"Look, look! Is that a human? It seems like one to me."
"Hey! Stop right there!"
Aron, his entire body smeared with zombie blood, continued walking as if the shouts weren’t directed at him. His aura radiated nothing but death, and he didn’t spare the guards a glance.
"Stop right there, or we’ll shoot you down!"
The guards on the wall raised their guns, aiming at him. Aron’s steps, however, remained steady. He kept advancing, not pausing for even a single moment.
Seeing that he had no intention of stopping, the lead security officer at the gate, the same one who had inspected the truck and slapped Mateo earlier, shouted:
Bullets rained down from every angle. Yet Aron didn’t stop. Not even once. He simply raised his hand, then dropped it.
The guards had expected to see him collapse into a pool of blood. Instead, to their horror, Aron remained completely unharmed. Not only was he uninjured, but there wasn’t even a sign of the bullets they had fired. It was as if they had simply disappeared.
And still, Aron advanced.
The stationed guards stared at the bloody figure moving closer to the shelter. Their hearts grew cold, and a chill spread down their spines.
"A-are you sure he’s human?" one of them asked.
"You’re asking me?" another snapped back.
At that moment, Aron swung his hand as if he were throwing something.
The sharp sound of something tearing through the air cut across the battlefield.
One of the guards, frozen in shock, suddenly dropped with a puncture wound in his forehead. He died instantly, as if shot.
Seeing their comrade collapse without warning, coupled with Aron’s action of swinging his hand, terror flashed across the guards’ faces. Many dropped their weapons on the spot and bolted for the shelter, which had once been a school before the apocalypse.
"All of you, stop right there! Anyone who dares to run will be executed!" the lead security bellowed.
Who were they kidding? They had just realized where all the bullets they fired had gone, Aron had caught them. With his bare hands. And thrown them back.
What a joke! The whole point of hiding in a shelter was to avoid dying early in the apocalypse. And now, they were supposed to fight against someone who could catch bullets?!
If you want to die, don’t drag us with you! the thought echoed in every guard’s heart as their running speed doubled.
Meanwhile, Aron broke through the gate, his eyes cold and murderous. Each time his hand flicked, another fleeing guard dropped.
The lead guard, who had been barking orders seconds ago, was now sprinting at the front of the group, his tough act nowhere to be found. His heart pounded in fear as he fled for his life.
Who the hell did the boss offend this time?! We’re just regular people who only know how to shoot! I didn’t sign up for this!
Around the yard, slaves working nearby froze. The guards, once treated as gods inside the shelter, were now fleeing in panic. The slaves didn’t bother asking why; they all turned and stampeded toward the school-turned-shelter as well.
Aron’s pace remained calm and steady. His hands burned from catching bullets, but the rage in his heart made the pain insignificant. His only goal was Mateo. Anything that stood in his way would die.
When his stock of caught bullets was exhausted, none of the guards dared fire another shot. Instead, they scrambled inside and locked the doors, leaving others outside to fend for themselves.
"Please, open the door! I’m begging you! I don’t want to die!"
The locked-out guards pounded desperately, their cries echoing through the air.
Aron ignored them. One kick, and the door swung wide open. He stepped through without hesitation.
The moment he entered, something whistled..
Seven figures lined up in the hallway, bazookas aimed at the entrance. The blasts tore through the passage, filling it with blood, gore, and smoke. Official source is novel✦fire.net
Through the haze, Aron emerged, unharmed. His steps were steady, his expression unshaken. Not even his hair or blood-soaked clothes had been disturbed.
The bazooka squad trembled in fear and disbelief.
How can a human be this strong?!
They didn’t know the truth, that Aron’s fortsphere ability had protected him. To them, he was a monster.
Behind the kneeling men stood a middle-aged man. His clothes were immaculate, his skin unnaturally healthy. It was clear he held sway in the shelter. But his voice betrayed his fear.
"Y-young man, our leader... he’s out on an outing. He’s not here. He’ll be back in a day or two, if you don’t mind coming back then."
Aron said nothing. His footsteps didn’t speed up or slow down.
The bazooka men were still on their knees, weapons still on their shoulders. They didn’t dare breathe too loudly. Some of them had already wet themselves from fear.
When Aron reached them, he backhanded in one smooth motion. Crack. Crack. Crack. Their necks snapped, twisting at unnatural angles. Six bodies slumped to the floor, eyes wide with disbelief and unwillingness.
Aron didn’t care. Mercy was not something he offered to those who tried to kill him.
The middle-aged man trembled, nearly fainting.
"T-this shelter belongs to D-One! I, I’m his brother! If anything happens to me, he’ll hunt you down!"
Aron finally stopped in front of him. His voice was cold.
"Where is the man who was bound and taken in just now?"
The man’s panic shifted instantly to smugness. He thought he had found Aron’s weakness.
Ah. So this monster feared his brother. Finally, something he could use.
Nobody in the shelter respected him, he was just the tagalong brother of an awakened. But if he could cow this beast in front of everyone, then finally, finally, he’d have his moment of glory.
"How dare you barge into my shelter, kill my men, and demand I hand over one of my slaves? Do you take me for a pushover?!"
Aron stared in silence.
Reassured, the man puffed out his chest and shouted louder.
The slaves hiding in the shadows vomited on the spot. In Aron’s hand dangled a severed head, spine attached, blood dripping onto the floor. The body collapsed headless beneath it.
The man’s expression was frozen in confusion, as though wondering why he’d suddenly grown taller... right before eternal darkness swallowed him.
Without a change in expression, Aron dropped the head without ceremony and stepped over the corpse.
He turned toward one of the trembling slaves.
"Do you know where the bound man was taken?"
The woman nodded frantically, like a hen pecking at grains.