The Volvo roared back to life, speeding down the ruined highway toward the safety of their neighborhood.
When they arrived, the girls from the compound rushed out. Their beauty stood out even in the moonlight—faces delicate, hair flowing, clothes clinging to them after long days of survival. Yet their eyes, wide and shimmering, were full of disbelief.
They saw Ethan—bloodied, broken, but still standing. They saw Grace, unconscious and pale. They saw Luke, battered to the edge of death.
And for the first time, they realized: even the strongest could bleed. Even Ethan, the man who walked through swarms of zombies like death incarnate, could be hurt.
And if he could be hurt… then maybe no one was truly safe in this dying world.
The silence that followed was heavy, suffocating. A silence born not of relief, but of the cruel truth that survival had only just begun.
The girls—faces beautiful even under the strain of fear and exhaustion, hair disheveled but still carrying a strange allure in the moonlight—swarmed down the gate. Their voices cracked with worry as they caught sight of the blood-soaked figure being carried in by Spawn.
"Ethan!" Julia's voice broke like glass as she ran forward. Her delicate hands trembled as they touched his bloodied chest, her wide eyes misting over. Even with dirt smudging her pale cheeks, her beauty was arresting—long lashes trembling with unshed tears, her soft lips forming words that faltered under grief.
"Big brother Ethan… how did you get hurt so badly?" Her voice wavered, full of pain. "You wait, I'll heal you right now!" She pressed her glowing palms against him, desperate to pour what little energy she had into him.
She had recovered a portion of her mana after resting through the morning, but her reserves were still painfully shallow.
"No!" Ethan rasped, his voice sharp despite the blood bubbling in his throat. He coughed hard, crimson spraying from his lips, but his grip on Julia's wrist was iron. His eyes, fierce even through the haze of pain, pinned her in place. "Treat Luke—immediately! I can still hold on."
His chest heaved, but his words were absolute.
"Ethan!" Luna rushed to his side, her beauty almost otherworldly in the moonlight. Tears glistened down her flawless cheeks, her lips trembling as she pleaded, "No, save Grace first! Please! She's too hurt—she won't last much longer without healing!"
Her desperation cracked like thunder in the silence. Grace had thrown herself into the fight for Luna's sake. Their bond was forged in blood, and Luna could not stand idly by while the woman who saved her slipped toward death.
She dropped to her knees, clutching at Julia's trousers. Her tears spilled freely, dripping onto the cold asphalt. "Julia, I beg you! Help Grace first!"
Julia froze, torn between duty and desperation. Her eyes flickered to Ethan, uncertain.
But Ethan's glare cut through the chaos. His voice, hoarse yet commanding, snapped like a whip. "Enough! This isn't the first time, Luna. Don't interfere when I'm making the calls."
Luna recoiled as if struck. Ethan swayed on his feet, nearly collapsing, then forced himself upright with a painful breath. Blood ran down his chin, but his mind was unshaken.
"Julia—heal Luke first, then Grace," he ordered through clenched teeth. "No arguments. Do it. Now."
Spawn moved like a silent sentinel, seizing Luna's wrists and pulling her back before she could beg further. Her cries still rang out, raw and broken. "Please, Ethan! I'll do anything—just save Grace first! I'll listen to everything you say—just this once, please!"
Julia's face was pale, her body trembling with the weight of the choice. Her spirit was too weak—she could only use her healing skill once with her current reserves. Choosing meant life for one and death for the other.
Kneeling beside Luke's crumpled body, Julia raised her glowing hands. Her voice cracked with strain as she whispered the incantation. Two soft streams of white light flowed into Luke's chest, sinking deep. His pale lips twitched, color slowly returning to his cheeks. His shallow breathing deepened, faint but steady.
Luke's eyes fluttered, barely conscious, but a weak word escaped his lips. "...Thanks."
Julia exhaled heavily, sweat beading her temple. She turned her eyes to Ethan, her voice thick with sorrow. "Big brother Ethan… I… I don't have enough left. I can't heal Grace."
Luna's scream tore through the air. Her face turned ashen, eyes blazing with despair. She lashed out, tears streaming, her words venomous through heartbreak. "Ethan, you bastard! You damned bastard! Why didn't you save her? Why not her!?"
Ethan's patience snapped. "Shut up and let me handle this!" His voice thundered, silencing even the night. His ribs screamed in agony, his breath ragged, but his mind remained sharp, calculating.
