Apocalypse King: Recruiting S-Tier Beauties With My Ruler System
Chapter 63: After the Fire

Chapter 63: After the Fire

March 17th, 20xx — 07:35 AM

Zone 3A-Δ – Base: Jiang Roulan’s apartment

—

I heard the soft click of the bathroom door before I saw her.

The regret from not sleeping with this fiery woman lingered, but at the same time, I felt a sense of pride that I could resist and manage the fire myself.

Shen Yifei stepped out barefoot, steam curling behind her. Her towel, tossed carelessly over her shoulder, the edges clung to her damp thighs. Her cheeks were red, hair a damp golden colour sticking to her body in a lazy curl.

She paused when she saw me.

I was sitting on the edge of the sofa, still bare-chested, Qi slowly settling after the hell I’d just endured.

Her eyes widened.

"Y-You’re still here?" she asked, voice hoarse with sleep and something else.

"Where else would I be?" I replied quietly.

She glanced away, fingers tightening around the towel. Her shoulders shifted.

"Pervert..." she muttered.

I didn’t answer that, because I didn’t have a a good one.

She took a few stiff steps toward the kitchen before freezing. Her fingers brushed her lower lip, slowly, as if remembering something. Then her eyes snapped to me.

"You—!" Her voice cracked. "Did you... Kiss me?"

I met her gaze.

"You weren’t breathing properly"

"You would’ve died."

A pause.

Her expression flickered—anger, confusion, something deeper.

"...Hmph." She turned her back, arms crossed tightly beneath the towel. "That doesn’t mean you had to enjoy it."

I almost smiled. "Did I say I did?"

"You didn’t have to moan, you idiot!"

"...I didn’t moan."

"You did."

She turned just enough to glare at me, eyes narrow and pink at the corners. But her breathing was still uneven, and I could see the faint shimmer of Qi still crawling along her collarbone, pulsing under her skin.

’She’s still reacting... Her body hasn’t stabilised yet.’

She looked like she was about to throw something else at me. Instead, she swayed slightly—like the floor tilted under her.

I was beside her before I could think.

My hand caught her waist.

She jolted. Her breath hitched.

I felt her warmth through the towel. Her heartbeat under my palm.

"Careful," I said.

"I’m... fine," she mumbled. But her legs didn’t move.

"You’re not."

"...Tch. Just help me sit."

We made it back to the couch. I guided her down slowly, and she slumped into the corner, arms crossed tight, chin tucked into her shoulder. But she didn’t move away.

She didn’t tell me to let go, either.

She leaned.

Just a little.

Her temple touched my shoulder. Her breath warmed my collarbone.

"Don’t get the wrong idea..." she whispered.

"I won’t."

A long pause.

"...But your scent is kind of... calming."

I didn’t respond to that.

Not out loud.

But I felt it, too—her Qi, no longer violent, curling gently through the room like firelight flickering in an old hearth. It almost felt like I had tamed a violent and naughty kitten... compared to the wild tiger that faced me in the bathroom.

She didn’t say anything else.

Five minutes passed. Ten.

Then I heard her breathing shift. Slower. Deeper.

She’d fallen asleep.

I stood quietly, adjusted her legs, and let her rest against the armrest. Her towel had slipped a little again, exposing the edge of one pale thigh and the slight curve of her waist. I summoned the system with a flick of my thoughts.

[Item Created]

[Thermal Blend Fibre Blanket | Category: Comfort | Grade: C-]

[Materials Used: Cloth 60, Metal 30]

[Item Created.]

A thick grey blanket shimmered into existence.

I wrapped her body, rolling her soft curves, although a little modest, her breasts were the fluffiest of the three women... and perky. She muttered in her sleep and gripped my wrist, but I had to go.

Using the system, I created some simple clothes for her to change into: a white tank top, a B-cup bra, and soft black sweats and left them neatly folded on the counter.

She’d be warm when she woke.

Finally, I stood.

And sighed.

’I told Qinglan I’d come back.’

I looked down at Yifei one last time.

She looked peaceful. Small.

Not the angry blade-swinging girl I’d met days ago.

I pulled my jacket on. Boots next.

Slung my SMG across my back and glanced toward the door.

