Apocalypse King: Recruiting S-Tier Beauties With My Ruler System
Chapter 164: In the Dark

Chapter 164: In the Dark

March 21st, 9:12 AM — Sub-Basement Storage Hall

John Wang POV

——

The Ghoul came again—silent and fast.

Its feet didn’t slam the floor like a brute. They skimmed it. Its body moved like liquid muscle—shoulders low, head tilted forward, arms spread like hooks about to close.

"Watch the left!" I called out.

It swerved, just as Tang Wei fired another round. The slug whistled past its ribs and shattered a support beam. Dust fell, and sparks jumped from the impact point.

I met it mid-lunge.

Both gauntlets fired simultaneously as my fists hammered its chest and abdomen with a double punch.

Point-blank slugs—two straight to the chest.

They burst with a loud pop, tearing meat, breaking bones, causing the beast to reel. But not like it was in pain. More like it had lost its balance, or misjudged my position.

"Xue—now!"

Zhou Xue lost her shot.

One arrow, black-fletched and heavy, slammed directly into the Ghoul’s thigh joint. It punctured the white flesh, piercing the meat, but the beast didn’t fall.

It crouched low and rotated with inhuman grace—its back leg twisting beneath it, heel sliding around like it had no kneecap. A spine along its back shot out suddenly, twitching.

Not projectile. Just a feint.

Enough to distract.

Roulan almost stepped forward, but caught herself in time as the Ghoul flicked one of its arms, sharp fingers slicing the air. They passed inches from her chest.

"Don’t rush it!" I barked. "It’s trying to split us!"

Mu Qinglan circled to the right, eyes sharp, breathing steady. She was waiting, not striking until the opening came. Her grip on Endless Night was light, like the weapon floated.

Tang Wei reloaded again, fast, sliding a fresh shell into the chamber.

Shen Yifei was back on her feet, breathing through her nose, blood trailing down one temple.

"Urk..." Blood dribbled from her soft lips as she pushed herself up, eyes flickering with a blue light, as the tip of her spear hummed with heat.

She didn’t wait for permission.

Yifei darted in again, her spear glinting with the tip pointed to the floor, each step masterful and filled with power and agility.

The Ghoul snapped to intercept her.

But that’s what I’d waited for.

Crushing Moon roared as I rushed at it, hammering it with a four-punch burst, each time my muscles screamed, back tight, legs locked as my blows caused its meat to tenderise, then with the last punch I released another burst of buckshot.

The shot hit it just above the spine, and meat exploded.

The creature shrieked—not with its mouth, but that long vertical wound down its chest, which pulsed like a screaming throat.

The noise was awful.

Like metal screaming underwater.

We all flinched.

It spun again, bleeding now. Staggering. But not down.

Not yet.

Tang Wei whispered through clenched teeth. "What the fuck does it take to kill this thing?"

I adjusted my stance.

"We..."

"Since it bleeds, we make it bleed more!" Shen Yifei’s back leaned against mine, hot and sweaty... her scent thick, but the blood causing me to worry.

The Ghoul backed away, moving in a small arc around us, while limping slightly, its body hunched, that vertical maw twitching open and shut like a broken muscle reflex.

But it wasn’t panicking.

It was watching.

Analysing

Its posture was no longer wild. It adjusted its stance, feet planted wider, arms lowered. It understood we were dangerous now.

That was the part that chilled me.

Not that it was fast.

Not that it was tough.

But how fast it was learning.

"Stay loose. Don’t give it a chance to attack two people!"

Zhou Xue shifted position in the back of the room, moving right, and keeping her bow drawn while low and out vision low. I noticed the moment her eyes narrowed, with sweat trailing from her jawline. She shot another arrow.

"Qinglan," I said. "Right side. If it attacks Zhou Xue, cut it."

"Of course."

Yifei moved opposite her, silent. Her spear glinted faintly from the blood coating its shaft. Tang Wei and Roulan held the centre with me—shotgun and Type-9k trained.

The Ghoul moved again, and as I thought. It rushed toward the far wall. A rapid dash towards the right, constantly circling as if to keep everyone on their toes.

The five of us rotated to keep up. It was testing our formation.

Then it lunged straight for Zhou Xue.

