Watching Tracy stand at the doorway with zero regard for decorum, Brian's lips twitched. Honestly, he still couldn't reconcile the plump, relaxed woman before him with the sharp, disciplined soldier she'd been before entering the quarantine zone.
Rubbing the shoulder she'd just playfully punched, he gestured to the backpack slung over his shoulder. "Brought you some stuff. Let's go inside and talk."
"Oh, okay."
Only after her "friendly" greeting did Tracy notice the bulging bags in his hands. She quickly glanced left and right, then stepped aside, whispering urgently, "Hurry in! Don't just stand there—you're drawing attention! Carrying all that around is practically asking for trouble!"
Brian didn't take offense. He simply walked past her into the room.
But the moment he stepped inside, his eyes locked onto a horrifying sight in the corner: a crude cross made of rebar stood upright, and bound to it—shirtless, emaciated, and barely conscious—was a man. His limbs were tightly lashed, his body slumped forward, head hanging low, dark circles ringing his closed eyes.
If not for the faint rise and fall of his chest, Brian would've sworn he was looking at a corpse.
Slowly setting his bags down, Brian turned to Tracy with wide eyes. "Sis… what the hell is this?"
Tracy shut the door behind him, saw his shocked expression, and waved a dismissive hand. "Don't worry about him. Just some thief who broke in a few days ago. Tried to rob me—and worse. So I tied him up as punishment."
With that, she strolled past Brian and flopped onto a recliner, rocking lazily.
"Rob… and worse?"
Brian's expression turned skeptical. His eyes flickered over Tracy's curvier frame. He could understand someone trying to steal—after all, he and others regularly brought her food, and observant eyes would've noticed.
But "worse"? Back when she'd been lean and strikingly pretty, maybe. Now? Her features had softened into plainness, though… in these desperate times, perhaps standards had dropped.
"You little brat—what are you staring at?!" Tracy snapped, clearly catching his judgmental glance. She shot up from the recliner and hurled a throw pillow at him.
"Whoa, whoa! Easy, sis! Calm down!" Brian caught the pillow midair and raised his hands in surrender. "My bad! My bad!" He quickly sat down on a nearby crate. "But seriously—what did you do to this poor guy? He looks half-dead."
Tracy settled back into her chair and picked up a loaf of bread from the table, taking a large bite. "Oh, he snuck in a few nights ago, picked my lock, and woke me up. So I gave him a little lesson: three days and nights without sleep. That'll teach him."
Now it made sense—the deep black rings, the hollow exhaustion. Three days without sleep… Brian winced inwardly. That was brutal.
Understanding the situation, he stood, walked over to the captive, and knocked him out with a firm tap to the temple—just to spare him further torment. Then he ignored the man entirely, unzipped his backpack, and began unloading canned food onto the table.
"I checked the calendar—you were probably running low. Brought you some supplies. But hide them well. If anyone finds out, you're in serious trouble."
"Ugh, you've gotten so naggy as you've grown up," Tracy grumbled—but her eyes sparkled as she saw the table filling with food. She sprang up, lifted the corner of her bed to reveal a hidden storage compartment underneath, and began stuffing the cans inside one by one.
Once everything was stashed, she patted Brian's shoulder approvingly. "Not bad, kid. Guess all that time I spent looking out for you wasn't wasted."
"You 'looked out' for me? Please," Brian muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes. He genuinely couldn't fathom how she'd changed so much—not just her figure, but her entire personality.
After Tracy finished rearranging the bed, Brian said, "I'm planning to gather everyone soon—probably in the next few days. If you're free, come join us."
"Sure thing!" Tracy's face lit up. "I'm bored stiff here. I'm always free—just send word."
"Good."
Brian nodded, checked the time—it was getting late—and began repacking his bags. He placed Sarah's requested items at the bottom, then carefully covered them with children's clothes.
Tracy, noticing the tiny garments, frowned. "Why so many kids' clothes?"
"All set," Brian replied as he zipped the bag. "I brought back a child from outside the quarantine zone—Chinese. Doesn't speak the language and isn't old enough for school yet, so I'm taking care of him for now."
"What?!" Tracy's eyes widened. "Since when did you become such a softie? Adopting kids now?"
She knew Brian better than most. Sure, he was friendly and easygoing on the surface—but beneath that, he was pragmatic, even a bit cold. Not evil, certainly, but never the "rescue-stray-children" type. This was… unexpected.
"What's wrong with being kind?" Brian shot back, though he softened his tone. "Besides… this kid's a little 'special.'"
"Ah, there it is," Tracy said with a knowing smirk. "Knew it. You never do anything without a reason. So what's so 'special' about him?"
"Not sure yet. Still observing. Need more time to confirm."
Slipping the backpack on and picking up the other bag, Brian headed for the door. "It's late. I should head back."
Tracy's expression flickered with reluctant affection, but she didn't try to stop him. "Alright. Be careful out there."
"Will do."
Outside, Brian walked toward the checkpoint, planning to return directly to his quarters.
At the gate, his luggage drew the guards' attention, as usual. He presented his ID and unzipped the bag for inspection.
The soldier—seeing another soldier and only children's clothing inside—gave it a cursory glance and waved him through.
Back in his dormitory building, Brian trudged down the hallway, exhaustion weighing on him. He pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers, then unlocked his door.
"Brian!"
The moment he opened it, a voice rang out—and a figure barreled straight into him.
Brian quickly dropped his bags and caught the young man in a brief hug, then stepped back to get a proper look.
Sixteen or seventeen years old, with a neat buzz cut, wearing a crisp white shirt that showed off a decently built frame. At 170 cm tall and undeniably handsome, he was probably the heartthrob of every girl at school.
Brian ruffled the boy's hair affectionately. "You're almost an adult—why are you still charging around like a hyper kid?"
"Aww, come on!" Alan grinned, scratching the back of his head. Though Brian was only two years older, he'd been Alan's guardian for years—and Alan saw him as an older brother. "I haven't seen you in nearly a month! And school's so boring now—I'm the only one left!"
"So you've become the school bully, huh?" Brian teased, recalling something Sarah had mentioned.
"…"
Caught off guard, Alan's face flushed red. He cleared his throat awkwardly and waved a hand as if it were nothing. "Well… when you're alone all the time, you gotta gather a few underlings for fun, right?"
"You're impossible," Brian laughed, tapping Alan's forehead. He picked up his bags and stepped inside.
At that moment, Sarah emerged from the storage room, carrying fresh meat and mushrooms. Seeing Brian at the door, her face lit up with a warm smile. She set the groceries on the table, then walked over to him.
Like a devoted wife, she gently smoothed his slightly disheveled shirt and said softly, with unmistakable affection:
"You're back!"