My 100th Rebirth a day before the Apocalypse novel Chapter 668

After ensuring that everyone was unharmed, Sparrow gazed silently ahead at the road, fully aware that it wouldn't be long before their brothers arrived from the hidden base to surround them.

Themmotion near the base's perimeter had undoubtedly set off alarms, and by now, theirmrades were likely gearing up and rushing to the scene. Their methods were as ruthless and decisive as their master, Duke.

Understanding this, Sparrow and the rest of the Winters refrained from making any sudden movements. Instead, they remained exactly where they were, knowing that any misstepuld spell trouble for all of them.

"Is everyone alright?!" Sparrow asked, pulling his gaze back from the road ahead.

"Captain, everyone's fine—just minor scratches, no major injuries," one of the Winters' men reported, his tone careful as hentinued scanning their perimeter. He moved from window to window, ensuring their brothers had yet to arrive. They needed to stay alert—if those idiots opened fire withoutnfirming their targets, theyuld end up taking out their own.

Usually, the Winters' men wouldn't make such a mistake, but without any transmission from Duke's private satellite phone or their brothersnfirming their return, they had to assume anyone approaching was an enemy. Besides, no one would have expected their own team to fall into a trap they had set themselves.

After all, they had grown up together, endured the same rigorous training, and followed the same teachings. The idea that Sparrow would drive straight through the landmine zone without priorntact or even a heads-up through their usual channels was unthinkable.

But what choice did Sparrow and his group have? They had no way to send a signal—no walkie-talkies, no satellite phones. Those were left behind at the base, deemed too important to risk losing outside, where theyuld fall into the enemy's hands and be used to locate their hidden base in City A.

Due to their cautious nature and the unexpected need to head to City A, Sparrow and the rest had left their satellite phones behind in the villa, never anticipating they would require them so urgently.

Without a means ofmmunication, not even a gun or a flare to signal their brothers at the hidden base, they were left with no clear way to attract their attention. Sparrow racked his brain for any possible method to alert them as quickly as possible, knowing that every sndunted.

So, no one blamed Sparrow for blowing up their vehicle.

"Alright, since everyone is fine, tend to the wounded and stay inside. No one steps out, or you'll be blasted to pieces," Sparrow warned, his tone deliberately harsh. He figured it was better to scare the children now than risk their curiosity leading them outside, especially in such a dangerous situation.

After making sure they understood, Sparrow nonchalantly made his way to the large hole in the bus left by the explosion. The vehicle now leaned precariously against a tree at the side of the road.

After staring at the gaping opening for a brief moment, he reached up, gripping the charred end of the ceiling at the edge of the open hole. Then, with effortless strength, he pulled himself up, his muscles flexing as he lifted his body before smoothly flipping himself onto the roof.

Once on the roof, Sparrow adjusted his position and sat cross-legged, finding amfortable spot. He closed his eyes and began meditating—at least this way, heuld be productive while waiting for his brothers to arrive.

More importantly, his elevated position would make it easier for his brothers to rgnize him, ensuring that no one mistakenly opened fire without verifying their targets. The alternative—well, he didn't even want to think about that.

The Winters' men, after tending to the injured and calming the frightened children, took up defensive positions inside the bus. They remained alert, scanning the surroundings for any signs of their approachingmrades, ready to call out as soon as they spotted them.

Two hours passed. The men from Group 6 stood at a distance from each other in different positions, their mouths twitching in frustration. They had expected their brothers to arrive swiftly—within 20 to 30 minutes at most—but now, two hours had dragged on with no sign of them.

"What's taking them so long? Are they gearing up for war and bringing a tank with them before heading here?!" one of the Winters' men muttered, glancing out the window with a mix of impatience and disbelief.

"Not sure. Maybe they relocated? Otherwise, I can't explain the delay in their crisis response," another man replied from the other side.

Meanwhile, Sparrow remained silent, deep in meditation. He was attempting to dispel the strange disorientation that had been plaguing them for some time now—likely caused by the status abnormality—and, at the same time, expand his spiritual energy pool while reinforcing his body's foundation for his next level-up.

Beads of sweat formed on his forehead as hencentrated, but something felt off. His spiritual energy wasn't flowing smoothly through hisre. Instead, it felt blocked and disrupted, turning what was once a clear, straight path into a tangled mess. Every attempt to guide his energy only made it more exhausting, as if he were trying to untangle a knot that refused to loosen. No matter how much he tried, heuldn't straighten it out.

'This must be the reason we're feeling so disoriented. It's not just physical exhaustion that can be fixed with rest. That scent specifically targeted our minds, turning our dantians into a tangled mess. It was likely designed to ensure that anyone facing that mutated insect wouldn't be able to fight properly. Even superhumans would struggle to manage aunterattack under its influence.'

'Fortunately, my team and I have strong mental fortitude, and since I've already reached Level 2, the effect on me has lessened slightly.'

Sparrow focused, steadying his breathing as he tried to realign the disrupted flow of his spiritual energy, guiding it back toward hisre.

"Ugh! It's not working!" Sparrow's eyes snapped open, his breath uneven as sweat clung to his back and forehead. He had been at this for too long with no success. Frustration gnawed at him—he didn't even know what else to try to shake off this cursed status abnormality.