Common Sense Hijack System-Chapter 146: Drama

Karl glanced back at Curtis, who had stepped out behind him, looking alert.

"Shit," Curtis muttered. "This is gonna be bad."

Karl nodded. Yeah. It was.

They both made their way toward the commotion, where a man—one of the older residents, Greg—was standing in the middle of the hall, face red with fury.

"Someone broke into my damn storage box!" Greg bellowed, pointing at the half-open metal container against the wall. Inside, Karl could see the emptied shelves—where cans, dried goods, and emergency rations should have been, there was nothing left.

"They took everything!" Greg’s voice shook with rage. "Whoever it was, they’re dead when I find them!"

The crowd murmured, whispers of suspicion and paranoia spreading like wildfire.

Karl scanned the faces around him. People were already looking at each other, distrust creeping in.

This was how it started.

Food was everything. Trust was fragile.

And if whoever did this wasn’t found soon—

Someone was gonna die.

The tension in the air was palpable as the residents of the apartment complex were gathered in the main hall, a dimly lit space that once served as a communal lounge before the world froze over. Now, it was a war room.

Karl stood near the back, arms crossed, observing. Curtis was beside him, hands shoved into his pockets, his expression unreadable. The suspicions, the paranoia, the desperation—they were boiling over.

Then, she spoke.

"Alright, everyone, calm the hell down."

Julia.

The Ideal Milf of the building.

Tall, poised, and always in control, she exuded authority without even trying. Dressed in her usual practical-yet-unfairly-sexy attire—a fitted jacket, combat boots, and those goddamn thighs—she stood at the center, her presence alone forcing people to lower their voices.

Greg, the man whose supplies had been stolen, was still fuming. "Calm down?! Julia, someone took my food! That’s weeks of rations—gone! You expect me to just stand here while some bastard walks free?"

Julia met his glare with icy composure. "No, Greg. I expect you to think. You shouting like a lunatic isn’t gonna bring your food back."

Greg clenched his fists, but he didn’t argue.

Because no one argued with Julia.

Karl smirked slightly. She had them wrapped around her finger.

Julia scanned the room, her sharp eyes taking in every face. "No one leaves until we figure out what happened. Whoever did this, step forward now, and we’ll handle it the easy way."

Silence.

Karl’s eyes flickered across the crowd, reading reactions.

Some looked nervous. Others angry. A few were just tired of life.

But no one stepped forward.

Julia sighed. "Figures." She turned to one of the younger guys, Jason, the closest thing they had to an enforcer. "Check every unit. If someone’s got extra food that wasn’t theirs yesterday, I want to know about it."

Jason nodded and immediately gathered a few others to start searching.

Karl watched, silently impressed.

Julia didn’t panic. She didn’t point fingers. She took control.

And in this world? That was everything.

Curtis leaned in, muttering under his breath, "You think they’ll find anything?"

Karl doubted it.

Whoever stole the supplies wasn’t stupid enough to keep them in their own unit.

But that just meant one thing.

This wasn’t over.

The search didn’t take long.

Jason and his group returned within twenty minutes, dragging a man forward—Emmet.

Karl had always seen Emmet as quiet, unremarkable. A guy who kept his head down, never caused trouble. But now?

Emmet looked furious. Wild. Like a man who had snapped.

In his arms were Greg’s stolen supplies.

"Found these in his unit," Jason reported.

A ripple of shock and murmurs spread through the crowd. Greg stepped forward, face red with anger. "You son of a bitch! That’s my food!"

Emmet laughed. A bitter, hollow laugh. "Your food?" he spat. "What makes you think you ever had a right to it?"

Karl watched, his instincts on edge. Something wasn’t right here.

Julia narrowed her eyes. "Emmet, start talking. Now."

Emmet clenched his jaw. "Fine. You wanna hear the truth?" He pointed at Greg. "Ask this bastard why he thinks he deserves anything. Ask him what he did."

Greg scoffed. "Oh, don’t give me that martyr bullshit. You’re a damn thief, Emmet. You stole from all of us."

Emmet snapped.

His entire body tensed, his breathing ragged.

"You think I stole from you?" His voice shook with rage. "You think I took something that wasn’t mine?"

His eyes burned with something dark—something broken.

"Fine," he growled. "I’ll show you what theft really looks like."

And before anyone could stop him, Emmet stormed back toward his unit.

Karl exchanged a glance with Julia. She gave him a curt nod. He moved.

Together, they followed Emmet into his apartment.

And the moment they stepped inside—

Everything changed.

---

The apartment was a disaster.

The floor was littered with broken furniture, overturned drawers, torn sheets. The air smelled of old sweat and something darker.

And in the center of the room—

A woman.

Tied to a chair.

Her face swollen, bruised. Dried blood on her lip.

Karl froze.

Julia sucked in a sharp breath.

Jason muttered, "Holy shit..."

The woman barely moved. She lifted her head just enough to look at them—her eyes hollow, distant.

Emmet stood in front of her, his fists clenched so tight his knuckles turned white.

