MOBA Game Apocalypse-Chapter 60: Children of the Administrators

Chapter 60: Chapter 60: Children of the Administrators
"Don’t."
Adam said it so casually, not threatening at all. In fact, with how small he was, it almost looked comical. Some of the diners who saw it seemed amuse, while most were just shaking their heads.
As for the young man, Erik, he just smirked and relaxed his shoulders when he saw Adam’s clearly not-so-confident face.
"Relax, cowboy. I wasn’t actually gonna hit her. Just messing around, right, Marianne?"
Marianne stepped forward, glaring at Eric but placing her weathered hand gently on Adam’s arm.
"I’m alright, honey. This ain’t worth the trouble." Her voice was steady, but Adam could feel her hand shaking on his skin.
Adam stood there in silence for a moment before finally releasing Eric’s wrist and casually turning back to the counter. He placed the bills he owed there, smoothing them with his palm.
"Thank you, Ma’am," he said to Marianne before quietly turning to leave.
Eric, however, rubbed his wrist with narrowed eyes before exchanging glances with his friends, who immediately moved to block Adam’s exit. They formed a wall between Adam and the door, their arms crossed and their faces smirked.
"Eric!" Marianne raised her voice again, grabbing Eric by the arm, "That’s enough! Let the poor boy go!"
"Tch." Eric shot her an annoyed look and lightly shoved her aside. He dropped the rolling pin as he rushed toward Adam, who had turned back at the sound of Marianne’s voice.
But with a sneer, Eric planted both hands on Adam’s chest and pushed him toward his friends with all his strength. Well, at least that was what he expected to happen.
But Adam didn’t move. Not even an inch. Instead, it was Eric who bounced back.
He stumbled to keep his balance. A small, whimpering gasp escaped his lips in confusion. He blinked rapidly, trying to process what had just happened—and it wasn’t only him.
Eric was nearly twice the size of Adam, and yet he’d been the one pushed back, as if he’d shoved a concrete wall.
The smiles on his friends’ faces vanished. The diner fell silent as Eric and his friends looked at each other. They didn’t even have to say anything as they all realized something at the same time.
This young man wasn’t just some drifter passing through town. He was someone who had participated in the Game and survived. A veteran. Or worse... perhaps even a Hero.
And they had been harassing him all this time.
Adam moved slightly, and every one of Eric’s friends flinched. Even the other diners scrambled to their feet, one even knocking over a glass that shattered on the floor.
But no one moved to clean it up.
Adam simply sighed, glancing over Marianne again and uttering a silent apology. He stepped forward, and Eric’s friends immediately made way, pressing themselves against each other, watching him with wide, frightened eyes.
Without a word, Adam walked out of the diner, the bell above the door jingling cheerfully in his wake.
Adam hurried back to his motel room, shoulders hunched as if expecting trouble to follow. He immediately locked the door behind him, and he sank onto the edge of the bed, staring at the door. Every passing car made him tense, every voice in the hallway had him ready to bolt.
Sleep evaded him completely. He paced the small room, occasionally parting the dusty curtains to peer into the parking lot, watching for police or worse—black SUVs belonging to Dr. Aniston and the Hospital. His mind raced with thoughts—which window to escape through, which direction to run.
He could leave now, but he walked all the way here for the chapel. He wanted to at least see what it was about. And so, he waited—not sleeping a wink at all.
But as dawn broke, painting the cheap motel walls with strips of orange light, Adam realized his fear had been pointless. No authorities came knocking. No voices called his name. Not even a whisper of trouble had found him.
"Great," Adam groaned, rubbing his bloodshot eyes as he stepped outside. The morning air hit his face, but he could only shake his head.
He quickly made his way toward the chapel, expecting someone to block his path to find trouble. But the townspeople merely gave him odd glances.
No one blocked his path. No one even approached him.
When Adam reached the town square, he found the chapel doors already open. A pastor stood at the entrance, greeting each guest with a smile and a firm handshake. Adam hung back, watching the crowd go in—mostly elderly folks who nodded respectfully to the pastor.
Adam waited until the last guests had entered before approaching. The pastor’s smile never faltered as Adam nodded past him.
The wooden benches were barely filled. Adam was hoping to sit at the very back, but it would look more suspicious with how small the crowd was. And so, he sat close to an old couple, pressing himself against the bench.
He opened his ears, listening for anything that might be relevant—but as he was new to this... purpose-searching, he truly didn’t know what to look for.
The people discussed the last Game, muttering about Heroes, praising the Administrators. Nothing of real substance, really.
Most of the people inside the chapel were faces he hadn’t seen in town before. They were mostly older people, their wrinkles suggesting they’d been born long before the Game had changed everything.
He could see some children, there were only a handful of them.
He did, however, catch Marianne at the front. She saw him too, but she quickly averted her gaze from him.
A hush soon fell over the chapel as the pastor made his way to the podium. Unlike most of his guests, he was middle-aged, probably a teenager when the first Game happened.
He placed a worn book on the lectern and surveyed the room with the same warm smile he had been wearing since earlier.
"I see many faces today," the pastor began, his voice resonating through the chapel. "More than usual, which isn’t surprising given how special the last Game was. It truly showed us more of what humanity is capable of—both the darkness and the light."
The pastor paused mid-sermon, his gaze sweeping across the congregation before settling somewhere in Adam’s direction. Adam shifted uncomfortably.
"Today," the pastor continued, his voice dropping to a reverent tone, "We have a very special guest among us."
Adam straightened, suddenly alert. He glanced around, expecting to see someone important—perhaps a Hero or an IBAA official who might reveal something useful.
But the pastor’s eyes were fixed directly on him.
Adam looked to his left, then his right, then behind him. There was no one else the pastor could be addressing. No one else but him.
"Children of the Administrators, behold!" The pastor raised his arms dramatically, pointing...
...straight at Adam.
"Huh?"
And every head in the chapel turned to stare. "Someone who has felt the hold of the Administrators has graced us with his presence!"
"Oh..." Adam muttered.
"...Crap."