Apocalypse King: Recruiting S-Tier Beauties With My Ruler System
Chapter 148: Pale Eyes in the Dark

Chapter 148: Pale Eyes in the Dark

March 20th, 12:55 PM — Longwan Mall, Ground Level – Rear Loading Corridor

Mu Qinglan POV

—

Finally, after chasing the monster, we found a fairly secure room to rest and eat...

The area we’d stopped in used to be a merchandise drop point, with sealed overhead shutters, stacked pallets, and a chain-link partition dividing the hallway from the main loading floor. It was one of the few places left that felt untouched by the chaos.

For the moment.

Deng Hua was sitting on a crate, chewing on half a protein bar like it might run away from him. Liang Qiu and Zhou Xue checked over their bows. Chen Xun hadn’t spoken since we entered this space, but he kept glancing at the shadows behind the plastic-wrapped shelves with a nervous expression.

Liang Mei was near the wall—her heart didn’t cause issues, and she only ate a small biscuit from the MRE I shared.

She didn’t speak like earlier either, probably spooked by the white monster and the eerie atmosphere. Just sat quietly with her knees drawn to her chest, watching me.

I didn’t eat either.

John’s scent was long gone now.

The blood trail had faded, and that strange white substance had disappeared too.

But I still couldn’t shake the pressure in my spine, like something was just out of sight, but not gone.

Zhou Xue pulled her water bottle from her pack and glanced at me.

"Should we keep moving?"

"I think we should rest up a bit more, it’s only been an hour since we came here."

"I see, well... I will keep my eyes out."

Then something changed.

My earpiece clicked once, just a faint static pop — and I heard his voice.

"...Qinglan, can you hear me?"

The connection warped, faded, then snapped again into static.

I sat upright. My fingers brushed against the hilt of my sword.

John’s voice.

He sounded strained, out of breath and full of worry. But alive.

"Did you hear that?" I asked quickly.

Zhou Xue nodded. "It was him. It came through."

Why now?

We hadn’t moved far. We’d been in the same area for the last hour, so what stopped us from communicating earlier?

The signal had been dead the whole time. I hadn’t even felt interference since we arrived.

Then my heart skipped.

I looked down at my hand.

It was trembling.

His voice came through once more, but the crackle became worse as I called out to him, trying to hear his voice clearly.

"...Qinglan. Get out of there."

"John! John! Are you alright, It’s me!"

I remembered that feeling from earlier, right before the air grew heavy, the moment just before the comms cut out the first time.

My skin felt cold.

Too still.

Like something was nearby again.

The signal hadn’t come through because it got stronger.

It came through because the thing that had been blocking it had moved further away.

And now it was back.

"...Everyone stand up," I said, pushing off the crate.

Deng Hua flinched. "Huh? What—"

"Now."

Something was watching us again.

I could feel it breathing.

Somewhere, just beyond the shelves.

"It’s here!"

I didn’t hesitate.

"Liang Qiu. Zhou Xue. Take the others. Back to the atrium. Now."

"What?" Zhou Xue blinked. "Why—"

"Because it’s here."

I had already drawn my sword — the curved black blade glinting dully in the low light. The scabbard dropped to the floor behind me with a soft clatter.

They hadn’t felt it yet.

But I had.

A distortion in the air, like pressure dropping before a storm. Cold seeped into my fingers. My heartbeat slowed. Every instinct that once let me survive as something not human screamed at me to run.

Which meant I had to stay.

Deng Hua stepped forward. "We can fight—"

"No, you’ll die." I didn’t shout, but the edge in my voice stopped them.

I met Zhou Xue’s eyes. She understood. "Move."

The others started backing away. Liang Qiu helped pull Liang Mei to her feet. Chen Xun stayed frozen for a second longer, but Zhou Xue shoved him hard enough that he staggered.

They moved fast — disappeared behind the curtain of stacked boxes and dark shelving.

I took one breath.

And then it came.

Not through the front.

From above.

A shadow dropped behind me — silent, no sound of feet, no growl.

I turned just in time.

It was on all fours, crawling across the wall like some faceless ape. Long limbs bent backwards, the weight of its body pulled by unnatural joints. No mouth. No eyes. Just a pale, blank surface where a face should be.

White flesh.

Thin and stretched like wet leather over bone.

John’s messages called it a Ghoul.

Its head tilted the moment I faced it, slow and jerky, as if it was unsure I had value.

Then it lunged.

I stepped back just in time to catch the swipe against my blade. The shock of the blow ran up my wrist, but I didn’t fall.

It was stronger than anything I’d fought before. Its speed didn’t match its size — it twisted through the air, slammed into the floor, rolled upright, and came again without pause.

Another slash.

I turned, parried. Sparks jumped from the steel of my sword as the Ghoul’s claw skimmed the flat of the blade.

I saw my opening and stepped forward.

Slash—!

My blade sliced through the white skin, thick like leather, but it didn’t bleed, only hissed with a strange white goo.

Like steam escaping a vent.

The Ghoul recoiled. Not in pain — in confusion. Like the thing had expected no resistance.

I set my stance again, eyes narrowed.

"You’re not touching them."

Its body turned low, long arms dragging along the tiles, it was watching me now.

Me, not the others.

Whatever it was... it understood threats.

And I was the only one left.

The Ghoul moved again.

It didn’t run. It snapped forward like a whip of pale muscle, limbs coiling under itself before unfolding mid-air.

I ducked beneath the first strike, rolled along the crate’s edge, and slashed upward across its back. My blade met flesh — but didn’t dig deep. The tension of its skin was too dense, like cutting through a half-frozen slab of meat.

It didn’t cry out.

Didn’t even flinch.

It pivoted its entire body with one leg and swung both arms wide.

I blocked with the flat of my sword — the force of the impact threw me against the wall, my ribs screaming from the shock. My breath caught for a second, but I didn’t drop the weapon.

Endless Night thrummed in my grip — the weight of it familiar. Comforting.

The Ghoul’s faceless head turned to follow my movement like it wasn’t reading my body... but my soul.

Then it darted forward again, striking low this time.

I kicked a shelf unit into its path.

The metal frame cracked as the Ghoul tore through it, but the second of resistance gave me time to leap sideways, land hard, and draw a fresh breath.

I’d seen monsters. Killed them. Even been one, once.

But this was different.

This thing wasn’t just fast.

It was adapting.

The first few strikes had been wild. Testing.

Now they were precise. Reading distance, weight, and momentum. Not a beast.

A hunter.

It lunged again — I spun, ducked low, then came up under its ribs and slashed hard.

This time, the blade bit deeper. A slice opened across its midsection. White fluid splattered the tiles — thick, creamy, and steaming.

The Ghoul jerked back, hands splayed like a dancer bracing for balance.

I pressed the attack.

One step. Two.

Another cut.

A third.

It blocked the fourth, catching the flat of my blade with its wrist before twisting sideways and flipping over me.

I barely turned in time to stop the counter-blow — its forearm slammed into my side, knocking me across the tiles.

It hurt... it really hurt... so much I could taste the sweet iron in my throat flowing back.

The bastard almost made me vomit blood. Immense pain bloomed through my back. My teeth clenched as I gasped through it.

The Ghoul stood over me now.

Silent.

Observing.

I rose slowly, one knee braced against the floor, sword dragging beside me.

My hands trembled, but my stance didn’t break.

The monster crouched.

Limbs curled beneath it again.

Ready to strike.

I gritted my teeth.

"Come on, then," I whispered.

"Let’s finish this."