Chapter 937 A Drunk’s Ramblings?
Chapter 937 A Drunk's Ramblings?
In any case, the night was still young but I could certainly guarantee that only a small percentage of us had or was having fun. Well, it was also true that if we counted all of Sal and Mauro's men who were wreaking havoc outside, the percentage would change—and if that's the case, you're certainly correct—but the ones in the equation only involved the people inside this mansion.
But yeah, among these lesser families who dodged a bullet, there were ones who were celebrating convivially because they had thick skin and could easily switch sides or recognize that they'd already lost but god fucking dammit being on the other side was cool too.
One example was this lanky couple, the heads of the Aballe Family, who simply produced general crops that could be found anywhere else.
They didn't even have a particular specialty like rare flowers and the like. Still, staples shouldn't be sneezed at because there's a reason rice, corn, and potatoes didn't need much advertising or special requirements to produce or farm like chicken, ducks, and even cows or water buffalos.
It was basically a given to be able to produce such crops or poultry and meat products when starting a farm in this region.
Back home, we can sustain ourselves and have some extra for storage but it couldn't be compared to how abundant this region was in regards to food. The land they owned just for farming or taking care of animals was almost as big as some barangays though the issue I had with these ranches or farmlands was that they couldn't fully envelop their territory with solid, nigh-impregnable walls.
Sure, Sal had the whole area around her mansion plus extra covered with such walls but she couldn't possibly cover her whole territory plus the ones she had on the mountainside.
That's one of the reasons people took advantage of her land because even if she put up fences around them to mark her territory, it's just a freakin' pole with thin wire any kid could easily go through or jump over. She was probably working on them now given the apocalypse but she still couldn't focus her whole attention on that the whole fucking time.
So what better way to go about it than to give the thieves what they fucking wanted at first then take them for all their worth—in the survivor's cases, half their worth—and reap the benefits.
I portrayed it in a different way than what actually happened but that's what basically happened if you wanted to explain in a sentence or two.
With that said, as we eventually joined everyone in the main hall who were either awkwardly trying to avoid eye contact or looking for the sign-up sheet for the 3rd batch to Poundtown, I was approached by this kid who looked to be barely in his 20s and could also barely handle the liquor in the fruit punch.
Him approaching me actually brought a lot of attention but I decided to cut the kid some slack because I've been that young and drunk once, and he was just staring at me blankly for a few seconds.
"What's up, dude? Need something?"
"Hmm? Ah— No! I-I don't need anything…"
Quinn chuckled under her breath, "Well, that was easy…"
I then waved him off, "Alright then, see you—"
"W-Wait! I-I think I have to introduce myself… I-I'm T-Terry, v-very nice to m-meet you, s-sir…"
I chuckled as I offered a handshake, "Nice to meet you too, Terry. I'm Sky Ishiyama—"
"Maaan~ That's a cool fuckin' name~ I wish my name was like that— Hey, c-can I t-touch your sword? J-Just a l-little bit… I w-won't b-break it, I promishhhss…"
"I'm sorry, no. You might hurt someone if—"
"Hah! That's good… That's good… Y-You're totally right… I-I shouldn't o-operate l-legendary a-arma… arm…a-armaments while— you know how the saying goes… A-Anyway…" then he proceeds to scoot in a little closer, motioning to whisper, "Man… S-Sir… I-I gotta tell you s-something… S-Something I-I shouldn't t-tell anyone…"
"Hmm? Then shouldn't you not tell me as well?"
"Shit! Right… Y-You're totally right… Yea… W-Wait! Wait! B-But… Y-You're different m-my guy… I-I think I c-can t-trust you… I-If it's you… I-I'm sure y-you'll l-listen to me a-at least… N-No one f-fucking listens to me…"
"W-What is it then?"
Taking everything into account, he could just be drunk and out of his mind but there was still the .0001% chance that there's a grain of truth in what he's about to say. Besides, I've listened to probably 90% of the conspiracy theories out there and I came out on top after filtering everything out so what can one more do?
