Apocalyptic Rebirth: With a repairman system space, she rises again.-Chapter 668: The last dinner.

They were led into the grand dining hall of the hotel, and for a moment, the sheer gaudiness of it was blinding. It was overly decorated in the way an old funeral parlor tries to look like a ballroom_ gold leaf peeling at the edges, heavy velvet drapes that probably housed a decade’s worth of dust, and chandeliers that dropped so low that they were almost brushing people’s heads. The marble floor had probably been white, once upon a time but now, it was brown.

"We spared no expense," Mark Walden chirped, his voice echoing off the high ceilings. He gestured broadly, his chest puffed out like a peacock. "I made sure my team knew that this wasn’t just a dinner. This was a welcome home. This hall was decorated specifically for you, our soon to be leaders."

Mark was still mid-sentence, waxing poetic about the vintage of the wine and the craftsmanship of the table, when Sunshine decided she’d heard enough.

Without a word, she bypassed the guest seating. Her boots clicked rhythmically against the marble floor as she headed straight for the position of the head of the table.

It wasn’t just a chair; it was an oversized, high-backed monstrosity that looked more like a throne rather than a place to eat soup. Someone had spent so much time sitting there that the cushion had developed a permanent butt imprint.

She turned, her fur coat billowing behind her, and sat. She didn’t just sit; she reigned. Her posture was majestic, her expression one of bored royalty. Hades, ever the silent shadow, took the seat immediately to her right. He didn’t look at the silverware. He looked at Walden’s men, his dark eyes simmering with a silent, predatory challenge.

Then Carson sat to her left, and smiled provocatively, earning an eye roll from Father Nicodemus and Major Elio.

Clover, one of Walden’s advisors_ a man who looked like he’d spent his life sucking on lemons_ went pale. "Excuse me ma’am. You are in the wrong seat."

Howard stammered, pointing a shaky finger. "Sunshine, that... that is Mark’s seat. The head of the table is reserved for the host."

Sunshine didn’t even look at him. She just adjusted her dress. "I think I am more comfortable here."

"Is there a problem?" Hades asked, twisting a metallic chopstick between his fingers casually. The sharp tip caught the light dangerously.

"It’s fine! It’s perfectly fine!" Mark interrupted, waving Clover off with a frantic, sweaty hand. "Please, let her sit where she’s comfortable. We’re all friends here, aren’t we? Anyway, that position will belong to Hades Quinn sooner or later and they are married. What is his is hers. Sit, everyone! Sit!"

Walden’s people sat, though they looked like they were sitting on crates of live grenades. The Fortress Four squad remained standing for a beat longer than was polite, their hands never straying too far from their holstered sidearms, before finally taking their places.

Then came the food.

A small army of servers whisked in, carrying silver platters that groaned under the weight of roasted meats, glazed vegetables, and aromatic stews. The smell was surprisingly appetizing_ rich, savory, and deep. Walden gave a grand nod.

"Let us begin! A feast to celebrate our future!" Walden cried, grabbing his fork.

His people dived in with an enthusiasm that felt rehearsed. They shoveled food into their mouths, making loud noises of appreciation. However, the soldiers from Fortress Four didn’t move. They sat like statues, their plates untouched.

Mark stopped chewing, a piece of gristle hanging from his lip. He looked around the table, his eyes darting back and forth. "Why aren’t you eating? Is the seasoning not to your liking? Forgive us, the apocalypse has changed a lot of things," He let out a forced, high-pitched chuckle when still none of them flinched. "You don’t think we poisoned the food, now do you? That would be quite the cliché, wouldn’t it?"

Major Elio replied boldly and loudly, "The last time we saw meat outside of our fortress, it turned out to be human flesh. Since then, we don’t indulge in meat feasts cooked by unknown people."

The Walden team looked horrified, like they could not imagine something like what the Major was talking about.

Mark laughter. "This meat came from your base. It came from your markets. I can assure you that no matter how desperate we have found ourselves sometimes around here, we would never eat our own kind."

"System scan this food." Sunshine ordered silently.

[Yes host]

A second later, the system spoke again.

[System scan complete: Biohazard detected, a substance known as OnnaVella derived from very toxic mutated plants has been detected in high concentration. It is lethal and causes death within 60 seconds of ingestion.]

Sunshine didn’t scream. She didn’t flip the table. Instead, she laughed. It was a simple, rich sound_ a jagged laugh that sliced through the clatter of silverware like a razor.

The table went dead silent.

Mark wiped his mouth with a silken napkin, his hand trembling just enough to notice. "What’s so funny?" He asked, trying to mirror her energy. He let out a weak, pathetic "Ha-ha" of his own. "Share the joke, Mrs. Quinn!"

Sunshine tapped the table three times and took the metal chopstick from Hades’ hands. It was a signal to the others that something was wrong with the food.

Hades took the chopstick from her and flicked his eyes to Mark’s neck.

Mark touched his neck, wondering what was so interesting about it.

"You were never going to hand over this territory Mark," Sunshine said, her voice dropping to a low, dangerous purr. She looked at her steaming plate of meat. "Tell you what, Mark. Since you’re such a gracious host, let’s play a game. Let’s all exchange plates. You take ours, and we’ll take yours. A gesture of true brotherhood."

The color drained from the room. It was as if someone had pulled a plug on the life force of Walden’s group.

They froze, forks halfway to their mouths. The terror on their faces exposed them immediately.

"That is outrageous!" Howard shrieked, jumping to his feet. He was the one who had orchestrated the whole plan, his heart racing with the insane idea of wiping out the base leaders in one meal. "You really think the food is poisoned? After all the work we put in to make this visit a success! We have bent over backwards to please you all. There is more food on this table that the residents here have eaten in three days. This is an insult to our honor!"