Picked Up a Superpower Kid in the End Times

It has been half a year since the apocalypse began.

I dragged my battered body back, clutching the medicine bottle and food in my arms, expecting to be greeted by Chloe's kisses and Marcus's praise. But to my surprise, the moment I opened the door, I saw Chloe lazily straddling Marcus's lap , kissing him as if no one else was around.

“Look who’s come crawling back,” Marcus drawled, not even bothering to adjust his posture. “You’ve been gone long enough, you stupid dog.”

“Chloe?” My voice was hoarse . “What…what does this mean?”

She rolled her eyes and slowly stood up from Marcus. " What do you look like, a pathetic piece of trash?" she sneered. "You really think I love you? You're nothing but a porter . Marcus is the real man, and you... are only fit like a dog to pick up bones."

He came over and pinched my wound hard.

Pain exploded through my nerve endings . I screamed and my knees buckled, causing me to collapse to my knees.

“You’ve been squeezed dry, kid.” Marcus breathed into my ear. He bent down, pulled open my backpack that had fallen to the ground, and roughly yanked out the food and medicine.

Then, he pulled a handful of high-grade compressed biscuits from his pocket 。

—a ration I'd never even seen in the shelter.。

It was shoved deep into my backpack.

“It’s time to clean house.” Marcus grabbed me by the collar like a dead dog and dragged me out of the room.

He threw me roughly onto the muddy ground in the central courtyard. Within seconds, the survivors of the shelter—those I had fed and protected—surrounded me .

"Listen up, all of you!" Marcus roared, holding my backpack high in front of the crowd, deliberately letting the high-grade rations he'd stuffed inside roll into the mud along with my supplies. "I've caught this rat! While you were starving, he was hoarding the best stuff! He kept all the best supplies for himself!"

A collective gasp erupted from the crowd.

"That's what I brought back..." I coughed with difficulty, spitting out a mouthful of blood into the mud.

But nobody listens to me.

“That’s not all!” Chloe emerged from the shadows . “He didn’t even patrol the east gate! To cover up his theft, he deliberately lured a horde of zombies to the outer perimeter of our defenses! He’s trying to kill us all!”

No evidence is needed at all.

Prolonged hunger and fear had long since eroded their reason.

The gratitude they once felt instantly twisted into a bestial hatred.

“Traitor!” Mrs. Gabble screamed. I had almost died last month trying to find her insulin, and now she was spitting a wad of phlegm right in my face.

A sharp stone struck my temple. My skin immediately split open, and warm blood gushed down my cheek, blurring my right eye.

I desperately looked up, trying to find even a friendly face in the crowd.

Old Jenkins, Timmy's mother—every single one of them, who owes me a life, is now lunging at me like mad dogs.

"Kill this beast!" Mechanic Dave roared as he charged forward and kicked me hard in the ribs .

"Useless trash! You freeloader!"

I instinctively curled up into a ball, utterly defenseless against the ferocious attack. A barrage of kicks, sharp stones, and heavy planks pounded against my already battered body.

My dignity was trampled into the mud mixed with blood by them.

Marcus and Chloe stood on the high steps of the command center.

His arms were tightly wrapped around her waist.

She nestled into Marcus's arms .

Everything I believed in, everything I fought to protect, was a complete and utter lie.