He had lost both his parents during the early days of the apocalypse. They had sacrificed themselves to protect him and his grandmother, using their own bodies as a decoy to draw away a zombie horde and buy time for others to escape. Entrusted to the soldiers in those final moments, the boy and his grandmother survived, but survival had come at a steep cost.
Since then, the boy had been doing what little he could: babysitting younger children with his grandmother to earn a few work points, just enough to afford some instant noodles, clean water, and the occasional biscuit. But as he grew, the meager nutrition wasn’t enough, and the pay was barely sustainable.
So his grandmother had brought him here, to the new vegetable prep building, one of the few places where an elderly woman like her could still work. And even though he was only ten, he could help too. After all, every pair of hands mattered now.
His grandmother nodded and happily pulled him inside. In the building, Mrs. Winters and her staff were busy registering people who came to apply for the job. Once registered, a staff member handed each elder and child a basket and guided them to the other side of the building, where they could find a spot and begin working.
When their basket was filled to the brim, they could simply return to the main building to have it weighed and recorded. After that, they were free to choose whether they wanted to continue working or cash out. This system gave the elderly and children the flexibility to work at their own pace and rest when needed.
Once they chose to cash out, their work points would immediately be calculated and given to them. They could then go home and either use the points to buy supplies or save them for future emergencies.
After explaining everything, both the elderly and children were visibly happy. Many of the survivors who made it to City B had no remaining family, and some lacked the physical strength to take on more demanding work.
Most relied on simple jobs like babysitting, and because they were either very young or elderly, their options were limited, they didn’t qualify for most of the jobs posted on the mission board.
This new opportunity gave them a sense of hope. Their income would now depend solely on their own effort, how much they could contribute each day. There were no long-term commitments, no penalties for taking breaks, and no salary deductions.
They were free to come and go as they pleased, any day of the week, which made it especially appealing to the elders. Many of them still had responsibilities at home, such as preparing meals or looking after other families’ children.
Because of this flexibility, even parents who already had jobs began sending their older children to help out at Mrs. Winters’ workshop, treating it like a daycare. And in many ways, it was.
Young children who could assist with simple tasks were welcome, and when they got tired, a nap room was prepared in the back where they could rest. Even if the children didn’t meet the full weight requirement, Mrs. Winters still rewarded their effort with minimal work points, as a small encouragement.
However, to prevent parents from exploiting the system, Mrs. Winters also implemented safeguards, ensuring that while every effort was recognized, fairness and responsibility were maintained.
Seeing everything fall into place and the plan progressing smoothly, Kisha was finally able to relax. Although she hadn’t yet resolved the Military Academy cafeteria’s supply issue herself, the other leaders stepped in with solutions, and even took the initiative to establish a treasury.
To ensure consistency and avoid anyone from noticing the discrepancies in delivery records, Kisha asked Aston to appoint a trusted individual to personally oversee the deliveries and manage the supply accounting. She planned to maintain a fixed schedule of supply distribution from her territory’s warehouse, designating the academy cafeteria as one of the official recipients.
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