After Surviving the Apocalypse, I Built a City in Another World

[61 Days after The Migration]

The first rays of the morning light gently filtered through the curtains and entered the room, illuminating its occupants.

Instead of the bed, however, a certain couple was currently near a wall, facing it. Garan sat on a sturdy wooden chair, back straight, and a cotton towel draped over his shoulder.

Crawling on their crib were the adorable babies who cooed as they saw their parents looking away from them for a long time. The audacity.

At this time, Althea was helping her husband get a haircut, and their babies were their reluctant audience.

”Mmhmwawa….”

”Ghmghmn…”

They continued calling on them making noises until Althea finally couldn’t take the milky voice attacks. She went to the babies to give them smooches on their soft faces.

They looked at her with those large eyes and made more noise, as if asking for more. They even cutely pouted their lips to tell her. Her heart melted, smooching their incredibly soft faces a few more times before finally lifting her head.

”Behave,” she told them before turning back to her husband, who looked at her with a blank stare, though she knew he also wanted a smooch.

She rolled her eyes, but she gave him a peck anyway. ”You, too,” she said, turning his head to make him look in front. ”Don’t move.”

”Yes, wife,” he said, being very well-behaved. Their children also watched their parents, making mild baby noises, as if communicating in their own language.

If one looked at how their cute expressions changed here and there, they’d think that this was indeed the case.

Althea stood behind Garan, and in her hand was a pair of scissors Garan manifested himself. She combed through his hair, gently untying knots, and soon the scissors resumed action.

Her emerald eyes looked at the reflection of her husband in the mirror, making sure everything was nice, neat, and symmetrical.

The mirror in front of them was something she managed to take away from the hotel back then. For now, it was the only large mirror in the territory, and it was now witnessing a simple but tender moment between a loving couple.

She carefully trimmed his hair, fingers moving with precision—practiced, and she couldn’t help but purse her lips at the amount she was cutting. ”I know it had gotten a bit long,” she said. She then cut it to the length that suited him best—practical and aesthetical—which was well above the ears.

They actually noticed this because she held on to too much of his hair in their lovemaking the previous night, and her fingers actually got tangled there.

Even when she wanted to pull out her hand, it got stuck, until she was plundered so wildly that she lost her mind and it just stayed there—tangled in his locks—until the next morning.

Thus, it led to the current scene.

As for the babies, no, they weren’t there last night. They had been deposited back early that morning because Sheila had to go to the clinic early due to a particularly large mob that found them in the middle of the night last night.

Anyway, back to the haircutting, because he was never fond of others touching him, Althea really was the one who did his hair. The only exemption was during the three months here in which he had to do himself.

Althea felt a little guilty for forgetting about this, while he felt very guilty for making her work because he knew he had been very… hard… on her the previous night and she must be very tired.

”It wasn’t that painful my love,” he said with a smile, looking at his wife via the mirror. ”I like it when you pull my hair.”

This earned him a shy knock on the head. Blushing, she proceeded to nag him. ”Yeah, but your hair is still too long. Didn’t you see Little Meatball grabbing things with his whole being? Want him to pull out your hair?”

She snapped a few more locks with passion. ”Do you want to go bald?”

”Oh no, I know you like pulling hair when making love. Hopefully, I will never get bald.”

She rolled her eyes and just continued her job, making sure it was perfect. Her husband was so handsome, how did she bear let him cut it himself!

For a while, only the sound of scissors snipping and their soft breathing (and the baby mumbles and coos of course) was heard in the room. When it was done, Althea smiled and she looked smugly at their reflection in the mirror.

”Hm, very handsome,” she whispered, and it made Garan’s eyes darken. He gestured to turn around to pull her to his thighs, but then their sharp ears heard some subtle sounds outside.

Althea blinked and walked away (avoiding Garan’s claws by accident) to the Youli window. She opened it to see raindrops falling down.

She looked at the people below who had either taken up their umbrellas (made from oiled cloth), put on their hats, or just ran for some shade before closing her windows again.

”The past few weeks the weather was really nice. It’s been a while since we saw such a downpour…”

”A great excuse to stay indoors…” Garan chuckled, unable to help himself he pulled her into his lap. He carefully took the scissors and placed them in his space, leaning down as he held her stomach with his large palm.

She gasped when she felt his calloused hands creep up her shirt. ”The children are here!”

This made him pause and he immediately wondered where to deposit them next.

However, before Garan could ’donate’ their children elsewhere, a loud ding resounded inside her head.

[Ding! Your allied territory, Bright Village (Lv3), is asking for assistance!]

…

Bright Territory.

BANG!

”Cough!”

Micheal coughed blood as he was kicked down from the Village Center platform, his entire body sliding down until he hit a panel with his back.

He groaned as he opened his eyes, trying to push himself up with his elbow. However, he immediately froze when he saw the headless corpse of Bruno.

His jaw clenched and his hands formed a painful fist. Bruno had tried to block the enemies as he sent his message to Altera. It seemed that as he was doing so, he also lost his life.

”Heh… did you think they’d still be able to save you at this point?” Gingo asked, crossing his arms and looking down at the lord of the territory.

Micheal looked at him without any expression, the former confidant now covered in the blood of his loyal comrades.

”Milord!” Immediately, Juno kicked the person he was dealing with and ran to him, going between him and Gingo, protectively holding his weapon.

Micheal couldn’t help but look at Juno, who had still been staying with him all this time.

Juno was the last confidante around him. They were either dead or…

Micheal had prided himself as someone who grew up in the underworld.

He never would’ve thought he’d be betrayed so badly. To think that the man he had trusted for years betrayed him, and the man he hired a few months ago was now protecting him.

When the announcement that they would be attacked rang, he was a little worried but he didn’t ask for any help. One was for pride, but also because he didn’t think it would be a fight that needed others.

Most of his confidantes also went against it, so he went through it with increasing confidence.

What he didn’t know was that he would be attacked from the inside even before the war. His infrastructure was sabotaged, the wells were poisoned, and people—many of whom were his guards—got sick.

And when the war started. In wars, all rules and regulations became null. This was something that hadn’t been publicised, but somehow everyone in the territory found out about it during the war.

There were many citizens who caused chaos even before the enemies got past the walls. With the leadership of a few people, the shops were ravaged, houses broken into, and many more.

It was chaos in the territory and when he realized something was wrong he went straight to the Village Center to call for help. However, he was stopped by Gingo, who he now knew was one of the people responsible for all the losses.

Fargo was a very strong territory, not weaker than Bright at all. They were trained and had guns. What was worse was that there were plenty of powerful Aborigines that didn’t go beyond the level cap.

If there was no rule limiting the number of external forces—that was, it could not exceed a percentage of the hiring territory’s strength—he’d have been crushed into a pancake a few hours in.

No, they really were crushed, because a trusted person hid all the weapons. Not only were his guards poisoned, but his weapons were stolen as well.

They stood no chance at all.

He looked at Gingo with dead eyes. Unlike the comrade who grew up with him, one who had been so supportive and always had his back, this man was just a familiar stranger—no, an enemy.

What a miscalculation, he mused, eyes looking at the blood—the blood of his comrades as well as innocent citizens who just happened to be there—that surrounded him.

His heart was unimaginably heavy.

This miscalculation cost so many lives.