SSS Class Awakening: Start With A God-Level Choice System
Chapter 62: Just Someone Who Still Remembers What It’s Like To Be Human (LOL)

Chapter 62: Just Someone Who Still Remembers What It’s Like To Be Human (LOL)

Both Rian and Dante agreed with Ainsworth’s statement.

Seeing that they didn’t disagree, Ainsworth went back to the important matter at hand and mentioned, "Before we end our meeting, I’ll inform you two. Don’t forget that we’ll spend three days here earning the trust of the soldiers and leader of the base so don’t be idle."

"You two can command Thomas and the survivor group we went with as they already trust us with their lives so you can make use of them."

"As for myself, I plan to release some of the supplies I hoarded and offer them to them in exchange for getting their goodwill. With my charm and manipulation, it won’t be long before they would fall for my tricks. When the time is right, we’ll proceed with our plan of letting the Zombie Kingdom send a zombie tide here."

After agreeing with Ainsworth’s plan, Dante and Rian left after Ainsworth removed the sound barrier.

Even when they were conversing, Ainsworth had secretly released his senses to detect whether someone was eavesdropping and to his surprise, there really were no one who eavesdropped on them.

From the superpowers he had obtained from his believers and some random evolvers he encountered, there were ones that included enhanced senses or even a 360-degree sensory domain.

Knowing that no one was eavesdropping on them, Ainsworth pondered, ’It seems my charm and speech swayed them more than I expected them to be. Despite them being from the military who were infamous for covert operations and surveillance bugs, they didn’t even think of that since they already had a very good impression of me.’

’Well, this is going better than my expectations. Three days from now, the plan can proceed.’

With that thought in mind, Ainsworth went out of his assigned quarters and wandered around.

When he arrived at the living quarters of most of the survivors who weren’t part of his group, he noticed how inferior their living quarters were. It was mostly a tent set up in the middle of the land, unlike his living quarters that was a room in a building.

Ainsworth stood in front of the ragged tents that passed for living quarters here. Dirty cloth tarps, scrap metal, and crates stacked into crude shelters—this was what the survivors were reduced to. He sighed, not out of pity, but calculation.

He took a few steps forward, just enough to be noticed. Some kids peeked out from behind crates. A couple of survivors looked up, eyes dull with exhaustion. Ainsworth smiled softly—gentle, approachable. Then, he activated Freedom of Speech (SSS).

"Everyone," he said, voice ringing out effortlessly through the area, "come closer. I’m not here as a soldier or some leader... just someone who still remembers what it’s like to be human."

His words didn’t just echo—they resonated. Soldiers slowed in their patrols, confused but curious. The survivors, cautious at first, began inching closer. Children tugged at their mothers’ sleeves. Men who hadn’t spoken in days stood upright, blinking.

"I’ve walked through ruined cities. I’ve bled beside strangers. And I’ve seen... what this world does to good people. So today—just today—I want to give. No politics. No ranks. No orders. Just... help."

He waved his hand slowly, deliberately.

From thin air — no, from the depths of his System Inventory — crates of pristine supplies began materializing in a dazzling display. Packaged meals, canned goods, clean water, medicine, warm blankets, even boxes of hygiene products... the kind that had become rare luxuries in this world.

There was silence at first. Then gasps.

A woman broke down crying when she saw infant formula. A boy clutched a bag of rice like it was gold. Soldiers looked at each other, unsure how to react until one of them dropped to a knee and began helping distribute the goods.

"No one should starve," Ainsworth said, tone calm but firm. "No kid should go to sleep crying because they’re hungry. You’ve all suffered enough."

His Charm ability worked behind the scenes. It didn’t force them to obey—it made them want to listen. Every word felt like it mattered. Like he meant it.

"They call us evolvers," he said. "But what good is power if we don’t use it for others? If I can’t protect people like you... then I might as well be one of the monsters."

His eyes swept the crowd. Some survivors were crying. Others knelt. A few whispered prayers as if he were an angel descended from the heavens.

A scarred veteran stepped forward, falling to one knee with clenched fists.

"I don’t know who you are... but if you ask me to fight, I’ll fight. If you ask me to die, I’ll die. For someone like you... I’ll gladly do it."

Cheers broke out. People clapped. Some saluted. Others just stood there, stunned, like they were seeing a god.

"Arthur," he said simply. "That’s my name. But remember it not because I gave you food—remember it because I remembered you."

A little girl ran up and handed him a handmade crown of flowers. "Please wear it," she whispered. "So we won’t forget what you did."

Ainsworth accepted it and placed it gently upon his head, the symbol of a king... crowned by the people, not by force.

It was a symbol—one he didn’t need but would use all the same.

And just like that, a seed of loyalty was planted.

It didn’t matter that his motives were calculated. It didn’t matter that this generosity was all part of a plan.

What mattered... was that it worked.

With a single act of benevolence, Ainsworth had turned desperate survivors into fanatics — men and women who would kill, die, and betray in his name if he so much as whispered it.

He turned, walking away slowly as the survivors bowed, some falling to their knees, others reaching out just to touch the hem of his clothes.

Behind his calm smile, he thought coldly:

’Three days. When the zombie tide strikes, these people will shield me with their lives without a second thought.’

’This base is already close to being mine.’