment she spoke, it would be obvious she was a woman. She had tried lowering her voice before, but the only result was her nearly choking to death in a coughing fit.

She didn’t even understand how Lucian’s voice could be so deep without choking to death.

After making sure they didn’t look like intruders, Lucian walked out of the room first, followed by Medeia.

He acted completely natural, standing like a soldier, walking like a soldier, and even speaking like a soldier giving orders to his subordinates.

On the other hand, Medeia had to make sure her walk wasn’t too slutty. Not that she had ever tried to be one—well, being Lucian’s slut was fine—but her waist naturally swayed whenever she walked.

She also had to resist the urge to instinctively loop her arm around Lucian’s like she usually did when they walked together.

Damn it! He had spoiled her too much!

"Are you alright?" Lucian murmured, giving her a quick glance.

Medeia just gave him a nod in response.

A few moments later, they arrived at a structure that seemed to be the metal cube because, quite literally, it looked exactly like a metal cube.

There were no windows, no other access points or visibly ventilations. There was only a single steel door at the front.

Even the door wasn’t that large, just wide enough to push in food carts and laundry bins.

Just from observing these details alone, Medeia was certain, this place was designed to keep the people inside from escaping.

The real question was: how many kids were locked up in there?

Lucian took a step forward, his voice remained calm as he addressed the guards stationed outside the cube. "I heard you’re recruiting people to work here."

Both soldiers had blank, empty stares, so lifeless that, for a moment, Medeia almost mistook them for mannequins.

If not for the subtle movement of their pupils shifting toward Lucian, she might have actually believed they weren’t real.

Are all soldiers like this?

That didn’t seem to be the case. If the rumors Brennan and Morgan had mentioned were true, then not all soldiers were controlled like this when they worked at the metal cube.

But what determined which soldiers were manipulated and which ones were left with free will? Did they undergo some kind of psychological test before being recruited?

Medeia subtly scanned her surroundings, feeling an odd sense of unease.

The security around the cube was shockingly poor.

In fact, the moment Lucian asked to join, the guards immediately handed him a form without hesitation.

What the actual fuck.

’Is this really Ethan’s military base, or did you send us to the wrong location?’ Medeia questioned the system suspiciously.

[The system never makes mistakes, Host.]

[Isn’t this a good thing? You got in easily, so why are you complaining?]

Well, yeah. But getting into hell was easy too, then it was surviving and getting out that was the real challenge.

That was why Medeia didn’t like it when things felt too easy.

"Follow me," one of the soldiers said after recording their names and mutant abilities on the form.

His tone was completely flat, so monotone that even the system’s voice had more emotion than he did.

The metal door slid open as the soldier approached. The moment they stepped inside, a sharp medicinal scent filled Medeia’s nose, making her frown.

The Red Star Alliance’s medical bay also had plenty of drugs, but the smell was never this overwhelming. Besides, where were they even getting so much medicine in the middle of an apocalypse?

The interior was nothing like the cold, industrial exterior. Everything was stark white from the ceiling, the floor, even the furniture.

But unlike most military facilities, there wasn’t a single piece of metal furniture.

Everything was made of plastic.

Is it because plastic is more durable in an apocalyptic environment?

This was exactly why humans should have never mass-produced plastic in the first place. At least now that the planet was ruined, they didn’t have to worry about being buried under mountains of plastic instead of water.

Lucian broke the silence. "Have you been stationed here long?" he asked, directing his question toward the soldier leading them.

No response.

Lucian tried again. "I heard some soldiers were punished by the general for breaking the rules here. Not that I’m trying to poke my nose into the General’s business, but ... you know, I’m just a little curious."

Medeia wasn’t expecting an answer, but to her surprise, the soldier finally spoke.

"As long as you don’t do anything stupid, nothing bad will happen to you."

His tone was stiff, almost robotic, but at least he was capable of speech.

Or was that just a template response?

After nearly ten minutes of walking through identical white corridors, they finally stopped in front of a door labeled "The Recruitment Office."

"Before you can officially work here, you’ll need to pass a test first." The soldier knocked on the door before pushing it open.

"Good luck."