My 100th Rebirth a day before the Apocalypse novel Chapter 810

Chapter 810: Chapter 810 Making Them Work

Sensing their hesitation, Kisha continued calmly, ready to earn their trust.

"If I really wanted to harm you, I wouldn’t need to lure you into a trap," Kisha said calmly. "You’ve seen what I can do. Even if you outnumber me, I can still take you on head-to-head. There’s no need for tricks or schemes. Besides"—her tone shifted slightly—"we’re not offering charity. It’s a trade, not a handout."

The leader frowned, uncertainty still lingering in his eyes. "Then... what exactly could we offer in return? As you can see, we don’t have any supplies or resources on us."

"Of course," Kisha said, glancing at their meager belongings. "I can see you’ve got nothing on you except a few rifles, a couple of spare magazines, and some snacks. Hardly anything worth trading."

She paused, her eyes narrowing as a cold smile curved her lips—one that made everyone instinctively tense.

"But maybe there’s something else you can offer..." she mused aloud, pretending to think, drawing out the suspense.

Then her tone sharpened. "I’ll show you later. Just know this—we don’t hand out supplies for free. And if I’m being honest, you’ll soon understand why."

She took a step closer, her voice dropping into something more mocking.

"You said you wanted to fight the other group to the death, right? Sounds to me like you’ve already made peace with dying. So why not come with me instead? See what I have to offer. That way, if you end up dead, at least you’ll die doing something a little more meaningful than chasing revenge. Doesn’t that sound better?"

Her sarcastic smile widened, and the leader of the group clenched his fists, clearly resisting the urge to hit her. If she hadn’t been a woman, he might’ve already swung at her. But Kisha knew exactly what she was doing—provoking them on purpose. Pushing just hard enough to get them to follow her, driven by pride and impulse.

That was the only way she’d get them back to her base willingly.

"Alright," the leader growled through gritted teeth, "but if I find out you’re lying to me—even if it means my death—I’ll make sure I take you down with me."

Kisha had already turned around, distracted for a moment by the heavy thuds echoing from downstairs. But at his threat, she paused and glanced back over her shoulder, a slow, mocking grin spreading across her face.

"If you get the chance," she replied coolly.

That single line struck deeper than any insult. It was condescending, dismissive—an outright challenge. The leader’s jaw clenched, fury flaring in his eyes as Kisha casually trampled over his pride, treating him like a reckless fool rather than a real threat.

And that was exactly what she wanted.

"Alright then, release us," the leader said grimly. "If we’re overrun by the zombie horde, we might not even live long enough to make that trade."

Kisha gave a small nod of agreement, then casually drew her dagger. With a smooth motion, she cut through the ropes binding them. One by one, they stood up, rubbing their sore wrists. Her knots had been tight—tight enough to leave red marks on their skin—but after a bit of massaging, they began rearming themselves with quiet efficiency.