As the drill sergeant explained the plan to the group, everyone stood unnaturally still, eyes fixed forward. No one shifted their weight or spoke. They all understood this was a matter of life and death, and the tension pressed down on them like a physical weight.
Clementine deliberately avoided my gaze, angling her body away and keeping her hands busy with her gear. I exhaled through my nose and turned instead toward Robert. He sat off to the side, posture relaxed, one arm draped casually over the table as he sipped his coffee, a faint smile resting on his lips.
I dragged a chair back, the legs scraping softly against the floor, and sat opposite him.
"Max, do you want some coffee? It'll get you ready for the day ahead. How about having a cup with me?"
He poured me a cup and slid it across the table. I didn't touch it. Instead, I met his eyes without blinking. The longer I stared, the stiffer his posture became, until the smile on his face slowly faded.
"Ha… it's okay if you don't want it. I won't force you," he said, smiling nervously.
"Robert, were you involved in yesterday's incident?" I asked calmly. "If you were, you'd better tell me now. It won't be good for you if I find out my own way."
I finally picked up the coffee, lifting it with deliberate slowness. As I sipped, my eyes drifted around the room, watching how a few people subtly tensed when they noticed us.
"Ah… I didn't tell those boys to harass Clementine," Robert said, still smiling nervously, his cup untouched in his hand.
I set my coffee down and placed my pocketknife on the table between us. The soft sound of metal against wood cut through the quiet.
Robert's eyes widened before he caught himself. His shoulders tightened, and his breathing grew shallow. He drew in a deep breath, forcing his voice steady as he spoke.
"Everyone fears you, but more than that, everyone wants you. Even Nicole. All of us have tried to get you on our side and failed. Eventually, we realized the only way to reach you was through Clementine. Do you know how valuable even the smallest piece of information about Clementine's likes and dislikes is?"
I lifted the cup again and took another slow sip.
"Stop beating around the bush. Tell me how you were involved."
Robert hesitated, jaw clenched, then nodded slightly, as if resigning himself.
"When I learned that Clementine was visiting our camp for the first time, I planned to eliminate my rivals along with those annoying boys. I wanted to involve Daniel, but he refused. He was afraid of you if the plan went wrong."
He finally drank from his coffee, his hand trembling enough to cause a faint ripple across the surface.
"Everyone knew those three boys were trouble, including their parents. Whenever you came around, they'd hide them to avoid problems. I hid the information that you were already inside the Common Ground. To stop that information from reaching them, I called an emergency meeting as soon as you arrived. Because of that, the boys roamed around the Common Ground like they usually did. I knew their lustful and reckless personalities—they were bound to pick a fight with you or Clementine."
His voice shook slightly, and he cleared his throat, swallowing hard.
"When that happened, I planned to defend you and Clementine so you'd see me favorably. If that happened, I could greatly weaken their influence and eventually kill them—especially those three boys. But the plan worked much better than I expected. Both of my rivals died, along with those annoying boys, on the same day. You agreed to become the leader, even if only temporarily. Using your name, I managed to form an alliance with the moonshine boy and gained absolute control over the Common Ground. That's everything."
He fell silent, eyes locked on my hands, tracking every movement.
I swung the pocketknife in a single, fluid motion.
Two fingers hit the floor with a dull sound.
The coffee Robert had been holding spilled across the table and onto the ground as blood followed. His face twisted in agony, veins standing out along his neck, but he made no sound. His teeth ground together as he pressed his remaining fingers against the wound, fighting to stop the bleeding.
"If you ever do something like this again, next time it will be your throat," I said quietly, lifting my cup and finishing the coffee.
"Thank you for showing mercy," Robert said with a smile. Despite the pain, he genuinely looked relieved.
"Tell me," I asked, watching him closely, "why do you want them dead so badly?"
Robert's smile vanished, his expression hardening as anger surfaced.
"It's fifteen years of hatred," he said. "I've been carrying it for a long time. I've been living like a dog for a long time. If I'd had the power, I would have killed them long ago. I wanted to kill those three boys with my own hands. Unfortunately, I didn't get the chance—but they became good food for the dogs. That's the best thing they ever did in their lives."
A short, bitter laugh almost escaped him.
"For the price of two fingers, having them all dead was worth it. I'm happy. Do you want more coffee?" Robert asked, smiling brightly.
I nodded once, and we drank together. His hands shook as he poured, but his smile never faltered.
As I sipped, Robert leaned in slightly.
"Don't listen to Nicole. If you do, you'll become overly protective of Clementine. That will ruin your relationship, causing you to either become weak or reckless. In both cases, Nicole will try her best to pull you to her side. If she can't, she'll find a way to eliminate you."
"You don't have to tell me," I said calmly. "I already know."
Robert blinked, surprise flickering across his face.
"Do you think I don't know what's going on? What all of you are doing behind my back?" I continued quietly. "I know everything. I'm just waiting for one of you to cross the line."
His grip tightened around the cup, his face turning pale.
I set the coffee down and walked toward Clementine. My steps were unhurried and confident. I had planted a few spies in each camp, all of them feeding me information. Combined with my sharp hearing, no whispered conversation escaped me, even if they were fifty feet away. Even when people hid behind bushes, trees, or buildings, I always knew where they were.
Clementine and the others were gearing up, checking weapons and packs with practiced motions. The plan was simple: break a horde of nearly twenty thousand undead into smaller groups of a few thousand.
On an open plain, that was almost impossible. Even when attacked from all sides, the horde only scattered briefly before regrouping. Once the distance between them grew too wide, they inevitably rejoined the main mass. Breaking them apart in open terrain would have required massive amounts of grenades and ammunition, resources we didn't have.
The dense forest was our best option. Limited visibility would disrupt their coordination. Trees would restrict movement, forcing separation, while traps hidden among the undergrowth would fracture the horde even further. If everything went wrong, we could climb and escape upward instead of being overwhelmed.
But the horde was intelligent. They avoided dense terrain instinctively.
That meant we had to drive them in ourselves.
That was the job assigned to all of us.