Playboy Cultivator in the Apocalypse

333 Unexpected Friendships

As dawn broke, the Lainwright soldiers stirred, roused by a divine scent they had never before experienced. It permeated their barracks, invigorating each of them with electrifying energy.

"What is that aroma?" Denzel muttered, already dressed. Lainwright soldiers were accustomed to waking early, so he, Eric, and Chen descended to the ground floor of their barracks. To their surprise, they discovered a sea of soldiers and Immortals had beat them, walking toward the scent like the undead, funneling into the mess halls past the town square.

While the Immortals had become accustomed to fine cuisine and soul meat, the Lainwright soldiers were not. Their last soul meat meal had been prepared haphazardly in colossal vats with minimal seasoning, resulting in a surprisingly appetizing gruel to enjoy at a shipping yard.

Still, it wasn't a fairy tale.

"Che," Chen grumbled, crossing his arms when they reached the mess halls and found separate lines for Immortals and Lainwright soldiers, the latter unmoving despite being early. "We'll eat after them, huh? I bet we'll get the scraps too."

Both of Lainwright Military Base's mess halls accommodated 2,500 soldiers.

Their cafeteria-style design was practical, featuring long rows of tables and benches in an open layout with stain-resistant concrete floors and kitchens with industrial equipment capable of frying 50 pounds of french fries, cooking 400 eggs, or baking 25 loaves of bread simultaneously.

Despite their size, there were over ten thousand stationed at the base, so meals had to be served in two shifts.

"Bro, who cares?" Denzel retorted. "We're on our way to becoming Immortals and feasting on professionally cooked meals."

"Exactly. We didn't complain when we arrived at this base as recruits and were treated like worms," Eric added, rubbing his bald head. "Just think of it like that."

"Yes, when we first arrived—past tense," Chen hissed. "We came here when there was a clear hierarchy and a defined path to the top, and we climbed it.

Now, these newcomers arrive, take over the mess halls, and we're left wondering if we'll get to eat while they sneer at us. Excuse me if I'm irritated."

The soldiers grew quiet, aware of the resentment from being perceived as murderers by some Immortals. The silent animosity went unspoken because it was "against the law," but was palpable.

"Still, we're going to be humble," Eric sternly ordered. "Complaining will cause issues, and issues will worsen our situation. Don't forget that General Skye is an Immortal and the emperor's partner — she won't prioritize us over them."

Click.

Everyone gawked when they watched Immortals exiting the second set of double doors, food-laden trays in hand, and heading toward the hangers.

"What's going on?" Chen inquired, his brow furrowing as the Immortals flowed in and out like a well-oiled machine. "No way."

As soon as the last Immortal entered the building, the door to the Lainwright line swung open, allowing the soldiers to join the sprawling queue that snaked like an amusement park ride.

"Allergies don't exist, so take what you get and like it," Hayden, a brunette with curly, auburn hair in a ponytail, sassed. "You're not special enough to treat as inferior, so don't bitch like the 'talentless.' We already got whiners here; we don't need more."

Chen's face lit up with a grin, "At last, someone who speaks candidly. That's just what I needed."

Morale lifted as they progressed through the line and received their cafeteria trays. Each held a quarter pound of meat over rice, bread, a side of vegetables, and a can of soda, all wrapped in tinfoil. The soul meat was expertly seared, emitting an intoxicating fragrance that made them question whether they had tasted food.

"This is absurd," Moe remarked, following the lines toward a vast hangar that once sheltered commercial planes. It was vacant and furnished with seating for ten thousand.

While good-natured, many wished Immortal Skye separated them. Tension was in the air, as there was open seating, and the long tables made segregating impossible. Every Immortal had lost a family member and a fourth due to General Payton's orders. Therefore, they gritted their teeth when the soldiers showed up, found open locations, and sat beside them.

A feeling of foreboding crept up, whispering that a conflict was inevitable.

However, as the tension increased, something amazing happened.

"DENZEL!" a young child shouted. "Come sit with us!"

The Immortals swiveled their heads towards the unfamiliar names, spotting Larkin's little brother and mother waving at Denzel, who had just entered and was perspiring under the weight of the stares.

"I'm not sure if that's appropriate, Simon..." Denzel hesitated, feeling cold sweat trickling down his back.