I fired again.

Slugs cracked through the air.

The first clipped its side, the second slammed into its knee, and the aftershock and impact spun it midair.

Zhou stepped back, drawing her bow tight.

The Ghoul twisted in the air and threw something—one of its spines.

The bone spear cut the air like a javelin.

Zhou ducked too slow.

The spine grazed her temple and embedded itself into the concrete wall behind her.

She collapsed.

"Zhou—!"

Roulan darted toward her, unloading suppressing fire.

The Ghoul slammed into the floor, rolled, and vanished behind a toppled shelf. Gunfire sparked along the crates as it moved.

Tang Wei dropped to one knee and fired two more shots into the shadows.

Chunks of meat sprayed—but the Ghoul kept shifting, crawling now, vanishing between storage units like a snake.

Mu Qinglan rushed to Zhou’s side. Blood stained her hairline, but her eyes were open, blinking, dazed.

"She’s alive," Qinglan said. "But out for now."

"Yifei," I called. "Flank left. I’ll draw it."

I cracked my neck once, raised my gauntlets, and stepped into the aisle.

"Come on," I muttered.

I could feel it breathing in the dark.

Close.

Waiting.

Smarter now.

I moved fast, without hesitation.

Blades out.

The inner edges of Crushing Moon hissed free, each one sliding from my forearms with a mechanical click-thunk, their obsidian curves pulsing faintly with stored earth Qi. Reinforced and ready to brawl.

The Ghoul came out of hiding the moment I stepped clear of the shelves.

It didn’t pounce.

It walked.

Not slowly. Not clumsy.

Just... like a man.

Its arms hung low, spines twitching behind its back like coiled whips. Its head tilted slightly as it sized me up.

And then it charged.

I met it halfway.

Our bodies collided with the sound of wet meat hitting stone. My left blade caught its shoulder deep enough to slice a tendon—but it didn’t stop. Its claw raked my ribs, cutting through the side of my coat.

As if something exploded inside my stomach, a burning sensation spread through my abdomen.

I pivoted on instinct, driving my knee up into its gut and slamming both gauntlets into its chest.

Bang-bang!

Twin slugs fired point-blank from the chambers beneath my wrists.

The impact cracked bone, and the monster staggered, but using its back legs to dig into the ground, it remained still. I followed through, spinning my right arm and burying the blade through its upper bicep.

It screamed.

Not through its throat.

Through that vertical maw—an echoing, wet howl that made my vision blur for half a second.

Behind me, Roulan opened fire, controlled bursts. Bullets tore through its legs as it reeled.

Yifei came in low from the right, her spear jabbing under its ribs and yanking back just as fast. Qinglan cut the other side—a rising slash that opened a diagonal wound from hip to shoulder.

Tang Wei fired again.

A slug shattered part of the creature’s left hand as it tried to swipe at me.

I slammed my elbow down into its collarbone.

Crack.

The bone gave way.

The Ghoul dropped to one knee, wheezing through that split chest like a bellows full of acid.

I pressed my foot to its sternum and drove it back.

The impact threw it across the floor—it skidded, crashed into a metal shelf, and collapsed in a heap.

It twitched.

Then rose again.

Slower now.

Parts of it hung wrong.

It wasn’t healing like before.

Its breath rasped. Its movements were no longer fluid.

But its eyes—or whatever watched us through that faceless skull—were still focused.

Still hungry.

Still planning.

"It’s wearing down," Tang Wei said behind me. "Thank fuck for that..."

The Ghoul didn’t move.

It crouched low again, arms spread, claws flexing across the blood-slick floor. Its mouth twitched—less like a wound now, more like something learning to shape itself into an expression.

Not fear.

Not rage.

Something else.

A long, slow exhale escaped from its ribs. Wet. Laboured.

Then it smiled.

Not with a face, but with posture and its stillness.

As if it knew something we didn’t.

The lights overhead flickered again. A few sparks fell. The air grew denser. Not from heat, but presence—like something old and patient had finally decided to wake up.

Mu Qinglan stepped closer to me, blade still at the ready.

"Why is it smiling?" she asked.

I didn’t answer.

Because deep down, I already knew.

It wasn’t finished.

Not yet.