Elric's eyes swept across the room with newfound clarity, observing Natasha and Jenna through his newly acquired Emotional Aura ability like a scientist studying specimens under a microscope.
The power was subtle but undeniable—colorful hazes overlaying each person, invisible to normal sight but crystal clear to his enhanced perception.
Both of their auras glowed faintly blue—neutral, calm, the color of emotional equilibrium. But there was a difference, one that became more apparent the longer he watched.
Natasha's blue shimmered with a hint of red bleeding through at the edges, like dawn light touching a winter sky. A subtle warmth that spoke of preference and loyalty, of genuine attachment forming despite the transactional nature of their relationship. She was becoming invested, whether she realized it or not.
Jenna, in stark contrast, was entirely blue—pure, cold, unmoved. Her aura revealed neither attachment nor enthusiasm, no warmth whatsoever. Just neutral acceptance, the emotional equivalent of a signed contract with no feelings attached.
"Huh…" Elric muttered, tilting his head as understanding dawned. "So Jenna was all bold and energetic just now, but her real emotions… completely indifferent."
He smirked at the revelation, finding dark amusement in the disconnect between performance and reality.
Her outward display—the enthusiasm she'd shown earlier, the apparent eagerness—had nothing to do with him personally. It had been about the food, about the minor quarrel with Natasha that gave her a chance to assert some dominance, and about salvaging her own pride through participation rather than passive acceptance.
That she had acted so openly, so apparently willing, didn't signify any real affection. It was survival instinct wearing the mask of cooperation.
Elric wasn't angry about the deception. In fact, he found it predictable, almost reassuring in its rationality.
He didn't need love or devotion from them—not really. Those were luxuries from the old world, emotions that required safety and stability to flourish. For now, in this immediate phase of survival and power-building, they were just resources to nurture the Devil Fruit Tree.
Living batteries, essentially, though he'd never say that out loud.
As long as they didn't outright refuse to communicate in depth—as long as they continued providing what the System needed—it was fine. Their inner feelings were their own business.
Turning off the aura scanner with a mental command, letting the colorful overlays fade back to normal vision, Elric picked up his phone from where it had been charging on the windowsill.
He had been receiving messages steadily over the past few hours—a flood of desperate pleas from survivors claiming they met his criteria. Beautiful women in need, "eligible adopters" as the System termed them, reaching out through various social media platforms and survivor networks.
But so far, after scrolling through dozens of profiles and reading countless messages, none were truly suitable.
Some were morally self-serving, sending long, lecturing messages about responsibility and fairness. About how "in times like these, we need to help each other" and "hoarding resources is wrong." They wanted his supplies but refused to accept the terms, expecting charity while maintaining their moral superiority.
Some were just greedy, offering absurd amounts of supplies they clearly didn't have for a single "chance." Promising delivery of food or weapons or medicine that would never materialize, transparent lies from desperate people.
Others were clearly dangerous—profiles that screamed "trap" or "robbery attempt," people trying to lure him out of his safe location with promises of trade or alliance.
Elric scrolled past them all with practiced efficiency, his thumb moving automatically to delete or ignore.
After the incident with Liam back at Hudson State University—the betrayal, the attempted robbery, the violence that had almost cost him everything—he had learned quickly and thoroughly.
When the world falls apart, when society's structures collapse and laws become meaningless, morality meant nothing. It was a luxury of the civilized, something that required surplus and safety to maintain.
Only survival counted. Only power. Only the willingness to do whatever was necessary.
Pretty words and noble intentions didn't fill stomachs or stop bullets or protect against monsters.
Just as he was about to put the phone down, having exhausted the new messages without finding anything worthwhile, a familiar name popped up in his notifications.
Elsa.
The name made Elric pause, his thumb hovering over the screen, memories flooding back unbidden.
Elsa—his old college crush from years ago, back when he'd been naive enough to believe in love and connection. Once roommate and girlfriend of Jacob, one of his terrible dorm mates. A woman who had passively conspired against him in the past, smiling sweetly while others humiliated him, never directly participating but never intervening either.
She'd watched them mock him, use him, treat him like a servant, and she'd said nothing. Just smiled that knowing smile.
Though elegant and beautiful by anyone's standards, she had a manipulative streak that ran deep—the kind that had earned her the nickname "White Lotus" among their classmates who saw through her act. Pure and innocent on the surface, poisonous underneath.
Yet despite knowing what she was, despite the old wounds, he had to admit her appearance still met the System's standards perfectly.
Five-foot-seven, long black hair that cascaded to her waist like a waterfall of silk, a refined bookish elegance that made her look like she belonged in a classical painting. Her facial features were sharper than Jenna's, more refined, with a bone structure comparable to Natasha's prideful beauty.
Elric frowned, conflicting thoughts warring in his mind.
He wasn't looking for a new partner—not actively. Between Natasha and Jenna, his plate was full, and adding more complications seemed unnecessary.
But someone like Elsa couldn't simply be ignored or dismissed. She might become a valuable "adopter" in the System's terminology, another resource to cultivate the Abyssal Tree. Another source of power and supplies.
As long as she played by his rules, as long as she understood the new hierarchy of this world.
How he handled her in the future would depend entirely on her actions, on whether she adapted to reality or clung to old delusions of power and status.
Elric opened the message with a tap, curiosity overriding caution.
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