Apocalypse King: Recruiting S-Tier Beauties With My Ruler System
Chapter 65: Leaving Home

Chapter 65: Leaving Home

March 17th, 2025 — 11:10 AM

Zone 2A-Δ – John Wang’s Apartment

—

Mu Qinglan sat on the last remaining sofa while watching me with curious, gleaming eyes. After our long soak in the bath and telling her about a few system features, she stopped being anxious.

"So, you can make these things vanish?" she pouted while patting the sofa twice. "I don’t believe you!"

Well, I wouldn’t believe myself either.

But it seemed she just wanted to goad me into it.

Since there were things to do today, I just snapped my fingers pretending it was some kind of magic and used [Dismantle] on the second sofa and most of the kitchen cabinets.

▼ Dismantled 40 items

+50 Metal

+20 Glass

+25 WOOD

+20 CLOTH

+15 PLASTIC

The various cups, empty bottles of alcohol and tables vanished.

Qinglan’s mouth dropped as the plates and cutlery all disappeared in a flash of blue particles.

For some reason, items not created by the system lacked the same freedom when upgrading or adding modifications to things that I made.

"W-wow. You were telling the truth?" Mu Qinglan looked at me with glowing eyes and a childish smile. "It’s like magic, how interesting."

"Remember, you can’t tell anyone."

Although I trusted her, this was something that could easily slip out during conversation with others, especially when getting to know them.

"Who a I going to speak to or tell... a zombie?"

Mu Qinglan kept poking the space where the sofa had vanished, brows furrowed, as if the thing might flicker back into existence if she stared hard enough.

"I didn’t expect it to actually disappear," she muttered, crouching to touch the clean floor. "I thought maybe... you’d just toss it into some hidden storage."

"I could’ve," I said, opening the menu. "But I needed the materials more than the furniture."

She stood slowly, brushing her damp hair back, eyes scanning the rest of the room with newfound suspicion. "So you could make this entire place vanish if you wanted?"

"Not all of it. Only what I marked or own." I shut the interface and stretched my arms. "And don’t give me that look. You just got upgraded to ’do not dismantle.’"

Her lips curved into a smirk. "I will consider it an honour."

Although Qinglan didn’t mention it explicitly, her mood had shifted. Softer now. More playful than she’d been since earlier. Though she told me that if it happened, I had to do whatever I did to them double... in a joking voice, her eyes weren’t laughing.

A truly strange woman.

That weird tension between us—the guilt, the bruised pride, the doubts—all of it simmered below the surface, but it wasn’t boiling anymore.

We had things to do.

"Come on," I said, walking past her toward the door. "We’re heading back to Roulan’s apartment. I want to check on them."

Qinglan followed, arms crossed behind her back. "You sure that’s all you want to check on?"

"No I obviously want to fuck them." I scoffed in a low voice towards her, watching her eyes widen in shock, her lips parting with a slight tremble. "Don’t be stupid, Lan’er."

Her expression cracked.

Not from anger. Not even from annoyance.

But something else.

A strange flutter of something behind her eyes—like she hadn’t expected the crude joke, or the name that followed it.

"...Lan’er?"

She echoed it quietly, the word catching in her throat like it wasn’t built for her voice.

Then came the colour, spreading fast. Qinglan’s cheeks flushed pink. Then red. Her posture stiffened as if her bones had suddenly remembered how to stand perfectly upright. She turned her face away, brushing her hair behind her ear in a mechanical motion.

"D-Don’t call me that." Qinglan hissed like an alley cat. "That’s... that’s too... familiar."

But her voice lacked bite.

And she didn’t move away.

I stepped closer and brought my face closer, squinting my eyes with a half-smile. "You don’t like it?"

Her lips parted. Closed again.

Then her chin dipped, and I saw it—a flicker of a smile.

"Stupid."

That was all she said before brushing past me toward the stairwell, her ears still red and visible from behind her damp hair. Her steps were quick, precise, like a soldier, as if her body wanted to outrun the embarrassment she didn’t know how to carry.

