Chapter 370: Talulah's Answer
The members of Reunion paid no attention to Talulah's pale, defeated face, nor to the way her fingers clenched tightly around the hem of her coat.
They had gotten her answer—yet now, a heavier question lingered in the air: what comes next?
"Then… we'd like you to be honest," one of them finally said, his voice trembling slightly.
"What those people said about your plan—what exactly are you doing? Why did you abandon a noble life filled with luxury and glory, just to live among us, a group of lowly infected? Why become our leader?"
Another voice rose to join him, sharp and doubtful.
"You said you wanted to lead us south, to find a city where all infected could live and belong. Was that part of some scheme you'd already prepared long ago?"
One question after another was hurled toward her, each word like a blade carving fresh wounds into the heart of the seemingly steadfast girl.
Among the crowd, Steven watched her quietly—the young woman biting her lip, her hands trembling ever so slightly. His heart ached for her.
But he did not move.
This was the path she had chosen. From the moment Talulah decided to walk it, this kind of moment was inevitable. Her noble blood could never be erased, and as the leader of Reunion, she would one day have to face suspicion head-on.
Only by confronting it, by standing firm beneath their doubts and giving an answer that could convince them all, could she prove herself a true leader.
If she couldn't do even that… then all the ideals she'd spoken of before would be nothing but empty dreams.
Harsh as the thought was, Steven knew it to be true.
He could step in and protect her right now—but if he did, she'd forever live in the shadow of others' distrust.
Talulah finally raised her head.
"I know," she began softly, her voice low but steady, "that with my background, suspicion is inevitable. That's why I've never told anyone where I truly come from."
Her fingers loosened slightly.
"But there is one thing that has never changed."
"I am, like you all, an infected—one of those who are trampled beneath this devouring nation."
"The pain and sorrow every infected has felt—I have endured them too. In fact, it was because I witnessed far too much of that suffering… that I chose this path of resistance."
"I have always believed that a person's worth should not be judged by what they once were, but by what they are doing now. Perhaps, in your eyes, I am still that so-called duke's daughter."
Her gaze swept slowly over the crowd.
"But to me, right now, I am nothing more than a fighter—a warrior standing on this unjust land, fighting for the infected. Nothing more, nothing less."
Her voice—lower and calmer than usual—spread through the camp like a quiet flame.
The murmurs and clamor that had filled the air faded one by one, until silence fell once more.
Steven was a little surprised.
She recovered faster than he'd expected—and every word she spoke carried a raw, genuine emotion that reached straight into the hearts of those listening.
The infected stared at her, their doubts softening, their memories stirring.
How many of them were alive today only because of her efforts?
If Talulah truly meant them harm, if she truly saw them as tools—would she have gone so far, risked so much, for their sake?
Everything Talulah had done—every action, every sacrifice—was clear to everyone present.
If not for that, they never would have chosen her to lead Reunion in the first place.
Nothing spoke louder than actions, and to these infected, her deeds were the truest proof of all.
The suspicious murmurs soon faded.
The hostile, doubting gazes that had pierced through her moments ago softened and slowly disappeared.
Just as the tension began to ease, a deep, gravelly voice cut through the silence.
"By right," a man said, "an outsider like me shouldn't meddle in the affairs of Reunion… but I have something to say."
At once, the entire tent went quiet.
From the dim corner, the Wendigo rose to his feet.
His massive frame loomed over the others, starkly out of place among the frail, starved infected that surrounded him.
No one could ignore him—not when even the sound of his breathing carried weight.
"I discovered her identity long before any of you did," Patriot said, his tone calm yet heavy. "But she has proven herself through action. At the very least, when it comes to saving the infected… she's done no less than the guerrillas."
The words themselves were plain, almost understated—but from him, they carried a weight that made hearts still.
As the leader of the guerrilla forces, there was no one here whose words held greater authority.
Everyone knew that without the guerrillas' protection, they wouldn't have survived long on this frozen wasteland.
And if Talulah truly harbored ill intent toward the infected, Patriot would have been the last to ever allow it.
The last traces of doubt finally faded away.
One by one, the members of Reunion offered Talulah brief farewells before stepping out of the small, makeshift tent.
Perhaps some still carried unease in their hearts.
Perhaps a few had already begun to wonder if they should leave.
But now was not the time for such thoughts.
Only when the last of them had left did Talulah and the others notice the boy still standing boldly in the center of the tent—arms crossed, expression utterly casual, as if watching a play reach its final act.
"…What?" Steven blinked innocently when all eyes turned to him. "You were all talking so passionately just now—I didn't want to interrupt the moment, you know?"
Talulah's gaze flicked toward him, her amber eyes shimmering faintly with exhaustion and just a hint of wounded reproach.
Seeing it, Steven could only shrug, giving her a sheepish grin.
"But hey," he said lightly, "you did great. I'm honestly impressed."
He raised a thumb toward her, his praise as unreserved as his smile.
After all, what harm was there in giving credit where it was due?
As if someone like Talulah would ever get arrogant from a little compliment.
"Of course," he went on, "what you should probably do now… is thank Mr. Patriot over there."
He gestured toward the towering Wendigo with a grin. "Without his vouch, things might not have wrapped up so neatly."
"I know," Talulah replied quietly.
Then, turning her gaze back to Steven, her voice dropped to a softer tone.
"But before that… I want to know one thing."
Her eyes met his—steady, searching.
"Do you believe in me?"
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Note: Character Illustration is in this Google Drive:
https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1iuyfwNVFHzIi9H4rWNT_lAm7jTSiah_M
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