Olivia, seizing the opportunity, stepped in. The raven-haired beauty moved quickly, her lithe frame pressing against Luna's from behind. She wrapped one arm around the girl's shoulders, the other firmly covering her mouth. "Quiet," she whispered coldly in her ear, her eyes flickering briefly to Ethan.
Ethan staggered, his body shaking as he forced his armor straps loose. He pulled the 2nd Degree Protective Garment from his body. The protective weave still glistened faintly with residual power.
"Julia, put this on," he growled. "Now."
Her eyes widened. "But, Big brother—"
"Don't argue! Wear it!" His tone left no room for hesitation.
She slipped into the armor, and immediately her body felt lighter, sharper, stronger. The garment granted +5 to all stats, and the surge of vitality and spirit gave the push it needed.
Without hesitation, Julia knelt by Grace's fragile body. The woman's beauty was undeniable even in her broken state—her long lashes fluttering against pale cheeks, her lips parted as faint breaths rattled from her lungs, her once-strong body trembling with pain. Julia pressed glowing palms against her, whispering the words once more.
Light enveloped Grace. Slowly, the blood at her lips dried, her pale complexion flushed with warmth, and her ragged breathing steadied. Her eyelids flickered as her life was pulled back from the edge of death.
She lived.
Ethan sagged back, every breath agony without the armor. His broken ribs ground together with each inhale, every nerve screaming. The +5 Vitality from the garment had been the only thing keeping him upright. Without it, even breathing was torment.
But Grace was alive.
"Inside," Ethan gritted out, his voice barely more than a growl. "Now. Spawn—help me."
The group moved in a battered line. Luna, cradling Grace like a sister. Lucy and Maria, both striking in their own fragile beauty, supporting Luke between them. Olivia, ever watchful, her hand never far from her weapon.
And Ethan, blood-soaked and broken, leaning against Spawn as they made their slow return into the compound.
Daisy's voice trembled as she broke the heavy silence. "What… what really happened out there? How could it end like this?"
Her words carried the weight of everyone's fears. She turned toward William, who, miraculously, stood as the only one unscathed. Her wide, beautiful eyes, normally bright, were shadowed with unease. Around them, the rest of the survivors shifted, their faces pale. They, too, wanted answers—answers to explain how Ethan, the strongest among them, had returned broken and bleeding.
William gave a strained smile, but it was one without joy. His hands shook slightly as he gestured while speaking. "After we found the vehicles… Ethan said we should scout ahead, toward Jiang Bridge, see if it was passable…"
He retold the story, detail by detail, his words like knives in the dimly lit room. And when he described how the Hunters—towering abominations of muscle and speed—had smashed Grace, Luke, and Spawn aside with a single blow, a collective gasp filled the air.
The girls pressed their hands to their mouths. Even Lucy, always composed, faltered, her lips trembling. Everyone knew how capable those four were—Grace with her Sword, Luke with his sheer grit, Spawn's unyielding power, and Ethan's tactical mind and will to achieve what he wants. If even they had been tossed aside so effortlessly… what chance did the rest of them have?
A suffocating weight settled over the room.
"It's… it's even worse out there than we thought," whispered Maria, her soft voice breaking. She tucked a strand of her silky hair behind her ear, her gorgeous face pale as porcelain. "If even Ethan couldn't match those things… we'd all be slaughtered in seconds."
No one argued. The truth hung above them like a noose.
It had only been three days since the world fell apart, three endless days of blood and screams, and until now Ethan had seemed untouchable—someone who could carry the weight of them all. But this was the first time they'd seen him broken. His body, once their unshakable wall, now lay fractured, his chest barely rising with each breath. If Ethan could fall… what hope was left for anyone else?
---
Inside the master bedroom, the atmosphere was no lighter. Julia sat beside Ethan, her delicate hands trembling as she clutched his. Her eyes were red, lashes wet with tears as she whispered, "Big brother Ethan, I'll… I'll take off the Protective Garment. Please, wear it. You need it more than me."
Her voice was soft, desperate, full of love and fear.
Ethan coughed violently, blood flecking his lips. Each spasm racked his body, but still his voice came hard and unyielding. "No! Don't you dare. Until your spirit reaches at least six, you keep it on! Do you hear me?" His voice cracked, but his command cut through her like steel. "If you take it off, you'll suffer something We are uncertain; this is not a game that would contain a bug related to equipping and unequipping that enables stacking bonuses.. I don't even know what happens if your stats go negative—but I'm not letting you be the one to find out. Don't argue."
Julia's tears spilled freely. She pressed his roughened left hand to her cheek, her beauty marred by sorrow, yet somehow even more breathtaking. "I won't take it off," she whispered fiercely. "I swear, I won't."
