Chapter 100: Evacuation Dispute, Continuing to Train

Chapter 100: Chapter 100: Evacuation Dispute, Continuing to Train

The arrival of the rescue team brought hope, but it also brought new choices and the anxiety that came with them.

Not everyone would be—or rather, could be—immediately rescued and evacuated.

Seraphina Sullivan was pragmatic about the situation. In fact, she felt safer staying in her own home.

She lived on the top floor. No matter how much higher the floodwaters rose, it would be some time before they reached her apartment.

Her apartment was well-stocked with supplies. And with Sean Chandler and Flora there, it was far safer than going to an unfamiliar shelter filled with all sorts of people.

Sure enough, the rescue team had clear priorities. Their assault boats and kayaks were primarily evacuating residents trapped on the lower floors or those whose homes were already flooded and uninhabitable.

Many residents living on upper floors, like Seraphina Sullivan, were advised to remain at home for the time being.

Reactions among the residents varied.

Some, like Seraphina Sullivan, had already stocked up on supplies or simply had a calmer disposition. They expressed their understanding and willingness to wait.

But others, who were unprepared or felt a profound lack of security, fell into a panic.

"Why won’t you let us leave? My apartment might be on a high floor, but we’re almost out of food! Are you trying to leave us here to starve to death?!"

"Exactly! Who knows how much longer this rain will last? When will the relief supplies arrive? What if they never do?"

"Let us on the boats! We have to get to the shelter!"

"People are already breaking in and robbing places! It’s only going to get more chaotic. I want to leave!"

Emotional residents began to gather near the second-floor window that led to the rescue boats, all clamoring and shouting at the personnel outside.

There was even some pushing and shoving, and the scene became chaotic.

The rescuers were busy evacuating those in most urgent need while also trying their best to calm the anxious residents. They patiently explained that the shelters had limited capacity and that they had to prioritize those in the most danger, their voices growing hoarse from the effort.

Just then, there was another knock on Seraphina Sullivan’s door.

This time, it wasn’t Keith Griffith’s group. It was Miss Webb from across the hall.

Her face was etched with worry and urgency.

"Sullivan, you saw, right? They aren’t letting those of us on the upper floors evacuate; we have to stay here. But if we stay, food and water are going to be a huge problem! I don’t have much left at my place. Don’t you think we should go down and ask them what the plan is for resupply? When can they bring things up? They can’t seriously expect us to just sit here and wait, can they?"

Of course, Seraphina Sullivan herself wasn’t short on food, but she couldn’t let that secret out.

She immediately put on a worried expression and nodded. "You’re right, Miss Webb. We should go get some clear answers. Just give me a minute. I’ll change and go down with you."

She and Sean Chandler quickly threw on the raincoats and rain boots they had prepared beforehand and followed Miss Webb down the stairs. The stairwell was heavy with moisture, and the walls were beaded with condensation, but thankfully, it hadn’t flooded yet.

When they reached the second-floor landing, it was already packed with people. They were all scrambling to shout through the window at the rescuers outside, creating a deafening clamor.

One middle-aged man was especially agitated. He was leaning halfway out the window, yelling at the rescue boat, "We may live on a high floor, but we don’t have a single grain of rice left! My children and parents are starving! Are you going to watch us starve to death by not letting us evacuate?! Do you people even care if we live or die?!"

His shouts resonated with many in the crowd, who chimed in with their own demands for immediate food or a spot on the boats.

The leader of the rescue team was a dark-complexioned military officer who looked utterly exhausted. He held a megaphone, trying to make his voice heard over the din.

"Everyone, quiet down! Listen to me! We have a plan for supplies. We will be organizing the distribution of emergency food and drinking water to the buildings where residents are staying, but this takes time! It also requires order! Please, trust us! Prioritizing the evacuation of those in critical condition allows us to save more lives! Please, just hold on a little longer!"

But in the face of the crowd’s panic, his explanation seemed pale and powerless.

Seraphina Sullivan and Miss Webb, squeezed at the back of the crowd, watched the chaotic scene with mixed feelings.

She knew the soldiers were telling the truth, but she could also understand her neighbors’ desperation.

Miss Webb tried to push forward to ask her own questions, but Seraphina held her back. "Miss Webb," she whispered, "it’s too chaotic right now. We won’t get any real answers. Let’s wait until they’re done evacuating this group, then we can find an opportunity to ask that officer about the specific supply distribution plan."

"I suppose that’s our only choice," Miss Webb replied.

The atmosphere on the way back was somber.

Watching the chaotic scene still unfolding below and the officer’s weary yet resolute expression, Miss Webb was deeply worried.

Her thoughts turned to her son.

Seraphina tried to console her. "Miss Webb, please don’t worry too much. I’m sure Mr. Brooks is alright. He’s probably out there helping somewhere else, just like this rescue team."

At the mention of her son, Justin Brooks, a look of pride flashed across Miss Webb’s face, only to be immediately overshadowed by a deeper worry.

"Sigh... Yes, Brooks has always had a strong sense of duty, ever since he was a boy... But that’s exactly why I’m so worried. Look at the state of the world now. For people like him, out there on rescue missions... what if they run into someone with ill intentions?"

Faced with a mother’s simple, earnest worry, Seraphina was momentarily at a loss for how to offer comfort.

’The awakening of Power was like opening Pandora’s box; the line between good and evil was decided in a single thought.’

’No one could guarantee that Justin Brooks would encounter allies instead of enemies.’

The two walked back upstairs in silence.

Just as they reached her front door, Seraphina saw something unexpected.

The family that Keith Griffith had brought over—the one that had tried to force their way into her home—was coming out of the apartment next door!

The burly man, Samuel Webb, saw Seraphina Sullivan and Sean Chandler and immediately plastered on that same simple, almost sheepish smile, as if their unpleasant previous encounter had never happened.

But Seraphina subconsciously ignored Samuel Webb’s expression. Her eyes quickly swept over the old woman beside him, whose gaze was still hostile, and the bratty child who was trying to make a face at her.

The moment the old woman saw Seraphina, she let out a loud "HUMPH!" through her nose and turned her head away, as if another glance would soil her eyes.

The bratty kid followed her lead.

Seraphina couldn’t even be bothered to roll her eyes. She simply ignored these inconsequential people, took out her key, said goodbye to Miss Webb, and went straight into her apartment with Sean Chandler, treating the family at the door as if they were thin air.

SLAM. The door closed, temporarily shutting out the turmoil outside.

Back inside, Seraphina took stock of her situation.

’The heavy rain’s knocked out the power. It’s been three days already. This can’t go on for much longer.’

The solar panels she had prepared were basically useless in the continuous overcast and rainy weather.

After a moment’s thought, she took the small, silent generator out of her Space. She set it up in the bathroom, ran a power strip from it, and began charging her essential devices.

After taking care of these chores, she began her daily, unskippable training routine.

Under her continuous practice and focused Control, her Scorching Hand Skill could now generate a noticeably higher and more stable temperature than before. She could even see a faint distortion in the air around her palm, caused by the intense heat.

During a break in her workout, she picked up her charging phone to check for news.

Online, there was growing discussion about the benefits of Players joining official organizations.

Many people were sharing positive videos and news reports about official Players like Justin Brooks participating in rescue efforts and maintaining order.

The comment sections were filled with praise and admiration, creating an impression that everything was heading in the right direction. It seemed as though the combination of powerful Players and the nation’s strength could guide humanity through the crisis.

But only Players who had actually been through the ’instances’ knew that all this ’progress’ was built on quicksand.

The Sword of Damocles, known as the Doomsday Game, hung perpetually over every Player’s head, ready to fall at any moment.