Playing The Victims [BL]

Chapter Seventy-Six | Third World

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Directly in the centre of the safe-zone, behind more walls and through tougher security, were the people who had gone almost untouched by the virus. Their immediate surroundings were in far better condition than the remainder of the city.

One of the key features was a luxurious, glass-panelled building which would have been considered an architects pride and joy. It was an eye-catching building, and inside were a few rare flowers. There used to be more, but they were removed and planted elsewhere in order to make room for medicinal plants.

It was stunning, and completely out of place if one were to take a step back and regard the entirety of the safe-zone. While mother-nature was encouraged on the other side of the walls, it definitely wasn't the case in the environment where the elite lived. Things were kept in as pristine condition as they could be.

Many aspects of this small community, filled with the super-wealthy, would be perceived as unnecessary. Things were built or created in order to guarantee their lives of privilege. It would be enough to make every other survivor, who work hard to earn the bare-minimum, sneer in disgust.

Alongside the greenhouse was a fully-functioning private airport. One which stored a few, small private jets belonging to the owners that were originally transported in them when the virus spread. Also making use of this space was the military's top-spec jets. All positioned strategically, if ever the walls were breached.

On top of all that, was a hospital. One which housed the best of the surviving health-care professionals. They were required to monitor the vitals of each and every person within this tight community. Although few regarded their positions as morally wrong, knowing how many people were quite possibly in need in the outer perimeters of the safe-zone, they couldn't bring themselves to voice a complaint. They would much rather live out the remainder of their years in the confines of the affluent.

Which was the complete opposite opinion of one of their patients, who was shirking off the medical-attention, that was practically being forced upon him. The staff were completely overwhelmed, dumbfounded by the handsome young-man's sheer determination to escape.

"Sir, you may feel fine but it's best if we take a blood sample. You could have picked up any slight contagion when you were outside the walls." Said doctor went to touch the patient's forearm, but his hand was slapped away without hesitation.

"I'd rather not."

The doctors were stumped, they had yet to come across someone who would refuse medical attention. And on any other occasion, they would have adhered to what the patient requested, but they were acting upon orders. Orders they were becoming increasingly wary that they wouldn't be able to fulfil.

Fortunately, without their knowledge, someone who could deal with the stubborn Commander, stepped into the room. "Niklas, what's this I hear about you refusing help?" The Supreme Commander's voice was always immediately recognisable.

The doctors straightened their backs as they greeted him. And they scurried from the room when he asked for privacy. Leaving behind the two intimidating figures.

"I don't want it." The commander replied, fixing his clothing. He had already, to much protest, spent the entire evening in the hospital, being monitored by the same doctors who continued to want to poke and prod him. In his opinion, he'd spent enough time off-duty.

The Supreme Commander crossed his arms over his chest, his dark eyes narrowed as he looked at his younger mirror-image. He lamented how much they were alike, it made every conversation that ten times more difficult. Especially when it came to Niklas and his work.