Having finished his operation, Eric took a shower and leaned back in a massage chair, his eyes half-closed. Though his mental energy hadn't fully recovered, the buzzing of his phone brought him back to reality.
When he checked, he saw that people in the residents' group chat were tagging him nonstop.
[Eric, are you okay?]
[Eric, are you okay?]
[Eric, are you okay?]
Eric frowned and typed: [What?]
He replied first: [I'm alive and well at home. What's going on?] Then he scrolled up to catch up on the missed messages, and his brows furrowed deeply.
'I've never even interacted with the resident from Building No. 3. We don't know each other at all. How do they know my movements so well? When the apocalypse broke out, Eamon was in Building No. 3, wasn't he? Could it be him?' he wondered.
