Apocalypse Villainess? Nah, I'm Nice

Claire Chapman had never seen Maisie Joyce in such a wretched state.

In his memory, even when she first arrived at Bloodfall Base, she had been absurdly thin with a vacant look in her eyes. But at least she hadn’t had this deathly stillness about her.

But now, she sat with her knees drawn up in the corner of a pitch-black space. Her hands and feet were bound tightly by heavy iron chains, the ends of which were nailed to the wall.

She could lift her bound hands just enough to reach the water on a nearby shelf, but she couldn’t stretch any farther.

The chain connecting her hands and feet was no more than a foot long.

This made it impossible for her to stand up.

She could only remain in this position, sitting there as if waiting for the end…

A sudden, immense fury struck Claire Chapman. He glared at the woman before him, unable to believe that she would so easily surrender to her fate without putting up more of a fight!

‘She shouldn’t be this kind of person!’

“If you really want to die, you might as well just slit your own throat! Why bother with this half-dead act? Don’t you find it exhausting?!” The string of vicious taunts left Claire Chapman’s mouth before he could even think.

Maisie Joyce’s head, buried between her knees, trembled slightly, but she stubbornly refused to lift it.

“Stop playing dead! You think I don’t know you can hear me? If you have the guts to do something, have the guts to face the consequences! You dare to let yourself get into this state, but you don’t dare to look at me?” Claire Chapman took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down so he wouldn’t just charge over and drag the woman to her feet. “Or has it been so long that you can’t recognize my voice or who I am anymore?”

The air was silent for a moment. The only sounds in the iron cell were their two breaths, a stark contrast—one heavy and fast, the other light and slow.

After a long while, Maisie Joyce seemed to finally get her emotions under control. She lifted her face and said faintly, “It’s… none of your business. Go away…”

Claire Chapman stared at her, only then realizing that he had truly, desperately wanted to see this face again.

But he would never like to see it so expressionless. And he truly hated seeing those eyes, which should have been glinting with a sharp light, now staring off into the distance as if she were blind!

He let out a breath, strode over in a few steps, and with a flick of his wrist, produced a dagger as thin as a cicada’s wing.

After striking it more than ten times, he finally severed one end of the chain.

Just as he was about to break the other end, Maisie Joyce suddenly shrieked, “What are you doing? I don’t want to see you! Get out! Get out—”

Claire Chapman couldn’t even be bothered to reply. It didn’t take him long to sever the other chain.

He sheathed his dagger and bent down, preparing to scoop Maisie Joyce up in his arms.

His movements were fast and resolute, carrying an air that tolerated no refusal and was unaffected by anyone or anything. But he was careful to avoid Maisie Joyce’s bandaged, injured shoulder, positioning himself on her other side.

But the moment he touched her, he realized her body temperature was extremely high. She was burning with fever, almost to the point of being scalding to the touch.

Annoyed, Claire Chapman paused. He hesitated for a moment before taking a medicine pill from a pocket close to his body. Ignoring Maisie Joyce’s weak struggles, he forced it into her mouth, then immediately lifted her and walked out.

When Keith Preston saw him emerge carrying Maisie Joyce, he froze on the spot as if struck by lightning.

After a moment, he shakily raised a finger, pointing at Maisie Joyce’s face. “Did, did you see her face…?” He could no longer suppress the panic in his heart. His expression was more horrified than if he were looking at an AIDS patient or a leper.

Claire Chapman sneered, “Do I look blind to you? What about her face? So the color changed a bit. What, you got a problem with it, or do you want to change, too?”

With that, he strode out of the dungeon.

Keith Preston, left behind, his face a shifting mess of pale and green, reached out to grab Claire Chapman. He wanted to shout that Maisie Joyce had been bitten by Leo Joyce! That half her shoulder was practically rotting away, and no medicine could stop it from worsening! That the color of her face was now exactly the same as Leo Joyce’s after he had mutated! But in the end, his hand stopped, suspended uselessly in mid-air. His mouth opened and closed, but not a single word came out…

He didn’t know how much time had passed. When he faintly heard the sound of a car starting, he let his arm drop dejectedly and lowered his head.

‘Forget it.’

‘He’s taking her away anyway.’

‘At least this way, the people in the city won’t have to suffer anymore.’

‘When she was unconscious, she kept calling Claire Chapman’s name over and over.’

‘Her taste… is actually pretty good.’

‘In the end, no matter which of them dies at the other’s hand, it would be a fitting end!’

So Keith Preston thought.

He thought himself quite tragic, but he had no idea that if Claire Chapman knew what he was thinking, he’d probably beat him half to death first!

He wasn’t taking Maisie Joyce away to kill her, and he certainly wasn’t taking her away to be killed by her.

He wanted to save her!

The medicine pill he had given her was from Sean Raines. It was supposedly for saving one’s life; as long as there was still a breath left in you, it was said to keep you alive for at least five days. Claire Chapman had never had the chance to test it, but he hoped Sean Raines was telling the truth.

Right now, Maisie Joyce hadn’t fully mutated. No, even if she did mutate, at least she would still be alive.

The real issue was the wound on her shoulder.

That was the fatal part!

When he tore off her clothes and the gauze, revealing the horrifying wound that covered half her back, he sprinkled on the special wound medicine made by Andy. But when he saw that it only seemed to control the damage without any signs of healing, all his anger instantly dissipated, leaving nothing but heartache…

He felt that he had been wrong.

She hadn’t resigned herself to her fate. She hadn’t given up.

At a stage like this, suicide would have been the coward’s way out.

But she was holding on.

‘She must be trying to fight it with her own strength, even if it’s down to the very last moment!’

‘That’s why she locked herself up.’

‘For her own sake, and for the sake of the others in the city.’

It was only when Claire Chapman suddenly noticed the coppery taste of blood in his mouth that he realized he had, at some point, bitten through his lower lip, leaving a deep row of teeth marks.

After strapping Maisie Joyce into the passenger seat with cloth strips, he drove north at high speed.

It took him only a day to reach a peripheral base of Concordia.

He didn’t plan to go any further. He contacted the local Bloodfall Superpower Users stationed there, telling them to report back and to send an urgent request for help to Sean Raines and Levi Young.

He was not calm as he did this.

As he stroked her face, a bitter smile touched his lips.

‘You see, this is who I really am. I always put Bloodfall first!’

‘It’s not that I don’t know that taking you back directly would get you treated faster, that your chances of being cured would be higher. But I can’t, and I won’t, do that!’

‘Because you might not be curable. You might fully mutate.’

‘I can’t bring you to Bloodfall’s main headquarters.’

‘Not even into the heartland.’

‘I don’t know how powerful you’d be after mutating, and I refuse to allow for the possibility of you bringing a crisis to Bloodfall…’

‘Even if I know you might die because of it!’