Chapter 91: Does He Really Need to Lose Everyone to Wake Up?
Wu Fan finished his cigarette, crushed it into the ashtray, and looked at Amy.
"You mean the trade team sent to Hershel's farm got kicked out?"
Amy nodded and placed the report on the table.
"It happened yesterday. The farmer said our people aren't welcome anymore. The trade was one-time only."
Wu Fan flipped through the report and stopped.
It detailed what happened at Hershel's farm—Jimmy's death, walkers surrounding the house, Glenn and Maggie killing them, and Hershel driving everyone away.
"That stubborn old man..."
Wu Fan closed the report.
"Does his whole family really have to die before he faces reality?"
Amy watched him instinctively reach for another cigarette and pressed the pack down.
"You need to stop smoking. The Group of Sages keeps talking about it. You smoke too much."
Wu Fan paused and pulled his hand back.
"I have to. The base decisions, Red Queen's reports, all those numbers and problems waiting for me every day—without cigarettes, my brain won't work."
Amy sighed.
"You should form a management team."
"I've considered it, but not yet."
Wu Fan walked to the window.
"The base still isn't stable. The wall closes in a week, the vaccine hasn't spread widely, Atlanta isn't cleared, and the Prison still needs attention. Once things settle down, I'll hand over the daily work and keep only military command and the Hive under me."
Amy said nothing more and left.
Wu Fan watched recruits training below before picking up the phone.
"Send Dale over."
Old Dale arrived carrying a bag of fresh green beans, having dropped his work immediately.
He was practically invisible in the base—planting vegetables, taking walks, and occasionally chatting with elderly residents.
After Wu Fan placed him in charge of elderly psychological care, his work still mostly involved talking to people.
"I have a job for you," Wu Fan said.
He explained Hershel's situation.
Dale sighed.
"I understand him. Some people can't accept the apocalypse, so they create lies to survive mentally. Those walkers in the barn are his family and neighbors, aren't they?"
"Yes. He's still waiting for a cure."
Dale shook his head.
"I'll try talking to him."
"Bring researchers. Show him the vaccine personally."
Dale nodded and left.
Wu Fan sat back down, reopened the report, then switched to the system panel.
A satellite map of Hershel's farm appeared on-screen, detailed enough to see roof tiles clearly.
The barn remained shut. The walker bodies around the house had already been cleared.
He closed the panel and contacted Rick through the radio.
Rick answered, breathing heavily from training.
"I know about Hershel," Wu Fan said.
Rick stayed silent briefly.
"I'll go talk to him again tomorrow."
It was obvious Rick had already failed once.
"No need. I already sent someone. Just focus on the Prison."
Rick ended the call.
Wu Fan leaned back, eyes closed, fingers tapping the armrest.
Did that old man really need to lose everything before waking up?
Morning mist still covered the ground when Merle walked out of the dormitory with a cigarette hanging from his mouth.
He headed toward the parking lot to take his humvee out for patrol.
The parking space was empty.
Merle froze. The cigarette dropped to the ground.
He turned and spotted Private Shane squatting beside another humvee, carefully cleaning its tires.
"Where's my car?"
The words came out through clenched teeth.
Private Shane nearly dropped the rag.
"It—it got taken yesterday afternoon. Hasn't come back yet."
"Who took it?"
"I don't know. Six people. Dressed well. Moved like an elite squad."
Merle rubbed his chin.
Six people? Elite squad?
Who the hell were they?
It definitely wasn't Shane. He'd literally been competing with him in the bathroom earlier.
Sandra? No chance. She was busy training recruits.
Rick was at the Prison. Glenn was at the farm. Daryl had ridden off on his motorcycle.
So who stole his humvee?
"Damn it."
Unable to figure it out, he climbed into another vehicle instead.
The convoy rolled out of the base.
Not long after reaching the highway, Merle spotted a black humvee approaching from the distance.
His eyes narrowed.
That was his damn car.
He slammed the brakes, jumped out, and blocked the road.
The humvee stopped.
Six people stepped out wearing black combat uniforms and carrying enough gear to make even Merle jealous.
Their leader was a bald Black man with a muscular build and cold gray eyes.
"Who are you?" Merle asked.
"S.T.A.R.S. Advance Assault Team. Umbrella Corporation special operations unit."
The bald man's voice was calm.
"I am Captain James Shade."
Merle blinked.
Umbrella had its own private military?
The BOSS's background kept getting crazier.
He crushed his cigarette beneath his boot and walked closer.
"Alright then. Let me see how strong you headquarters people are."
Rain stepped forward.
Merle grinned.
"What's this? Pretty lady giving Grandpa Merle a massage?"
Rain removed her headset and handed over her MP5, pistol, grenades, and gear to Cowboy nearby.
The others laughed, warning her not to hit him too hard.
Captain James Shade crossed his arms.
"Don't break him. The BOSS still needs him for missions."
Merle spat on the ground.
Being underestimated pissed him off.
He cracked his knuckles and prepared to teach her a lesson.
...
A humvee passed Merle's convoy later that day.
Private Shane poked the unconscious Merle—lying face-down with his butt in the air—using a tree branch.
....
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