Apocalypse: I Have A Multiplier System - Chapter 459

Chapter 459: Chapter 459: Soul Fusion
“I would shapeshift into a wolf.” He said firmly.

Su Jiyai blinked. Right. He could do that. But the question is, why hasn’t he done it yet?

The question lingered in her mind as if someone had engraved it in her soul.

As if sensing her question, Qin Feng replied softly,

“I want to make her first time special and prepare for it.”

This was the reason why, even though he had blue balls, he didn’t do anything more than kiss.

“Are you practicing or what?” Su Jiyai joked, but seeing Qin Feng’s red face, she was stunned.

He was?

Well…from a logical point of view, maybe he never touched a woman other than her. It was his first time, too.

So was he practicing so that he wouldn’t hurt her?

Su Jiyai’s cheeks flushed red.

Qin Feng smiled. He was indeed learning so that he couldn’t harm her.

There was also the fact that he wanted her to reveal her identity on her own.

He was waiting for the day when all the secrets between them were exposed.

………………

At night.

Su Jiyai opened the system panel and started renovating the crystal cove that had been acquired.

Did Admiral Ru and Doctor Min want to change the temperature? They need to see if they can enter the vicinity or inside the crystal cove!

After adding Crystal Cove to the expansion map, Su Jiyai built the base, and by dawn, she had completed all construction.

Feeling, Su Jiyai fell asleep.

By the time she opened her eyes, it was already afternoon.

Qin Feng turned toward and smiled when he saw her awake,

“Did you sleep well?”

Su Jiyai nodded and then asked,

“Did the other base give the list of the items they want?”

Qin Feng nodded,

“Yes.”

“Good.” Su Jiyai planned to buy all the food and sell it to everyone. As for attracting them to join her base?

She already has a great idea.

As the golden evening sun dipped behind the dust-stained horizon, Su Jiyai leisurely made her way through the bustling market, her steps unhurried for once.

Yesterday, she had hardly gotten a chance to look around.

The stalls buzzed with life—makeshift vendors peddling rare scavenged goods, desperate survivors trading battery packs, filtered water, and tattered maps.

The scent of burnt grain and something vaguely synthetic lingered in the air. It was chaotic and ragged, yet alive. In this dying world, that meant something.

Su Jiyai kept a steady pace beside Qin Feng, who stayed by her side like a silent shadow.

Just then—thud!

A small body collided into her legs with enough force to nearly knock her off balance. Instinctively, Su Jiyai steadied the child, her hands gently wrapping around the boy’s thin shoulders.

“Hey, are you alright—”

She froze.

There was something strange. Something inexplicable.

The second she touched him, a rush of energy flooded her chest—warm, familiar, and deeply stirring.

The little boy looked up at her with wide, bright eyes that shimmered like cracked amber under the setting sun.

He looked no older than five. Skinny. Dusty.

And yet, a strange wave of excitement rushed through her, like her soul had recognized something her mind hadn’t caught up to yet.

But the boy only blinked and stammered,

“Thank you!”

Then, without giving her a chance to say anything else, he turned on his heel and dashed away, slipping through the crowd like a wisp of smoke.

Su Jiyai remained rooted to the spot, her brows furrowed, a sudden tightness gripping her chest.

[Ding! Congratulations, host, for finding her brother. Do you want to fuse the soul of your brother?]

Her blood turned cold.

Brother? she thought blankly. What do you mean, brother?

She had never had a brother.

At least… not one she remembered.

Her fingers trembled slightly, and her eyes stared at the retreating figure that had long disappeared into the crowd.

“When… When did I ever have the soul of my brother?” she whispered to herself, feeling her thoughts spiral.

And more importantly, why did he look so young? If that boy were truly her brother, he should’ve been older. Not a child, barely out of his toddler years. And if her brother existed, then what about her parents?

Were they still alive?

Had the system known all this time?

A thousand questions slammed into her all at once, but one instinct rang louder than them all.

