Chapter 185: Keith Griffith’s Little Scheme

Chapter 185: Chapter 185: Keith Griffith’s Little Scheme

At that moment, Keith Griffith was shrinking back behind the crowd, his eyes flickering as he buried most of his face in the thick collar of his cotton coat.

In truth, he didn’t want to get involved in this farce targeting Seraphina Sullivan’s family.

After all, Sean Chandler was a Player, and a powerful one at that.

But then he remembered what Morton had told him in private.

If he could find a way to get Sean Chandler to join the organization they were forming...

Then his, Keith Griffith’s, status within the organization was bound to rise.

’First, I’ll let this bunch of idiots cause a scene. Let Seraphina Sullivan and Sean Chandler see the ugly faces and moral blackmail of these neighbors. Make them disgusted and wary of ordinary people. When they’re isolated and helpless, I’ll extend an olive branch. I’ll earn their goodwill and gratitude, and the chance of him accepting my invitation will be much higher.’

As Keith Griffith ran through his calculations, the corner of his mouth curled into a faint, sinister smile.

Not only had he done nothing to stop it, but he had also been subtly fanning the flames during the neighbors’ previous complaints.

Initially, when some people with dwindling food supplies came to him, a member of the property management staff, he had immediately deflected the issue.

He constantly emphasized the food shortage and the fact that official rescue had yet to arrive.

He insinuated that if no one risked going out to find supplies, they would all just be waiting to die.

Panic and anxiety fermented quickly in the freezing temperatures.

When someone mentioned Sean Chandler, from Seraphina Sullivan’s place on the 32nd floor...

Keith Griffith had "reminded" them at just the right moment:

"Since he’s a Player, he might have already been registered with the officials. In that case, you could say he’s an ’official’ himself, right? And shouldn’t officials be serving us?"

His words were like a spark in a barrel of oil, instantly igniting the crowd’s smoldering sense of entitlement.

And so, it led to the current scene: an indignant mob blocking the doorway.

Keith Griffith rubbed his stiff, frozen hands and huddled deeper into his coat.

’This damn weather is going to freeze a person to death... No, I have to make plans for myself, too. See if I can become a Player. I’ve heard the Doomsday Game is dangerous, but with an Ability, maybe I can save my own skin.’

Just as he was thinking this...

CREAK.

The tightly shut, reinforced security door to Seraphina Sullivan’s apartment swung open!

Sean Chandler’s tall figure appeared in the doorway. His face was as dark as storm clouds as his gaze swept over the faces outside—some agitated, some greedy, some guilty.

He didn’t release his Werewolf Form, but the murderous aura, forged through countless life-and-death struggles, still silenced the clamoring crowd in an instant. Many subconsciously took half a step back.

Then, everyone heard him speak.

"Do you all think that just because I’m a Player registered with the officials, I have an obligation and a responsibility to follow your orders and serve you?"

Sean Chandler’s voice wasn’t loud, yet it carried an oppressive weight.

It was colder than the wind and snow outside, chilling them to the core.

"If so, you are dead wrong!"

The intangible pressure radiating from Sean Chandler suddenly intensified. The neighbors at the door felt their breath catch, as if targeted by a dangerous beast, and their faces turned pale.

Seeing that the atmosphere was about to freeze over completely, possibly even escalating into a conflict...

Keith Griffith, hiding in the back, knew it was time for him, the "peacemaker," to make his entrance.

He quickly squeezed out of the crowd, his face plastered with a seemingly sincere smile as he tried to smooth things over.

"Whoa there, Mr. Chandler, don’t be angry, please! We’re all neighbors, living right here in the same building. Why make the atmosphere so tense?"

As he spoke, he waved his hands at both sides. "Everyone just calm down, take a step back. We can talk this out nicely!"

Behind Sean Chandler, Seraphina Sullivan watched coldly as Keith Griffith squeezed out of the crowd to play mediator, her brow furrowing even tighter.

The man seemed to be de-escalating the situation, but the timing of his appearance and his choice of words all carried a sense of deliberate manipulation.

’This guy’s shown up again... It seems he’s the one who instigated the neighbors to suddenly show up at our door.’

Seraphina felt more certain than ever that she had to get Keith Griffith under Control as soon as possible and figure out what his scheme was.

His constant scheming in the shadows was getting on her nerves.

For now, Seraphina suppressed her impatience. She wanted to see what game this man was trying to play.

Keith Griffith put on a helpless yet sincere expression and spoke to Seraphina Sullivan and Sean Chandler.

"Mr. Chandler, Miss Sullivan, it’s not that everyone wanted to disturb you. It’s just... the weather out there is terrifying!"

He pointed at the vast expanse of white outside the window, his tone laced with just the right amount of panic.

"This blizzard has been raging for days with no sign of stopping. Many families are almost out of their stockpiled food, and that’s not even mentioning the threat of the water and power going out. We can last a while without food, but if the temperature keeps dropping like this... everyone in this entire building will probably freeze to death right here!"

His words did indeed highlight the two most deadly crises of their current environment.

Food shortages and the freezing cold.

As if to prove his point, a flurry of hurried footsteps and a young man’s choked sobs echoed from the hallway.

"SOB... My grandpa... he’s gone! He froze to death!"

The crowd looked toward the sound and saw a young man in his early twenties scrambling toward them, his face streaked with tears and despair.

Someone nearby recognized him and sighed softly, "That’s Parker’s grandson... Parker was ninety. He barely survived the earlier rainstorms and floods, but to think... to think this sudden cold snap would... sigh!"

This sudden news of a death landed like a heavy stone in everyone’s heart, and a wave of panic spread instantly.

"Parker froze to death... will we be next?"

"Where’s the rescue? Where are the officials? Why aren’t they here yet?"

"If this keeps up, are we all going to end up like Parker?"

Amid the sorrowful and fearful murmurs...

Seraphina noticed many people’s gazes turning back to her and Sean Chandler.

This time, their expressions were filled with accusation and resentment.

It was as if Parker’s death, and the fate of freezing and starving that awaited them, were all caused by her and Sean Chandler’s "failure to act despite having the ability"!

Seraphina was baffled.

’Have these people’s brains frozen over?’

’How can they blame us for someone else freezing to death?’

Keith Griffith took it all in, gloating inwardly. The situation was developing exactly as he had anticipated.

He turned back to Seraphina Sullivan and Sean Chandler, his tone even more "earnest" than before.

"Miss Sullivan, Mr. Chandler, we really didn’t come here today to force you. We know it’s dangerous."

He glanced pointedly at Sean Chandler. "But, Mr. Chandler is a Player. His physical fitness and survival skills must be much stronger than us ordinary people. We... we were just hoping, for the sake of being neighbors, that Mr. Chandler could help everyone out. Go find some supplies to fight the cold, or even just a little food... Please, it would be saving all of our lives!"

He had just slapped them with the heavy mantles of "a Player’s responsibility" and "saving lives."