Chapter 1241 Flexible
And the sexual marathon continued. Another month slipped by in a haze of indulgence, routine, and barely restrained chaos.
Ross honestly wouldn’t have minded if things stayed this way forever.
The base alone had more than three hundred thousand people—far more than his Aegis base and even his supermarket base in Parkland City combined.
Compared to those places, this military installation was practically a small city, bustling with life, tension, stress, and unspoken desires. For someone like him, it was a goldmine of opportunities.
However, reality was never that simple.
His identity as the great teleporter came with responsibilities.
Important missions arrived constantly, urgent rescues were needed, and crises across the world demanded immediate intervention.
It wasn’t even Ross himself who was overwhelmed—it was one of his clones, tirelessly jumping from place to place, completing missions, stabilizing disasters, and maintaining the illusion that Ross was only ever in one location at a time.
That single limitation alone prevented him from indulging as freely as he wanted on the base.
Otherwise, how could he explain being in two places at once?
One moment in the command center, the next in a private room, and then suddenly halfway across the world?
Even the most forgiving minds would find that impossible to rationalize.
Ross sighed inwardly more than once.
Being powerful had its perks, but it also came with annoyances that no amount of strength could erase.
Still, he couldn’t deny that life was good. Busy, complicated, dangerous—but undeniably good.
And for now, that was more than enough.
Ross thought he was in for another dull, uneventful month—but then temptation practically walked straight into his path.
"Ross, can I talk to you for a minute?" a black-haired woman called out just as he was preparing to head out on a mission.
He paused and turned, his eyes immediately sweeping over her figure.
The base uniform did little to hide her curves, and desire stirred within him almost instantly.
"Sure," Ross replied with a faint smile. "Come with me."
He led her into one of the few empty rooms left on the overcrowded base, closing the door behind them. The noise from outside faded, leaving only the two of them in quiet tension.
Ross nodded, leaning casually against the wall. "Go ahead."
"My name is Anita," she said, her voice steady but carrying an undercurrent of worry. "And I need your help."
Ross’s expression softened slightly. "What kind of help?"
"My husband went missing a week ago," Anita continued. "He has an ability too. He was assigned to an operation outside the perimeter, and... he never came back. I’ve been asking everywhere, but no one can give me answers. I was hoping—no, I’m begging—you to find him."
Ross sighed slowly, his gaze turning serious.
"I don’t know, Anita," he said carefully. "It’s already been a week. And if your husband truly has an ability, then if he were still alive, he should have been able to return by now. Or at least make contact. I fear that..."
He trailed off, letting the unspoken conclusion hang heavily in the air.
Anita clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. "Please, Ross. I don’t care how dangerous it is. I just need to know the truth. Even if it’s bad... I need closure."
Ross studied her for a long moment, torn between practicality and the emotion in her eyes.
He had seen countless tragedies since the apocalypse began, but something about her desperation struck a chord.
"...Alright," he finally said. "I won’t promise anything, but I’ll look into it."
Anita’s eyes widened, filling with relief. "Thank you. Thank you so much, Ross."
As she exhaled shakily, Ross couldn’t help but think that this mission—unlike most—might carry more emotional weight than he was used to handling.
Ross used his divine sense and effortlessly discovered where Anita’s husband was hiding.
He had been cornered and hunted by one of the more advanced, evolved zombies—much like what had happened to Bella and her husband before.
Of course, Ross did not rush to save him.
Instead, he chose a slower, more calculated approach.
He knew that through this so-called search, he could gradually enter the heart of the beautiful woman standing before him.
And so, day after day, he continued to meet Anita. They spoke often.
Sometimes it was brief updates, sometimes long conversations filled with worry, relief, fear, and fragile hope.
"I’m sorry, I didn’t find him today," Ross would say gently.
"I’ll try again tomorrow."
"I’ve found traces of him, yes. I truly believe he’s still alive."
Each time, Anita’s eyes would light up with renewed hope. Each time, her trust in Ross deepened.
She began to rely on him not just as a powerful savior, but as someone she could lean on emotionally.
To her, Ross became a pillar in the darkness of her despair.
Ross made sure that hope never died in her heart—because as long as hope lived, so would her attachment to him.
Anita never realized that Ross had no intention of resolving this situation quickly.
Nor did she see that he was slowly, patiently, weaving himself into her life, her thoughts, and her emotions... all while the truth remained just out of reach.
One night after that, Ross went to see Anita.
"I found this..." he said softly, holding something out to her.
Anita’s eyes widened the moment she saw it.
"It’s his... that’s my husband’s wallet!" she gasped, snatching it from his hand.
Her fingers trembled as she opened it, and when she saw her own picture tucked neatly inside, her knees nearly gave out.
"Where did you find this?" she asked, her voice shaking between hope and dread.
Ross paused, then calmly began weaving another carefully crafted lie.
He spoke of distant locations, dangerous encounters, and faint trails that suggested her husband was still alive but constantly on the move.
His words were measured, believable, and filled with just enough uncertainty to keep her clinging to hope.
As she listened, tears streamed down her face. Ross stayed close, offering comfort, gently steadying her shoulders, murmuring reassurances, and telling her that he would not give up.
"Trust me, Anita," he said quietly. "I’ll keep looking. I won’t stop until I find him."
In that moment, Anita felt more supported than she had since her husband disappeared.
Ross wasn’t just her last hope anymore—he had become her emotional anchor in a collapsing world.