She spun toward Qin Feng.

“Find him,” she said, voice tight and urgent. “The boy who crashed into me. I want him found. Now.”

Qin Feng didn’t hesitate. “Got it.”

In the next second, he vanished into the thick crowd, his tall frame weaving through people like a predator on the hunt.

Su Jiyai didn’t remain idle either.

Clutching her cloak, she began scouring the market, checking every alley, every food stall, every nook where a small child might hide.

The deeper she went, the more desperate she became.

Her eyes scanned every face, her heart racing with the anxiety of someone chasing after a dream that might vanish forever if she blinked.

For two hours straight, she searched.

But he was gone.

Finally, when she circled back to the main road, Qin Feng was waiting for her, his face dark with frustration.

“I couldn’t find him,” he said in a low, serious tone. “He disappeared. It was like he vanished into thin air.”

Su Jiyai’s heart dropped.

She clenched her fists at her sides and bit her lip.

Was the system lying?

Was it some kind of joke?

Or worse… had she just missed the only chance she had to see her real family?

Her vision blurred slightly, and she turned away, staring out into the horizon where the sun had nearly sunk completely, bleeding red and gold across the sky.

That little boy—her brother—had been right there.

And she let him slip away.

“I need to find him,” she whispered fiercely. “No matter what. Issue a statement to the alliance. My brother is missing, and he is at the Rover base. I will provide the painting.”

Thank god, she had seen his face properly! She would use every resource she has to find her brother.

He was her only blood relative!

But Qin Feng shook his head,

“Don’t. If you inform the alliance, they might use him against you. The worst possible case would be…if they kill to get revenge on you.”

Su Jiyai’s breath hitched at Qin Feng’s warning.

The wind had picked up, blowing flecks of dust across the market street, stinging her eyes.

Or maybe it wasn’t the wind—it might have been the raw emotion threatening to break through the surface.

She looked at Qin Feng, her eyes blazing, her voice hoarse.

“He’s just a child.”

Can’t they be merciful for once?

“Yes,” Qin Feng replied grimly.

“Which is exactly why they’d use him. You’ve made enemies, Boss Su —dangerous ones. If even a whisper of him being related to you gets out, he’ll become leverage.”

Su Jiyai turned her face away, her jaw tightening. She knew he was right.

In this broken world, even children were not spared from the games of power and vengeance.

“I can’t do anything,” she said quietly, a tremor in her tone. “I finally found someone who shares my blood. For the first time, I felt something real. He was right there.”

Qin Feng stepped closer, lowering his voice so only she could hear,

“Then we find him. Quietly. Smartly. Without tipping off the alliance.”

He placed a firm hand on her shoulder, grounding her.

“You’re not alone anymore. I’m with you. Now I have an idea, would you like to execute it? It might cost money, and I can provide that too!”

“Yes!” Su Jiyai agreed.

Qin Feng whispered something in Su Jiyai’s ears, and Su Jiyai beamed.

Yes!

What a great idea! In that way, she could easily find him!

The mood to stroll the market was lost. Su Jiyai didn’t bother to pretend and returned with Qin Feng.

That night, Su Jiyai couldn’t sleep at all.

‘Is he okay? He is not in any danger, right? I will be able to find him before he is dead, right? No! Don’t think negatively! I will be able to find him! Nothing will happen to him!’

…………………..

In an underground room.

“Boss, we have caught the child who had run away.”

The man knelt, one knee pressed against the cold, metallic floor, his head bowed low.

His voice was steady, but there was a thin thread of tension running through it.

The figure seated in the high-backed chair remained silent for a moment, fingers rhythmically tapping the armrest.

The room was dimly lit, casting long shadows that danced along the concrete walls, giving the air a suffocating weight.

“Bring him in,” the figure finally ordered.

The steel door creaked open, and two soldiers entered—each holding one of the child’s arms.

The boy struggled, but his efforts were pitifully weak. He was clearly exhausted, his small frame sagging with fatigue.