Entering Apocalypse in Easy-Mode-Chapter 566: Hotel

They left the nest behind and stepped back into the ruined streets. The night air was still cold against their skin, heavy with the smell of dust and blood.

Both of them were still soaked in it, dried and fresh blood layered together.

Clyde glanced down at his arms, at the dark stains clinging to him, and felt a quiet disgust.

"We need shelter," he said. "And water to clean this."

Mina nodded immediately. She felt it too. The exhaustion that only came after survival, when adrenaline finally loosened its grip.

They moved through the city at a steady pace, avoiding open intersections. The streets were quieter now. Too quiet. Whatever monsters had lingered nearby were either dead, hiding, or waiting for something worse to begin.

They found the hotel a few blocks away. A tall structure with shattered windows on the lower floors and a collapsed entrance canopy.

Clyde tested the door, forcing it open with minimal noise. The lobby was dark, littered with abandoned luggage and overturned furniture, but it was intact.

"Clear," he said. "I think."

They chose rooms on an upper floor, high enough to avoid most threats but not so high that escape would be impossible.

Clyde checked each corridor before settling on two adjacent rooms.

When Mina turned the faucet, water poured out.

She let out a breath of relief. "It still works."

Clyde nodded. The same relief also flickered across his face before disappearing again.

"Okay. Let’s take a bath."

They washed separately in their own room. Blood spiraled down the drain in slow, rust colored streams.

Clyde stood under the water longer than necessary with his eyes closed, letting the heat beat against his shoulders.

It didn’t wash away the weight in his chest. It only made the silence louder.

When he finished, he dressed in clean clothes scavenged from an empty room. His spear had already collapsed back into its shortened form, a simple one-meter rod resting easily in his grip. The Demon sword stayed behind in the bathroom, wrapped and hidden, as far from him as he could reasonably manage.

Later, they searched the hotel kitchen together. The power was out but the freezer units still held cold, somehow. Must not be long since the power in this hotel ran out.

Mina pulled out packaged frozen food, vegetables sealed in plastic, and a few cuts of meat.

"I’ll cook," she said, almost shyly.

Clyde looked at her, surprised. Then he smiled, faint but genuine. "Thank you."

She nodded and turned away, focusing on the stove.

Clyde sat down at a chair near the counter. He rested his elbows on his knees, spear leaning against the wall beside him.

The room smelled faintly of dust and old oil, but soon the scent of food began to cut through it.

He stared at nothing. Faces, voices, and commands he had given surfaced in his mind. Promises he had believed he could keep also there.

He remembered standing in front of them, certain that his strength would be enough this time.

It hadn’t been. The loss pressed in again, slow and suffocating. His chest tightened. His breath became shallow. His hands curled unconsciously.

This was supposed to be different.

Mina moved quietly in the background, careful not to disturb him. The sound of cooking was steady, grounding.

Clyde stayed seated in silence, carrying the weight of the dead with him.

Mina finished cooking not long after. She worked with quiet focus, moving carefully through the limited supplies. In the end, she made a simple meal of pan-fried meat seasoned with whatever spices she could find, mixed with softened frozen vegetables.

It wasn’t elegant, but it was warm real food.

She placed two plates on the counter.

"It’s done," she said softly.

Clyde stood and took one. They sat across from each other at the small table. For a while, the only sounds were the scrape of utensils and the faint hum of the building settling around them. 𝘧𝘳𝘦ℯ𝓌𝘦𝒷𝘯𝑜𝑣𝘦𝓁.𝒸𝘰𝓂

The food tasted better than it had any right to. Heat spread through Clyde’s body, easing the edge of exhaustion, but it did nothing for the heaviness inside his chest.

They ate in silence. After a few minutes, Mina spoke without looking up. "You know... you shouldn’t blame yourself."

Clyde paused, his fork hovering for a moment before he set it down. He didn’t answer right away.

"You did everything you could," she continued. Her voice was steady, but there was also a certain heavy emotion beneath it. "If you weren’t there, none of us would have made it this far."

Clyde exhaled slowly. He nodded once and forced a small, bitter smile. "Thanks."

The words didn’t reach where the pain was. He knew that. But he also knew Mina meant them and that mattered enough for now.

She had lost people too. He wouldn’t add his weight to hers.

They finished the rest of the meal quietly.

As the night deepened outside, the city grew even more still.

Mina gathered the plates and cleaned up what she could. When she returned she hesitated near the doorway, fingers clasped together.

"Jack," she said. "Would it be okay if I slept in the same room as you tonight?"

She avoided his eyes, a faint flush coloring her face. "Just... in case."

Clyde looked at her for a moment, then nodded. "It’s fine. No problem."

Relief crossed her face. She smiled, small and shy, but genuine.

"Okay."

They moved back toward the room together. The darkness felt a little less heavy as the door closed behind them.

—

Outside the hotel, shadows gathered. Across the broken street, several figures stood beneath a flickering streetlight.

They wore ragged clothes layered over scavenged armor, some pieces clearly torn from monsters, others ripped from corpses. Their posture was wary but confident.

Each of them carried a weapon. Swords that glimmered with faint blue and red runes. Spears whose tips leaked pale light into the air. Bows strung with threads of mana that hummed softly even when untouched.

They were not normal weapons. These were gifts from the system.

A man at the front narrowed his eyes, staring up at the hotel. He was tall, his coat patched together from different fabrics, a curved sword resting against his shoulder.

"They’re here?" he asked.

"Yes," another man replied, peering through broken binoculars. "I saw them enter this building after killing that Lunar Beast."

A murmur rippled through the group.

The leader’s lips curled into a thin smile.

"Good," he said. "Then we’re not late."

He lifted his sword and gestured forward. "Let’s go in."

A dozen figures moved at once, slipping into the darkness toward the hotel entrance. Their footsteps were careful. With their numbers, they felt certain.

"They won’t refuse," the man said quietly as they reached the door.

—