บททั้งหมดของ Reborn in the Freeze: My Million-Dollar Shelter Begins with : บทที่ 131 - บทที่ 140

The hidden bunker was smaller than Clara's, older, more cramped. It had been built during the Cold War, abandoned in the 1970s, and rediscovered by Margaret and her people when they had fled the Coalition months ago. Its walls were bare concrete, its floors cracked and stained, its air thick with the smell of damp and decay. But it was warm, it was hidden, and it was safe. For now.Clara had come alone, leaving Mira and David behind at the mountain. She had not wanted to risk more of her people on a mission that might be a trap. She had not wanted to lose anyone else.She followed Margaret through the narrow corridors, her eyes scanning for threats, her hand resting on the pistol at her hip. The people she passed stared at her with a mixture of fear and curiosity—gaunt faces, hollow eyes, thin bodies wrapped in layers of scavenged clothing. They were survivors, refugees, people who had been hiding for months. They were terrified. They were desperate. They were alive."He's in here," M

The war room was small, cramped, and filled with maps. They covered every surface—the table, the walls, even the floor. Red pins marked enemy positions, blue pins marked friendly ones, and black lines traced the routes of patrols, supply convoys, and communication networks. It was a masterpiece of military planning, and it had taken Harrison three days to complete.Clara stood at the head of the table, her eyes scanning the maps, her mind racing with possibilities. Harrison sat in a wheelchair beside her, his body frail but his eyes sharp, his voice steady despite the weakness that consumed him."This is the Coalition's main camp," Harrison said, pointing to a large red pin near the center of the map. "It's located here, in the ruins of an old military base about fifty miles north of your bunker. It houses approximately two hundred soldiers, along with support personnel, supplies, and equipment. It's heavily fortified, heavily guarded, and heavily defended."He moved his finger to a s

The argument had been building for days. Clara had seen it in Mira's eyes, in the set of her jaw, in the way she moved through the bunker with a quiet, simmering anger. She had known it was coming. She had been dreading it. But she had not expected it to happen like this—in the middle of the common room, in front of everyone, with Mira's voice rising and her small fists clenched at her sides."I want to fight," Mira said, her voice steady but fierce. "I want to be on the assault team. I want to be with you."Clara looked at her, at her bright eyes, at her small face, at her determined expression. She felt a surge of fear, hot and sharp, that she had been trying to suppress for weeks. She had trained Mira, had taught her everything she knew, had prepared her for the world. But this was different. This was war. This was death. This was the end of everything."No," Clara said, her voice firm. "You're not fighting. You're staying here, with the defense team. You're protecting the bunker,

The assault began at 4:47 AM, three minutes ahead of schedule.Clara had planned for every contingency, had prepared for every possibility, had trained for every scenario. But war, she had learned, was chaos. War was confusion. War was the sudden, brutal intrusion of reality into the neat little boxes of strategy and tactics. And the moment the first shot was fired, all her plans became obsolete.She stood at the edge of the tree line, her binoculars raised, her breath misting in the freezing air. The Coalition camp stretched before her in the pre-dawn darkness, a sprawling complex of tents, vehicles, and fortified structures built around the ruins of an old military base. Fires burned in metal drums, their orange glow casting flickering shadows across the snow. Guards patrolled the perimeter, their rifles slung across their backs, their breath misting in the cold. They were complacent, confident, secure in their numbers and their defenses.They had no idea what was coming.Harrison's

The silence after battle was always the hardest. The guns fell silent, the explosions ceased, the screams faded into echoes. But the quiet that followed was not peaceful. It was heavy, suffocating, filled with the weight of everything that had happened. The dead lay where they had fallen, their blood staining the snow red. The wounded moaned in pain, their cries echoing through the camp. The survivors stood among the ruins, their faces blank, their eyes hollow, their minds struggling to process the horror they had witnessed.Clara walked through the camp, her body aching, her wounds stinging, her heart heavy. She had been patched up by Nadia—her arm bandaged, her leg wrapped, her cheek stitched. She would heal. She would survive. But the memories would stay with her forever.The Coalition soldiers had gathered in the center of the camp, their weapons stacked in a pile, their hands raised in surrender. They were leaderless, demoralized, broken. They had watched their commander die, had