"You see this?" he hissed, turning back to the others. "This is my wife."

Silence.

Greg, who had followed behind, stiffened. "Emmet, what the hell is this?"

Emmet laughed again. But this time, it was more hysterical. More broken.

"You wanna know why I took your food?" he whispered.

Then he turned to Greg, his face contorted in pure hatred.

"Because you don’t deserve to fucking eat."

Greg frowned, stepping back slightly. "What are you talking about?"

Emmet’s whole body shook. "You remember last week, Greg? When I took the snowmobile out? Risked my ass trying to bring back supplies for my wife? You remember that?"

Greg didn’t answer.

He couldn’t.

Emmet let out a shuddering breath. "While I was gone—while I was out there, freezing my ass off, fighting to keep her alive—you were here. In my home."

Karl’s stomach dropped.

Emmet pointed at the bed.

"You fucked my wife on my bed."

The words hung in the air like a curse.

No one moved.

No one breathed.

Greg’s face paled. "That’s—That’s not—"

Emmet screamed.

"Don’t you fucking DARE!"

His voice was raw, agonized. His breathing turned ragged, his chest heaving.

"You think you can pretend it didn’t happen?! You think I don’t know?! I came home to this!"

He pointed wildly at the wreckage of the room. The sheets torn off the bed. The mess left behind.

He choked out a bitter laugh. "You didn’t even try to fucking hide it."

Greg took another step back. "Emmet, you’re losing it—"

"I already fucking lost it!"

Emmet grabbed his head, shaking. "Do you know what it’s like?! To walk in and see your wife—your whole damn world—with another man?!"

His eyes were wild now. Unhinged.

"You defiled my home, Greg. My wife. You left me with nothing."

Karl felt a chill creep down his spine.

Because in that moment, he knew—

This wasn’t about the food.

Emmet wasn’t just trying to survive. freёnovelkiss.com

He was trying to erase the stain left behind.

And he had already gone too far.

The room was thick with tension, an unbearable weight pressing down on everyone present. Karl stood silent, watching, calculating.

Julia, ever the voice of reason and control, stepped forward, arms crossed, her expression unreadable. "Emmet," she said slowly, carefully, "you’re making some heavy accusations. But without proof, this is just your word against Greg’s."

Emmet twitched.

Karl could see it—the way his jaw locked, the way his fingers dug into his palms. He was at his breaking point.

And then, Emmet smiled.

Not a sane smile. Not relief.

Something dark. Something unhinged.

"You want proof?" he whispered.

Then he pulled out his tablet.

A battered old thing, barely functioning, but still alive. He tapped the screen, scrolling through files, his breath uneven.

Karl already knew.

Even before Emmet pressed play, he knew.

And when the video started—

Oh boy.

---

The recording was grainy, low resolution, the feed coming from a hidden camera. The angle was tilted, but the moment the screen lit up, there was no mistaking it.

It was Greg.

And he was on Emmet’s bed.

With Maria.

Karl could hear Curtis sucking in a sharp breath beside him. Julia’s face was a mask of neutrality, but her fingers clenched just a little tighter against her arms.

And then—

Greg’s voice filled the room.

"Tch. That loser still hasn’t come back?"

He sat on the edge of the bed, shirt half-off, smirking down at Maria.

Maria, Emmet’s wife, let out a soft, breathy laugh. "You know him... Always out there trying to prove he’s some kind of provider. God, it’s pathetic."

Greg snorted. "What’s really pathetic is how he thinks he’s a man." He leaned back, arms behind his head. "What kind of guy leaves his wife alone in a world like this? That nerd should’ve known better. He was never gonna keep someone like you."

Maria giggled. "Mmm, I guess I just needed a real man to remind me what I was missing."

Karl felt Emmet’s breath turn ragged beside him.

But the worst part?

The absolute worst part?

Was what came next.

Maria sighed, stretching lazily. "To be honest, Greg... I was holding back at first. But now?"

She smirked.

"I think I was just lying to myself. Emmet was never enough. He never satisfied me."

Greg chuckled. "Not surprising. Guy like that? I bet he’s got a tiny little thing, huh?"

Maria laughed. "Mmm... Not just tiny... Pathetic."

Karl saw Emmet’s hands shake. His breathing turned shallow, erratic.

Greg groaned. "Shit, Maria. If you wanted a real man this whole time, you should’ve just said so. This whole world’s gone to hell. We gotta take what we want, right?"

Maria giggled. "Mmm, exactly. And right now...?" She straddled Greg, running a hand down his chest. "I need a man who can actually make me feel something. A man who can fill me up."

Greg smirked. "Well then, let me show you what a real man feels like."

The recording cut off.

And the room?

Was dead. Silent.

---

Karl glanced at Emmet.

The man was shaking. His whole body trembling with something beyond rage.

Beyond pain.

Greg had no words. He stood frozen, pale.

Julia exhaled slowly, rubbing her temple. "Well..."

She looked at Greg, then back at Emmet.

"This... is a problem."

Karl almost laughed.

A problem?

This was a fucking catastrophe.