’So she does like it...’

I followed after her, slowly taking care of my steps, while noticing her unbolting the bomb resistant door, and looked back. "Bleh!" She pulled out her tongue and skipped down the stairs... it was a strange and unfamiliar Qinglan.

"Lan’er, wait for me!" I called out. Moments like this made it feel like the world wasn’t dying.

"Shush!"

"Then, should I call you Lanlan?"

Her eyes glared back at me. "Do you want to die?"

"Hahaha..."

Qing’er dashed away from me. Her feet tapped the ground with each long stride, but she seemed cuter than I ever expected.

When I reached the bottom floor, the doors and apartments looked ransacked and filled with damage, different from the first day... corpses littering them as I gazed inside.

I made the right choice.

At least that’s what I whispered in my mind. Old Lei’s misery replaying in my head...

She waited near the entrance door with her arms crossed and her eyes on the floor tiles.

Not speaking.

But not leaving without me.

—

March 17th, 20xx — 12:15 PM

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

—

+100 ZKP

+200 XP

There were a few zombies on the way home, but Qinglan wasn’t happy with me teasing her. She killed them with her bat and refused to sneak past them.

The moment we reached the safe zone, a sense of calm and peace washed over me like a wave of cool water in the summer.

The stairwell was quiet. No wind, no groans from the infected, not even the usual creak of warped metal steps.

Mu Qinglan stayed a step ahead of me, one hand trailing along the rusted railing. Her movements were light, efficient, but I caught her glancing back every few flights—never saying anything, just checking.

When we hit the fifth-floor landing, she slowed.

The door to Jiang Roulan’s apartment was slightly ajar.

Not broken. Not forced.

Just... open.

I stepped forward, one hand brushing her shoulder to ease her behind me. However, she snorted and bit my hand, before sucking the skin, wetting it with her tongue as she glanced up at me.

Qing’er released me with a wet pop, causing my hand to throb with a red mark.

I peeked inside, and there wasn’t anyone there, only the open blinds and a table set for four people. "Let’s go in." Qinglan’s body trembled from my whisper, but she nodded, taking my hand and pulling me inside like a naughty child.

A sound of sizzling came from the Kitchen, and I felt a sense of deja vu, the scent of bacon, mustard and sausages cooking in an oiled pan. "Roulan is cooking."

"Heh... Roulan?" A jealous girlfriend huffed.

"Stop acting jealous, or I’ll spank you."

I didn’t want to be passive all the time, since I apologised. Why couldn’t I speak up for myself?

"Hmmm? Really, do you want to try?"

Pah!

Her face dropped, mouth opening wide as my hand squeezed... it was a great feeling.

I am going to hell one day, but at least I can enjoy moments like this.

Pitter-patter.

That’s when Roulan walked inside wearing slippers with bunny rabbits on the front. She wore one of the black t-shirts I made for myself, and it hung just past her thighs... it was erotic!

She held a pair of mugs in her hands, and when she saw me and Qinglan, her eyes flicked to our joined hands, and her lips curled into a bitter smile. "I’ve almost finished dinner, though I didn’t know if you’d come back in time." Her voice wasn’t teasing. It wasn’t dry. Just neutral—like someone who hadn’t quite decided how to feel yet.

"How did you know we would come at all?" Mu Qinglan asked with a sharp tone.

"Because John wanted to meet the other members of this apartment and see if he could trust them?"

The clash of the two beauties started, while I looked into the back room and saw Yifei curled on a couch under the thick blanket I had made for her earlier. Only her face was visible—cheeks flushed, lashes blinking as she pretended to still be asleep.

Qinglan seemed angry because her cold gaze scanned the room like a knife across glass.

Maybe I’ll build things upstairs...

"John, where are you going." Qinglan’s voice sounded from behind as I tried to pull away.

"Ah..." Well, I guess not.

Women are a little too dramatic.

I wonder where Yin went...

Yin, your master is lonely.

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