My Job? Weaving Armour For Undead In Apocalypse
Chapter 45: Do You Think We’ll Survive

Chapter 45: Do You Think We’ll Survive

Felicity tilted her head over her shoulder, her vision hazy, yet her eyes widened slightly at the sight of the figure approaching through the crimson-stained street.

Merek.

And behind him, Yuki, her blade bare and ready.

Felicity blinked, uncertain what she felt at first. Relief? That someone had come? That she wouldn’t bleed out alone in a street full of rotting corpses?

Or was it shock?

That the one who came... was Merek.

He didn’t call out. He just dropped to one knee beside her, crouching to her level. His breath was steady, but his eyes roamed quickly over her broken form, not with lust, not with pity, but with the sharp focus of someone assessing a battlefield wound.

"Were you bitten?" His voice was low, almost clinical. But beneath it was something else. Concern. Concern he didn’t know how to voice.

Felicity’s throat felt raw. She swallowed and answered between breaths. "No... I wasn’t bit."

Her voice was faint but firm.

Yuki remained silent, standing at her back, sword gleaming faintly under the sunlight. The lack of a sheath told she never expected to rest. Her eyes swept the road for more enemies, the orbs behind her slits flaring every now and then.

Merek exhaled quietly.

He didn’t show it, but he had been worried. More than he liked to admit.

From the sheer amount of blood soaking Felicity’s clothes, and the way her limbs trembled, her skin growing pale beneath the sweat, Merek could already see the truth. Her pupils were unfocused, and her breathing came in short, ragged bursts.

She was dying.

Without a word, he reached forward and gently pulled off the white mask that had concealed her face, the "Bridal Mask" with its smirking mustache.

It fell away with a whisper of cloth, revealing an angelic face slick with sweat. Her lips were slightly parted, her chest rising and falling with visible effort.

Merek’s brow furrowed.

She was in real danger.

Deep cuts criss crossed her arms, one particularly nasty gash across her thigh, and a long tear down her side that had bled through three layers of fabric. Her blood had already started to pool. He couldn’t tell how many arteries had been nicked, but it was more than one.

And still, she hadn’t cried out. She hadn’t even slumped fully. She sat there with both swords still in her hands.

But there wasn’t much time.

He reached into his coat and pulled out a small vial, the Healing Balm. A shimmering gel swirled within it, faintly glowing.

Merek’s jaw tightened.

He hadn’t even used it on himself after the battle against the silverback gorilla. He’d held onto it, waiting for something more dire. Waiting for a moment where letting go of it meant surviving.

That moment...for Felicity, might be now.

But he hesitated. His hand hovered over her wounds, balm uncorked, the smell of mint and blood mixing in the air.

He glanced down at her again. Her head tilted back against the street pole. Her breathing slowed. Her grip on the blades loosened just a little.

Felicity opened one eye, meeting his.

"Hesitating?" she asked, a faint smirk trying to form at the corner of her lips. "Afraid I won’t repay the debt?"

Merek chuckled dryly under his breath. "No," he said. "I just wanted to use it for myself. There might come a time I’ll need a life saving treasure and I just wasted my chances on you."

"I’ll surely pay you back."

Merek ignored the conviction in her voice and gently helped her to her feet. This time, he made a conscious effort not to overstep his boundaries.

He put her spoils into her bag, offered his arm, and she leaned on him without a word as they made their slow way into an intact building nearby. Inside, he guided her to a worn couch and helped her ease into it with care.

Without saying much, he handed her the balm, the faint, herbal scent of it catching in the air, then turned away and took a seat at the nearby dining table, his back to her. He didn’t want her to feel pressured. Still, he remained close enough to assist her at a moment’s notice if needed.

Minutes passed in quiet tension. Then her voice came, slightly stronger now, laced with composure.

"You can look now."

He turned.

Felicity was reclined on the couch, the balm’s dull sheen marking the treated wounds along her skin. She had done it herself. Merek felt a quiet awe settle over him. It must’ve taken no small measure of grit to apply the balm to those deep, angry gashes, to force her hands steady against the pain.

’I thought she’d ask for my help,’ he mused, dragging a dining chair across the floor and sitting beside her. The words remained unspoken, but the admiration in his eyes did not.

She didn’t bother putting her blood-soaked jacket back on. The gray t-shirt underneath, though torn in places, was still wearable at least enough to avoid feeling too exposed. Her skin, smeared with dried blood and streaks of balm, carried the bruises of the near death battle. But for now, she rested.

The silence between them stretched, thick and weighty, pressing on the room like a thousand invisible dumbbells. Then her voice broke through it, soft but steady.

"How’s the group?"

Merek looked up from his own thoughts. "We ran into two Stage-1 silverback gorillas. Massive things. Lost the vehicles to some strange roots that sprang from the ground and wrecked them. Didn’t even chase us after it’s like their only goal was to trap us. Keep us from moving."

Felicity’s brows knit together. She bit her lower lip, worry flashing across her features. "The gorillas... did they kill anyone?"

He shook his head. "No. We got lucky."

She turned her head sharply and looked straight at him. Her eyes, those gem-like, azure eyes, caught his with sudden, raw intensity. The unexpected contact made his eyes narrowed for half a second, but what she said next left a deeper mark.

"Do you think we’ll survive?"

The question wasn’t casual. It came from somewhere deeper, a crack in the armor she so carefully wore. Her voice was quiet, but the uncertainty laced within it was louder than any scream. "You’ve seen the numbers out there. The zombies... that horde could devour us in seconds. And now there are beasts, monsters we’ve never known. They’re everywhere."

He didn’t answer right away. He couldn’t.

For the first time, he saw it clearly: the realization that their world, the one they once knew, was gone and in its place stood something brutal, indifferent, and overwhelmingly vast. She was strong, yes. Fierce. But now she was fragile in a way he’d never seen before.

Vulnerable.

Right now, he held something powerful, not just his strength, but his voice. He had the power to either shatter what little hope Felicity clung to... or give her a reason to keep going.

’Which choice would serve me best?’

The thought slipped in like a whisper. Cold and Calculated.

But even as it did, he still didn’t looked away from her eyes.

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