Trait Hoarder Chapter 8 Novels & Stories

--- ## Chapter 62: The King of the Forgotten We began to walk. Every step was a struggle. The sand wasn't sand; it was "Garbage Data," and it clung to my boots like wet wool. I felt the weight of my physical heart—the one I had just rebooted—thumping in my chest. It felt like a ticking bomb. "Twenty-eight days," Hope whispered, clutching her "Developer Key" pencil. "The clock is still counting down in the real world. If we don't get out of here, we won't even be around to see the 'Format-All.'"

#HAREM_OF_LUST 🔞 #CHAPTER_8 🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡 🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡 🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡 🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡

I don't want to see her suffers again. END OF CHAPTER 53

And this time, they weren’t hiding. -----------++++ *End of Chapter 80*

the ice. "They aren't failures, Mother! They’re Pre-Paid Deposits!" Hope cried out. "The High Council didn't delete them because they were weak—they stored them because they were Too Much to Burn!". The realization hit me harder than the Magistrate’s gavel. The Eleven Sovereigns weren't a warning; they were my Inheritance. I didn't reach for the fire. I reached for the Original Silence of the wooden key and funneled the entirety of the Ninety-Eight Chapters of Ancestral Hunger into the marble dais.

I asked hoarsely. She nodded, pointing to a utility door. "In there." I forced myself back to my feet, stumbled over to the door, then just stood and stared in shock. The rear half was stacked, floor to ceiling, with cases of ration packs. Enough to feed Candy and her kids three meals a day for a year, easily. My heart raged with anger... this bastard didn't deserve the swift death of being eaten by a lion. He deserved so much worse... but it was too late now.

Elena adjusted her hoodie, every muscle tensed, ready for any surprises. The near-abandoned plaza on the city’s edge, notorious for shady dealings, made her skin crawl. “Get in, get out.” She muttered, willing herself to keep going. This was no place to linger.

As I stood there alone, the chill of the morning creeping back, I clutched his hoodie a little tighter, feeling an odd sense of comfort in the soft fabric. --- I found myself holding his hoodie again, contemplating whether to return it. The familiar scent lingered, filling my senses, and I couldn’t deny the odd attachment I felt. But the logical side of me argued—he would need it back. He’d probably think I was ridiculous for keeping it around anyway. So, with a quiet resolve, I made my way to his room, hoping to catch him there. The pack house was unusually quiet as I walked down the halls, each step echoing faintly in the silence. But when I reached his door, there was no sign of him.

* * * The screaming continued to echo throughout the warehouse as James, Matt, and Andy raced up the stairs, along the corridor, and through the rooms. Once James burst through the last door, he had his emotions under control once again because he knew this was it. He knew what he was about to see would tear at his heart, stir his wrath, and if he couldn’t control himself, all hell would break loose. He’d likely kill Herbert on the spot, and fuck, he didn’t want to do that, especially not in front of Mia. It’d give her nightmares for days to come if she saw the murderous rage in his eyes.

" I clung to her hand, stopping her from making the call. She gave me a pitiful look. "Your parents mentioned you had to drop out of school for home rest because you had a severe delusional disorder. Now, I can see how bad things really are." She continued dialing the number, but Eason charged forward and snatched the phone from her. Then, he dropped it in a bowl of soup. "What the hell do you know? You're all her parents' accomplices! You guys are the crazy ones!" He shoved Ms. Cornell to the ground and grabbed my hand. "Let's go, Allie!"