A frizzy-haired brunette glanced at the Immortals at the table, which included Rein, Steve, their families, and several others. "Is it not acceptable for him to sit with us? This man and his group saved my son from cultivators..."

Her words sent a ripple of astonishment through the room, which grew as more people entered. Everyone halted, creating an uneasy atmosphere threatening to ignite conflict among the various parties.

"There's nothing wrong with them joining the table," a soft voice intervened, drawing everyone's attention. "In fact, I'd be grateful if they did—may I join as well?"

"Layla, don't speak for them..." Denzel began, his voice faltering as he realized she was standing up from a group of Immortals.

"What kinda dumb question is that, Layla?" Larkin laughed. "Of course, ya'll can join. Holding things against ya'll was some ooooooold shit, ya—ow!"

Larkin's mother smacked the back of his head. "Watch your language, especially at the dinner table!" she demanded.

"Mom, it's break—" he tried to retort, but she lifted her hand again. "Yes, mooooooom."

Following a moment of stunned silence, laughter rippled through the room, reigniting the flow of movement like an engine coming to life.

"Leo, aren't you sitting with us anymore?" Will, Brad's father, inquired. "We've shared meals together every day for the past month."

The blond man who had confronted Rein, Steve, and Larkin shuddered, feeling the same weight Denzel experienced as the latter sat down at the table with Layla, looking puzzled. "If that's okay?"

"Of course, we'd like you to meet Bradley, our son," Rena, Brad's mother, chimed in.

"Alright," Leo agreed, moving to join the table.

Only then did the Immortals recall that their families, to whom they were so attached, had been living with the soldiers for months! It was only natural that they would form connections.

The Lainwright soldiers weren't the only ones with unusual relationships, either.

To everyone's surprise, cultivators were part of the mix as well.

"Hey, Martha!" Manny, the boisterous meddler from the battle at the shipping yard, shouted. "Come join us!"

"No, please join us," Riley, the redheaded lieutenant captain, implored. "I've been meaning to express my gratitude and ask if there's anything we can do for you."

"You too, Calvin," Randy, her major during her time protecting the Immortals, added. "We owe you both a great deal."

Martha and the other soldiers were taken aback by the invitations.

A frenzy ensued as everyone shuffled around to make room for one another.

The Immortals, anxious about their families' opinions, were quick to welcome their friends to the tables and make concessions.

However, one group wasn't pleased amid the commotion—those who had lost their families entirely. They felt embittered by the constant requests to rearrange and locate vacant seats to accommodate others' families. They became dark horses and shutouts because they didn't have families—it was cruel.

In no time, an entire long table filled up with people who had lost their families, simmering with resentment. The group included the regular members and ex-special forces, adding to the tense atmosphere.

Nevertheless, it was impossible to accommodate everyone, so they filed in and awaited the ringing of a bell. Once it sounded, they temporarily forgot their lingering bitterness as they enjoyed the soul meat that was new to them all.

This meal imbued them with a vibrant energy that sparked lively conversations.

After everyone had finished eating, Kaze rose from his table, full of his partners' family members, and strode to the stage amid resounding applause.

"It's peculiar," he said with a smile, surveying the crowd filling the massive hangar. "The agenda is for people to share stories about each other, but that almost seems superfluous."

Waves of chuckles spread through the room as family members gazed at the soldiers with appreciation and children expressed their gratitude.

"Though that may sound somewhat political, I assure you it's not that simple,"

Kaze added with a smirk. "From what I've heard, my partner Kiera blew up a building with a few soldiers inside."

"Yeah, and it sucked!" Chen interjected, triggering a thunderclap of laughter.

"I'm sure it did," the emperor chuckled. "General Skye trained these soldiers, who in turn protected family members, while Martha, Calvin, and Crux safeguarded the soldiers. In essence, you're more interconnected than you realize."

Excitement rippled through the room as they acknowledged the depth of their connections.

"There is lingering animosity between Malta, Immortal Skye, and the cultivators," Kaze continued, glancing at the table without families. "Many have suffered irreplaceable losses and feel more pain than others. Some are struggling with their new status. For this reason, we're giving everyone today to get acquainted. Then, tomorrow..."

The atmosphere grew tense and hushed as everyone awaited their emperor's next words.

"We'll engage in combat with each other, releasing our frustrations," Kaze declared with a grin. "No one will perish during our competition, so feel free to release your frustrations."