Apocalypse King: Recruiting S-Tier Beauties With My Ruler System
Chapter 180: Moonlit Butcher

Chapter 180: Moonlit Butcher

March 23rd, 6:30 PM — Women’s Holding Block, Gu Tianhao’s Compound

Jiang Roulan POV

——

The sky outside dimmed, though inside our cell block, it was always the same—humid, cracked walls, stale air, and the stink of fear.

But tonight, the air was different.

Something was coming.

I didn’t know how. But I felt it.

"Now," I whispered.

Tang Wei gave a small nod and rose from her mattress. She moved like a shadow, her body still aching from the work yesterday, but her eyes sharp. Liang Mei and Zhou Xue followed, their silence tense. We’d practised this. Again and again in whispers and gestures until the timing felt second nature.

Liang Qiu lingered near the back, nervous. But she didn’t speak.

I adjusted the dirty cloth shirt they gave me—it still clung too tight to my hips—and walked toward the barred door.

The female guard sat outside, half-dozing, a radio lazily looped on her belt and a sidearm at her hip. Same one as last night. The same one who kept licking her lips when looking at the younger girls.

"Help," I said, my voice weak, trembling.

The woman glanced up, annoyed.

"What?"

"I think I’m bleeding. It’s... that time of the month."

"Seriously?" she muttered, grabbing the keys and approaching.

I didn’t blink.

The moment the bolt turned, Tang Wei shot forward with no hesitation. Her palm crashed into the guard’s face. Blood sprayed. Zhou Xue caught the radio and tossed it into the far corner before it could squawk.

We dragged her inside.

No sound.

Just precision.

Liang Mei tied her hands with the woman’s belt while I stole her pistol. Tang Wei pulled on the jacket. It didn’t fit perfectly, but from a distance, it would do.

"Doors next," I hissed.

There were only two guards on this side. If we moved fast...

I didn’t know if John was still alive.

But I knew this was our chance to act.

And I refused to let it slip.

We moved through the hall like a ripple—silent, tense, bodies taut. Tang Wei walked ahead, wearing the stolen jacket with her chin dipped low. Liang Mei carried the empty mop bucket she’d stolen to look like a cleaning girl. Zhou Xue clung to the back with Liang Qiu close behind.

I kept to the middle. One hand in my waistband, fingers wrapped around the pistol.

The corridor was wide and had many windows that let in dim orange light from the courtyard. A few guards passed by, but none paid us more than a glance.

Until one did.

He was tall. Too tall.

His gaze landed on me, and his brows furrowed before he stopped.

"Hey!"

He stopped walking and seemed to doubt me before he grunted. "I don’t know you."

Tang Wei kept walking, but I stepped forward.

"She’s new," I said, voice flat. "Shift change."

He frowned.

Too late.

The butt of my pistol slammed into his jaw before he could reach for his comms. His body dropped like dead weight. Tang Wei caught him and dragged him behind the open door of an unused storage room.

Liang Mei kicked it shut with her heel.

"What now?" Zhou Xue whispered.

"There’s a side stairwell," Liang Qiu said quickly. "It leads up to the third floor of the main house. If she’s locked somewhere... that’s where she’ll be."

She was right. That mansion had been where Mu Qinglan was taken.

And John?

Underground, they said.

Beneath that same building.

"Then we split," I said. "I’ll go for Mu Qinglan. Tang Wei, you lead the rest to find John. If he’s alive, bring him up. If he’s not..."

I swallowed.

"Bring him back anyway."

Tang Wei didn’t argue. She just nodded and passed me the jacket.

I took it.

And we moved.

Although I wanted to find John, it would be best if I met up with Qinglan first... So I offered to go alone and sent Shen Yifei with the other group. She looked more focused as she followed Tang Wei in silence.

’I hope that seeing John will help her...’

——

The stairwell reeked of mildew and gunpowder.

Dim emergency lights blinked at intervals, half of them broken. My bare feet slapped softly against the cracked stone steps, each movement precise, measured, and silent. The air was thick with dust, and every breath scratched my lungs.

The air grew colder as I climbed. Each floor I passed, the temperature dipped. Or maybe it was in my head.

My fingers curled tighter around the pistol. The jacket Tang Wei gave me stuck to my skin with sweat, but I couldn’t feel the heat. Only the pressure was building in my chest.

There was something strange here...

Though the second floor looked no different to the other floors, the same carpets and decor, but... the stench and eerie darkness weren’t the same. The silence wasn’t clean. It was the kind of silence you would see in a horror movie... right before the monsters came out.

I stepped forward and tried to track everything.

No sign of guards. No footsteps. Just a broken vase on the floor near the far wall and the smeared drag of what looked like blood.

Fresh.

I moved faster.

Near the stairwell up to the third floor, I paused.

The door was ajar. A single trail of red ran up the last steps, dotted and streaked.

Blood. And not a little.

My breath hitched.

I remembered then dragging Mu Qinglan away, unconscious, arms limp, rage on her face even as they knocked her out.

And now this?

Had they done something to her?

No.

That’s not what this looked like.

This stain couldn’t be from someone’s torture.

This mark was someone fighting back.

I touched the edge of the wall and crept up two more steps. More blood. Thicker now. A small spray on the wall. A boot print. Part of a glove, fingers still inside, twitching.

My stomach twisted.

My mind raced.

All this stress just to save my love rival... it made me nervous and part of me wanted to give up and leave... but I couldn’t.

The smell hit first.

It wasn’t just blood. It was metal and bile and the sickly stench of burst intestines. I swallowed hard, tasting it on my tongue.

I gripped the wall, heart pounding.

Each step toward the third-floor landing felt heavier than the last. Not from fear, but from some invisible pressure in the air. Like the weight of violence still lingered, clinging to every inch of stone and wood.

Then I saw it.

The hallway beyond the stairwell entrance... wasn’t a hallway anymore.

It was a massacre.

Blood soaked the floor like rainwater after a flood, thick and black under the weak flicker of hallway lights. Torn limbs—arms, a leg, a jaw—were scattered in pieces. One torso hung from a shattered lamp thrown hard enough to break metal.

The walls had deep gouges in them. Finger marks. Scratches.

Like someone had tried to crawl away.

But there was no sign of Mu Qinglan.

Not yet.

My breath grew shallow. I stepped slowly into the carnage, the wet squelch of blood underfoot making me want to gag. I kept the pistol raised, just in case.

That’s when I saw her.

Saw Mu Qinglan

She stood at the far end of the hallway like a moonlight goddess, standing under the cracked balcony window. The glass shattered, moonlight pouring inside, bathing her in the argent glow.

Mu Qinglan stood still. Silent.

Her huge blade rested loosely over her right shoulder, the blade dripping with fresh blood, with long hair stuck to her shoulders and back, soaked. A thick trail of blood ran down her thigh. Her other hand twitched slightly at her side.

And her eyes—

Her eyes glowed red.

Not bright. Not demonic. Just a faint, eerie pulse. Almost like the afterimage of a fire smouldering behind Qinglan’s pupils.

She hadn’t noticed me yet.

She just stood there, gazing out the window like the night could explain everything.

And for the first time since this hell began...

I wasn’t sure if I was looking at another human or my rival anymore...

Snap!

Qinglan’s head turned to me.

Her gaze was fierce and filled with pressure, like a beast watching her prey, but she didn’t move, only swaying slightly... with a dazed look in her eyes.

"Jiang.... Roulan?"

A soft, yet devilish voice.

I didn’t respond.

But she didn’t seem to care and tilted her head, the blood dripped from her lips as she spoke again.

"Where is John?"

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