My 100th Rebirth a day before the Apocalypse novel Chapter 476

"But don’t worry—you’ve still got a few hours to catch a quick nap before we head to Port City."

Sparrow shook his head, his tone resolute.

"No, Young Madam. It’s best for my team and me to leave immediately. We need to get back as soon as possible so Vulture’s team can stay on schedule with the wall’s construction—and we’ll be there to help guard the area in the meantime once we are back."

He paused, his gaze steady. "I’ve calculated the timing carefully. I’m confident we’ll make it back faster this time."

Kisha didn’t try to argue with Sparrow further; she simply nodded in agreement.

But Sparrow wasn’t finished yet.

He looked at her with a proud, mischievous smile and added, "Oh, and Young Madam, I actually got you a gift. I wanted you to check it out right away, but we were so busy last night."

His tone was both mysterious and playful, sparking Kisha’s curiosity. _{frёeweɓηovel.coɱ}

Soon, the group of eight emerged from the villa.

The five STAU members quickly called in their team to prepare for an early departure, while Sparrow and Vulture walked on either side of Kisha, ready to unveil the gift Sparrow had mentioned.

Before long, they were standing in the former Colton’s hidden base, where they are currently being imprisoned.

Sparrow led Kisha down into the underground dungeon, but this time, the atmosphere was quiet—no torture, only watchful silence.

As they passed, the guards bowed deeply to Kisha, respect and awe evident in their eyes, especially in the gaze of the young man with white hair whom she had saved before.

Kisha paused and looked at the young man.

"How are you feeling? Have you fully recovered? Don’t push yourself too hard," she said gently.

Seeing him reminded her of Keith—they were the same age, yet this young man had already faced death’s door and witnessed the darkest sides of human nature.

The thought softened her heart, filling her with a quiet compassion for everything he’d endured.

The young man was visibly surprised—and deeply elated—that Kisha remembered him.

He nodded eagerly, his eyes bright with gratitude.

He’d never imagined she would recall him, but the joy of being acknowledged was mixed with a hint of embarrassment.

She had seen him at his lowest, in one of his most shameful moments, which tempered his enthusiasm slightly.

"I’m happy that you still remember me, and I haven’t even thanked you properly for saving my life back then," he said, his voice filled with sincerity.

"I’m doing much better now, and I’m stronger than before. I only hope I can awaken an ability someday—to be of real help to you."

Kisha shook her head with a gentle, almost doting smile as she patted his shoulder.

"Don’t put too much pressure on yourself," she reminded him warmly.

"With or without an awakened ability, you have great potential. Just stay focused on your goals and don’t rush things."

The young man straightened, nodding earnestly, reassured by her words. Kisha gave him one last encouraging smile before she and the others continued down into the dungeon.

The stench in the dungeon was even worse than before—a suffocating mix of feces, blood, and urine, each smell overpowering the other.

Even Sparrow and Vulture, hardened by their time handling the decaying stench of zombies, struggled to keep their composure, nearly retching several times.

Kisha’s brow twitched in reaction, though she managed to hold steady. They pressed forward until Sparrow finally stopped in front of one of the cells.

Inside the cell were the seven men Sparrow had captured from Port City—Rakan and his people.

They looked far worse for wear, pitifully mistreated and exhausted. The night spent in the dungeon had taken its toll, and the overpowering stench had left them too nauseated to eat anything.

Kisha scanned the dungeon, her eyes lingering on the once-mighty Coltons.

It had been some time since she’d last been here. Her gaze met Alex’s—the Young Master of the Coltons.

Unlike the last time she’d seen him, he had visibly shrunk. His face was gaunt, dark circles beneath his eyes, and lashed wounds marred his skin.

His eyes seemed to bulge, hollow and vacant, as though they might pop out of their sockets at any moment.

He was nothing but skin and bones, and though the Coltons’ downfall had occurred only recently, he appeared to have aged decades.