Worst case scenario, I'd have one more idea to make my co-conspirators—Oscar, it's just Oscar—blow everything out of proportion just to prove or disprove it or waste a few minutes of my life listening to a drunk man's ramblings.
Then his eyes widened before leaning even closer and the only thing missing was a flashlight shining from below his face to complete the look:
"D-Dude… I-I tried t-telling everyone but t-they d-don't b-believe me… I-I'mma tell you s-straight up… T-There's a w-witch i-in the m-mountains and s-she's doing s-some shady s-shit a-all over t-the area… S-She's been doing t-these fucked up r-rituals w-with the dead t-to gain t-their p-powers a-and I… I-I think s-she succeeded…"
"Powers? You mean immortality?"
I didn't even notice the three had already joined the others but I was already deep in the conversation, it'd be rude to cut it midway. Also, refer to my earlier statements.
Terry nodded menacingly, "T-That's right bro… I-I thought s-sshe was a f-fuckin z-zombie b-because t-those things a-act like s-she's o-one of them b-but I-I saw her pick up a-a frog o-on the ground and p-put it in her pouch one time b-before a goose followed her up t-the mountains—"
It took everything from me to not burst laughing as I tried to ease on the brake pedal, "You at least got proof to back that up?"
"It— I-I was there maaaan~"
"That's…"
"C-C'mon! I-I thought you were a s-straight shootah' but y-you're just like everybody e-else…"
"Well, w-were there any instances aside from that?"
"Uhmm… Let's see… E-Everybody here t-thinks that she's just an o-old woman l-living in the mountains b-but I-I saw what I f-fuckin' saw… I-It was in b-broad daylight too and I n-never had a s-sip of light beer—"
"Beer makes you drunk?"
"Hmm?"
"N-Nevermind, continue…"
He scratched his head a few times while looking at the ceiling, "T-That's the only time I s-saw her do s-something weird that c-close b-but she used to be this h-healer of sorts—"
"A witch doctor?"
"Y-Yeah one of those freaks… B-But anyway… T-Their numbers d-dwindled when *leans even closer* t-this family took c-care of them s-several years back… Shh… Don't tell them I t-told you…"
"I… I kinda know about that, actually—"
"See?! T-That's proof!"
"Wut?"
"W-We finally formed a connection! S-Shit… I think i-it's also safe to say t-that that fucking w-witch started this whole thing—"
"Umm… I don't think so…"
"Haah?! Ya got proof of that?!"
I almost smacked the shit out of him when he threw my words back at me but I always bring my trusty phone with me, even if its only use was to play music and videos or to capture and look at photos. But yeah, the vids I made Terry watch blew his mind even more but he had once again staring at the ceiling as if he was looking at his mind palace.
Then he turned back to me as I was about to leave him alone:
"So… You're telling me that that fucking witch—"
"You think it's best for you to curse her out?"
"Right! RIGHT! G-Great catch, I love ya, man… B-But… Y-You're telling me they're working together?"
I couldn't even imagine the face I was wearing right now, "Working with who?"
He looked around for a moment before leaning close once again, "T-The I-Illumi— Sorry, bro… I don't even feel safe saying it out loud…"
"Riiight… So~ Nice to meet you, Terry… See you tomorrow when you're sober…"
"Ah— D-Did I talk to much? Shit— A-Anyway, t-thanks for listenin' bro~ Toodles!"
'Toodles? Really?'
In any case, meeting this kid was just so random but a few bits from his revelations would actually be harrowing if proved to be true. However, the only way to get the dead's powers a.k.a. their immortality was through infection or simply dying themselves. And if we're gonna go at it by using the WWZ route, that "witch doctor" could've developed a sickness of some sort, that way the dead were avoiding her, but there were a lot more variables that didn't meet that criteria.
However, as I was making my way to Kaley, I heard Terry scream for dear life but all I saw was Sal holding a ladle and serving herself the same fruit punch he was taking.
"THE WITCH! THE WITCH IS HERE! OW! WHAT THE— THAT HURTS! SOMEONE HELP!"
And I've never seen someone get beat up by a freakin' ladle in record time.