Time to go home.

Time to face her.

Mu Qinglan.

—

March 17th, 20xx — 08:03 AM

Zone 2A-Δ — John Wang’s Apartment Block

—

The air was colder than I expected.

Not biting. Just... still.

The kind of morning quiet that reminded you the world had ended—no traffic, no voices, no early risers out for breakfast. Just broken streetlamps, smashed concrete, and frost crusting the edge of a billboard half-hanging from its bolts.

I walked slowly. Not because I was tired.

Because I didn’t want to think too fast.

My boots crunched softly over the frostbitten steps. The SMG on my back weighed less than the thoughts dragging behind my eyes.

I’d told her I’d come back.

Mu Qinglan.

And now I was. But not clean.

Not guilty, either.

Just... messy.

My hand brushed against the cold railing as I climbed the wall beside my apartment, still warm from Shen Yifei’s skin and Jiang Roulan’s touch. I could smell their sweet scents... one fiery, the other earthen and calm. Their body heat still lingered against mine.

With the scent of salt, jasmine and cinnamon making me feel shameful.

’I didn’t plan any of it.’

But that didn’t matter.

Qinglan trusted me.

And I’d held someone else in my arms just hours after promising she was the only one.

No lies would fix that.

I’d tell her the truth.

About Roulan. About Yifei. About the potion. About the kisses that weren’t really kisses, and the hands that didn’t pull away.

And I’d admit it.

That I hadn’t hated it.

Hadn’t even wanted to stop, in that moment.

If it happened again...?

’I probably wouldn’t resist.’

My jaw tightened.

Not because I was ashamed of wanting them.

But because I didn’t want to hurt her.

She’d kissed me first. She’d whispered my name like it meant something.

And now I had to walk through that door and see the disappointment in her eyes. The coldness she only used when trying not to feel anything at all.

And still—I wouldn’t lie.

She deserved better than that.

Even if it costs me everything.

I landed on the steel awning hard enough to rattle the bolts.

The metal groaned under my boots, slick with frost. I caught the window ledge and slipped inside, feet scraping against the wooden floor with a dull thud.

The cold followed me in.

I stood for a second, catching my breath, muscles still twitching from the walk. From the weight of it all. The ache hadn’t left my spine—not fully. My palms were raw. Qi still simmered under the skin, refusing to settle.

Then I felt her.

Small hands wrapped around my back.

Cool arms pressed to my ribs.

"...You’re back," she whispered.

Her voice was quiet, but steady. She didn’t let go.

I froze—then let myself breathe.

"Yeah," I spoke with a much softer tone, wanting to comfort her. "I’m back."

She pulled back slightly, just enough to tilt her face up.

Blue eyes scanned me like she already knew the answer, but still needed to ask.

"...Are you okay?"

I hesitated.

Her fingers tightened, just a little, before she spoke again.

"I saw your wounds... this morning. In the call. They weren’t healed."

I nodded once. "I feel much better now."

Mu Qinglan pressed her forehead into my chest, her hands snaking around my body as she lifted the cheap shirt I made at Roulan’s house.

"There’s a scar... and what... what is this!?" She touched my chest and rubbed her fingers over the swollen black marking.

At first it looked like a growth or wound, but now... it was more of a spade shape, like the playing cards and looked quite cool.

Mu Qinglan’s fingers lingered on my chest, still tracing the faint, spade-shaped mark. She stared at it like it might move or whisper something back.

"You like it?" I asked, teasing.

"Hmph." She didn’t look up. "It’s weird. But... kind of hot."

I smirked. "So you are checking me out."

"I mean," she muttered, "it suits... my man."

The words dropped before she could catch them, and I watched her freeze. Her lips pressed tight, her entire face turning an unmistakable shade of red as she yanked her hand back like I’d burned her.

"I-I didn’t mean that!!! Shut up! Don’t laugh!"

I laughed, low and warm in my throat. "Too late. I like how that sounds."

She shoved my shoulder with both hands, still refusing to look at me. "You’re the worst."

"I know."

I reached down, caught her hand, and held it.

She finally glanced at me again.

"...Qinglan," I said quietly. "I need to tell you something."