Chapter 403 The Deal
“Our food’s gone,” the boy murmured.
“I still have some.” A quiet voice answered in his car.
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He looked up to see his father, pale and frowning, pull a chicken leg from his sleeve and press it into his hand.
“We’ll eat it back home,” the man said, patting his son’s head before bending to pick up his half–empty soup bowl. Using his bread, he soaked up thest of the broth from the ground and started back with him.
They found a secluded spot just outside the dump. The air reeked, but the ce was safe. The man took the chicken leg from its stic bag and handed it to the boy.
“Dad, you eat too.”
“I’ve had enough of it long ago. You eat,” the man said.
“That was before. Things are different now,” the boy replied stubbornly. “We’ll share it.”
He was 13, maybe 14, but before the apocalypse, he’d still been an elementary school kid. Two and a half years of surviving this world had stripped away every trace of innocence.
His father met his determined gaze and finally smiled. Taking the chicken leg, he tore off the part that had already been bitten–keeping the stic bag between his fingers—and dropped the rest into the soup bowl.
“That’s enough for me. The rest is yours.”
“But, Dad-”
“If you don’t eat, I’ll tan your hide,” the man said firmly.
The boy didn’t hesitate anymore. He took the broth–soaked chicken leg his father had given back to him, tore off a <i>piece </i>of bread, and ate with relish.
“Good?”
“Yeah! It’s delicious!”
His father smiled, poured the remaining soup into the stic bag to wash down every trace of oil, then bit into the bread that had been soaking in broth for too long.
Just as he was about to chew, there was a sharp crack in his chest, and the taste of blood flooded his mouth. He coughed hard, spattering the stic bag with bright red.
“Dad!”
The man’s coughing grew harsher, each fit wracking his lungs until he couldn’t stop.
“Dad!”
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10:33 Fri, 22 Aug
Chapter 403 The Deal
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The boy dropped his food and rushed to rub his father’s back, only to feel the swollen patch where the blow hadnded earlier.
“Dad!”
“I’m fine,” the man rasped, forcing down the cough.
“No, you’re not!” The boy stood up. “I’m going to find him!”
“What for?” The man grabbed him tightly. “Have you forgotten? This camp doesn’t allow unhealthy people to live.”
The boy froze, fists clenching, lips pressed tight. As his father’s face grew paler by the second, the tears finally spilled over. “But Dad, I can’t just let you-”
“Hey, you want to save your dad?”
The boy turned toward the clear, young voice. Through his tears, he saw a striking young woman in a sleek, immactebat suit–the kind of woman no one in their slums ever saw.
“Who are you?”
“I have medicine that can help your dad. But it won’t be free.” Theresa stood before them, arms crossed.
“If you can save my dad, I’ll do anything you ask–be your servant, yourborer–anything!”
That was exactly what she wanted to hear. Studying the boy’s tear–streaked but unyielding face, she tossed him a small system–issued emergency pill.
“From now on, you follow my orders. Whatever I tell you to do,
you
do it.”
The boy caught the pill, pressed his lips together, and slipped it into his father’s mouth. The man was still coughing violently, clutching his mouth, nose, and chest as his lungs seized. His pale face flushed crimson with the effort.
But after swallowing, his coughing gradually subsided. The flushed, oxygen–starved color faded, and— more astonishing still–the boy could see his father’splexion improving.
“Cough… cough… Darian…”
“Dad!” Darian te’s eyes lit up as he saw his father upright and breathing easier. “How do you feel now?”
I feel fine. My back doesn’t even hurt.”
Darian stared at the young woman in shock.
She’s incredible! One tiny pill, and she healed Dadpletely<i>! </i>
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