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

After the funeral, the territory resumed its activities. Everyone’s pace was much slower than usual though, and understandably so.

Although every shop was operational, the usual energy was not there; although the parks and the playgrounds were open, no one was there.

This was the most dangerous war they had yet, and this was the time they were fully made aware of the level differences between Villages and Towns.

If they hadn’t been so lucky and did not have the mercenaries, the Golds, Sir Hoffen, Sir Gregor, and the like... the casualties could’ve easily reached hundreds.

Hundreds. Maybe even more than a thousand if they were careless.

What a terrifying thought.

The wake-up call jolted people down from their pedestals.

In the end, while they were at the village level, although there had been challenges, Alterra’s wars and fights had always run smoothly.

Whether they admitted it or not, and even if they prepared well, unconsciously they had grown confident and a bit complacent.

At the same time, they were not too discouraged. The level of monsters they had around was stronger now, so they had more resources to grow!

Stronger! Must get stronger!

...

The hospital was still at full capacity. Rather, it exceeded it.

They even had to create makeshift clinics in the open area surrounding the hospitals.

Moving forward, the fights would not get easier, and their enemies would increase as their population did the same.

Althea already planned for two more hospitals to be built as soon as they had walled the new area. It was fine now, but as a town, their population would increase even faster.

The clinics were also filled with less critical patients, with the hospital strictly taking only life-and-death patients in the wards unless there was excess space.

One of the patients in the wards was Tim. He was there with several others who were also left half-dead during the war.

His legs was crippled. It wasn’t amputated, but the bones were broken and, because his level wasn’t high enough, it’d be troublesome to regain it.

Beside him were two women, squeezing in with other visitors. There was limited seating for visitors at the hospital, and each bed could only have two seats for loved ones and friends.

Beside Tim’s bedside were his sister Tilda and his former lover, Hana. The two of them sat without speaking to each other. Hana was the picture of a good wife, demure and quiet, peeling apples and oranges, while Tilda’s foot was continuously tapping on the ground, evidently impatient.

Hana frowned, a little annoyed, but did not speak up for a while. Only when Tilda took the orange she was peeling for Tim did she finally snap. ”I’m preparing these for the patient.”

”He’s obviously not waking up any time soon,” Tilda said rather coldly as she chewed on the food. ”He’s my brother. I know him.”

”Still...” Hana said, wanting to retort, but the woman glared at her and would definitely make noise if she didn’t just agree.

Hana sighed, proceeding to serve the unconscious man.

Anyway, after another ten minutes of sitting, Tilda eventually got impatient and stood up.

”Where are you going?”

”You can take care of him,” she said. ”I’m going to get some fresh air.”

Hana looked at her, and sighed. Similarly, some of the patients in the ward were Tim’s roommates. They knew that Tim had gotten into so much trouble because of them.

Their looks were judgy and Tilda wanted to snap at them. ”You think the hospital bills will pay for themselves?”

”What?” Hana looked at her oddly. Citizens had insurance, and so did those people who joined the war, so the treatment was free for them. Although Tim didn’t join the vanguards, he still fought enemies, and he therefore did not have to pay hospital bills.

So what was she on about?

”This is your brother...”

”He’ll survive, the doctors say so,” she said. ”I’ll come by again tomorrow.”

Tilda shrugged and walked out of the hospital, going to who-knew-where.

Hana bit her lips. She was a fool for even listening to her, even by just a bit. She was an idiot who was so muddleheaded she wanted to bump her head against the wall many times.

She indeed loved Ansel. More importantly, she loved the perfect idea of him, the life with him, the life she could experience with him.

However, reality slapped her right in the face—figuratively and literally (with the help of Tilda).

She regretted so many things while she was in prison, and—unexpectedly—the primary image that broke her heart was Tim’s shocked, angry, and depressed state before they parted.

Tim was the only boyfriend she had after Ansel. After all, back then, she only liked the redhead. How could she date anyone else?

Then the disaster happened and she needed someone to hold on to. Out of her many suitors—some of whom were outright disgusting—Tim was the one who made her most comfortable.

At the time, she believed she had simply settled. She might like him, but she did not love him.

However, when she saw Tim dying, her heart dropped and she felt weak as if she was dying herself.

It was weird how people tended to look so far away when their hearts were clearly somewhere near. The old memories, the old feelings, and the possibility of a better life blinded her and she was easily convinced to do the wrong thing.

Her eyes watered as she looked at the pale man. She slowly lifted her arms to touch his thin, cold hands.

She had taken him for granted before, not realizing how much she depended on him, not just materialistically, but also emotionally and spiritually.

After all, if all she had were the good memories with Ansel, she’d have gone insane with longing, especially with the stark contrasts. Instead, she was fine. A bit hungry, but she had never lost hope and never lost herself.

Tim had been her anchor through all that suffering. His kind smile, and his pure affection for her, was what had truly kept her sane.

She lost that now..., and she wondered: was there a chance of ever getting it back?