Apocalypse King: Recruiting S-Tier Beauties With My Ruler System
Chapter 47: The Confrontation of Women

Chapter 47: The Confrontation of Women

*** Jiang Roulan ***

John left.

His sudden transformation shocked me. I couldn’t even stand straight. My legs weakened beneath me—my back leaned against the cold stone pillar like it was the only thing holding me upright.

His sharp gaze was like a dagger that pierced through my facade. No longer the boy who joked or smiled with uncertainty.

He looked at me like a man—with no doubt in his stride, no filter in his eyes.

A lone wolf ready to take what he wanted.

I should’ve followed him. I should’ve run after that shadow as he walked away.

But something... something stopped me.

The wind rattled the windows, dark clouds rolling in over the crumbling city like a warning. Like fate trying to say Don’t stay still.

Mu Qinglan appeared in the corner of my vision. Her stare? Sharp. Territorial. Like a lioness spotting a threat near her den.

That eerie red glow flickering in her eyes made my skin crawl.

"Got a problem?"

She didn’t answer.

Instead, her eyes drifted back toward the door—toward John.

"John won’t choose you. He can’t choose you," she muttered, her voice cold but tight.

Her eyes nervously flicked between the door, where John had left and my face.

"Are you jealous, because he needs me, Mu Qinglan?"

She trembled. Could’ve been rage. Could’ve been fear.

But me? I felt irritated. Angry that John was softer with her. Protective.

Yeah, I was jealous.

Even if I didn’t love him, I wanted his attention. He was the only man I could rely on. Strong, clever, and too damn honest. The kind of man every woman in this hell would look at twice.

I placed my hand against the cold stone, my gut tightening.

Why did I always taunt him instead of stepping closer? Was I scared? Maybe I thought he’d choose her—and that if I didn’t try, I couldn’t lose.

"..." Qinglan bit her lips and looked like she wanted to throw something. But she didn’t.

She turned, and her eyes changed.

Not red.

Blue.

John didn’t need to tell me what that meant. The mood swings, her cold body, the times she disappeared for hours with no excuse...

The blue-eyed Mu Qinglan was different.

More dangerous.

"I wasn’t myself," she blurted, her voice calm. Too calm. Like an executive about to fire you after congratulating your performance.

"I’m jealous. Of you... and the way he looks at you."

She climbed from the sofa. Her face was pretty, even to another woman like an ice sculpture. I hated that delicate and blemish-free face of hers.

She rose from the couch—graceful, distant, pretty in that icy, untouched way that made me want to claw that porcelain face apart.

"Didn’t think you’d admit that," I said.

"Why not?"

"You’ve never told him."

She paused. "You’re not him. But I plan to."

We stood there like two predators, sizing each other up. Same goal. Different methods. One of us was going to lose.

"What if he rejects you?" I asked.

Petty. I already knew the answer.

"He won’t." Her voice didn’t waver. "But even if he does... I wont give up."

Mu Qinglan gazed at me in silence.

A woman of few words, but those words carried her intention and desires.

"It doesn’t matter... but," she grasped her metal bat while taking a deep breath. "Do you also like John?"

"What?" I blinked, surprised.

I didn’t know how to answer. He was hot. Smart. And if he pushed a little more, I’d sleep with him.

But like? Love?

Those words were still poison, at least. It didn’t make me feel nauseous with him.

"I see. Then stop trying to get involved."

Her voice sharpened. A warning. No, a challenge. If I kept getting closer, she wouldn’t just stand back. She’d fight me.

And the scary part?

I wasn’t even sure I wanted to fight back.

Because trusting anyone felt too fucking hard. Since my teens, people have only wanted me for something. My name. My money. My connections. And when I didn’t give it to them, they bailed.

Even the best-looking man alive couldn’t fix that damage.

John wouldn’t fix that, but... that wasn’t to say he couldn’t.

"I have no plans for that," I muttered, "but if he wants me... I won’t stop him."

Yeah, I kept approaching him.

Even when I knew I shouldn’t like a moth to the flame, my body wanted him, and maybe deep down I was attracted to him as someone completely different to me.

No wonder something felt off. I kept walking toward the edge without checking the fall.

Mu Qinglan studied me in silence and then turned away.

"Was it John being naive... or you?" she asked, and her footsteps echoed away, leaving me in the hollow apartment.

The words stayed behind.

Maybe both.

I sank into the cold stone pillar again, memories swarming. My family. My past. The things I ran from. The things that still chase me.

My parents tried to marry me off at fifteen to a government dog ten years older. I ran. Became a cop. Thought that would give me a clean start.

It didn’t.

It just made it easier for people to try to manipulate me.

Men came with fake smiles and expensive gifts. They wanted the idea of me—not the real me.

So, I learned to push people away before they could ask for anything.

Then, John happened.

He didn’t hide why he liked me. He didn’t pretend to be noble or smooth. Just a horny, socially awkward guy who thought I was his type.

...Not that I can blame him. He’s also mine.

I ran a hand down my abdomen, feeling the lines of muscle, the dip of my hips.

"So stupid..." I muttered.

The dark clouds drifted closer to the city. As the winds blew and thunder rumbled through the sky.

It seemed to resemble the turmoil in my chest.

And yet...

Something shifted when he looked at me earlier. That promise in his eyes. That hunger and softness all mixed together.

Because of my words, he faced me with that look.

He wasn’t playing pretend.

He wanted all of me.

And for the first time in my life, I wanted to give it.

To tame me.

To control me.

Many have tried to do so in the past.

But for the first time...

I met a man who didn’t ask me to stop being myself—he wanted everything.

I found myself wanting to be tamed.

Even if I wouldn’t go down without a fight.

***

I didn’t chase after Qinglan.

That wasn’t my style—and it never had been.

Still, my feet didn’t want to stay still. My chest wouldn’t stop aching.

Instead, I made my way to the far corner of the fifth floor—the rusted old room with the cracked tiles and a broken light. The training space. My fallback after a bad day at work or when emotions ran too loud.

My tonfa hung on the hooks, exactly where I’d left them.

I grabbed my tonfa from the wall—cold, familiar steel. The grips worn smooth from years of use. No frills. No tricks. Just something solid to hold on to when everything else felt like smoke.

Breath steady. Steps deliberate. Not fighting—just... preparing. Body and mind.

I spun one tonfa low, the other angled for a gut strike, driving them both into the padded post.

Thud.

But my head wasn’t in it.

I could still feel his gaze. That strange heat in his eyes. The way he looked at me after everything I said—a hungry and passionate gaze.

And I liked it.

My grip tightened. Muscles flexed. I pivoted and slammed both tonfa into the padded dummy until the stuffing split open.

Again.

Again.

Again.

My grip tightened as I pulled back and dropped into a lower stance.

I wasn’t in love.

"Ngh... it hurts." I groaned, rubbing my wrist.

I stopped while panting for air. My palms were stinging from the vibrations running up the tonfa.

My reflection stared back at me through that broken mirror. Scattered. Shaken. A little more honest than before.

"I might like him," I muttered.

Just saying it out loud made my chest tighten, but my shoulders became loose and relaxed.

No one had ever made me feel this way before... he slipped through my guard.

I didn’t want to fall or become vulnerable.

Yet it didn’t feel like a weakness.

And maybe...

Maybe that was enough for now.