On the bed, Ethan's right arm lay limp, grotesquely swollen and bruised black-purple where the Hunter had crushed it. Every shallow breath sent another jolt of agony through his ribs. If not for the four points he had poured into Vitality, he would already be dead. He knew it.
"Spawn, guard the room," Ethan rasped. The skeletal warrior obeyed wordlessly, looming like a grim sentinel by the door.
Julia tended to him tirelessly. Through dusk she sat at his side, her fingers brushing strands of hair from his forehead, whispering comforts. Finally, as the last of the fading light left the sky, her spirit had recovered enough. She summoned her magic, pale white light blooming from her palms. The glow spilled across Ethan's battered chest, mending torn flesh and knitting bone. It wasn't enough to restore him, but it dulled the agony. Exhausted, he drifted into a fitful sleep.
Hours later, the scent of food roused him. His stomach growled, hollow after a day of torture and fighting. Forcing his eyes open, he saw Luna step inside, carrying a steaming bowl.
The sight nearly overwhelmed him. The bowl was piled high with hot rice, glistening under the dim lantern-light. Four slices of luncheon meat rested on top, their edges browned. Stir-fried vegetables crowned it, still glistening with oil. It wasn't much, but in this world it looked like a feast fit for kings.
Luna's beauty was striking even in exhaustion—her dark hair clinging to her face, her wide eyes shimmering with guilt. She knelt beside the bed, her voice trembling. "Are you awake? Ethan… I'm sorry. I shouldn't have screamed at you earlier. I—I was wrong."
Her apology cut deeper than her earlier outburst. Ethan stared at her, his mind cloudy with pain. She wasn't wrong to have begged for Grace; in her place, he might have done worse. But leadership meant bearing the weight of choices that broke hearts.
"It's okay," he said quietly, though his eyes held the shadow of the burden he carried.
He tried to reach for the food, but pain lanced through his chest, his face contorting as his breath hitched. Even the smallest movement was agony.
"Stop," Julia said sharply, snatching the bowl from Luna's hands. Her tone softened as she sat closer, spoon in hand. "Let me feed you, Big brother Ethan."
Her touch was careful, tender, as if every movement might shatter him. She had been at his side since afternoon, her devotion unwavering. The girl who once was a mischievous little witch, known for her headstrong defiance, now poured all of her energy into him—watching him, tending him, worrying for him.
If her parents could see her now, they would never believe it. But Julia had changed.
Ethan allowed himself a faint smile. "Then I'll rely on you."
In truth, he had no choice. His right arm was useless, bones broken, and even with Julia's healing, it would take weeks—maybe months—before he could properly fight again. He needed to rely on her now. On all of them.
Julia sat by Ethan's side, her delicate hands moving with surprising steadiness as she scooped a piece of luncheon meat with her spoon. She blew gently on it, cooling the steam, then carefully mixed it with rice and broth before guiding it to Ethan's lips.
Ethan ate slowly, each swallow painful, but the warmth of the food gave him strength. His right arm was still useless, but Julia's tenderness filled the void, her wide, bright eyes shining with both worry and determination.
Across from them, Luna stood in silence. The lantern-light caught the strands of her silky dark hair, making them glisten like midnight silk. She was stunning—elegant even in her fatigue, her curves outlined under the thin fabric of her clothes. But her eyes, sharp and restless, betrayed something deeper.
Her gaze lingered on Ethan, unreadable. Finally, after a long hesitation, she spoke softly but firmly. "Ethan… today… why did you not save Grace first?"
Her words cut through the quiet, and Julia's hand stilled for a heartbeat before she continued feeding him.
Ethan lifted his tired gaze to Luna. His voice, though strained, was calm and precise, each word spoken like a blade pressed to truth.
"In my mind… Luke is more important than Grace. If it happened again, I would make the same choice."
The room froze.
Luna's beautiful eyes widened slightly, hurt flickering within them. She stepped closer, her lips trembling as she forced out, "Don't you think… that's too selfish? Not like a gentleman?"
Her voice quivered—not just with accusation, but with something else. Disappointment. Maybe even longing.
Ethan drew in a shallow breath, then answered evenly, though his tone carried an edge of iron.
"I regret to inform you… I am not the hero you want me to be. I don't see myself as noble, or even selfless. I'm a realist. I protect who I must, and I do it without pretending otherwise. I push myself not to harm those around me, but… I know my limits. I can only do so much. And I believe, Luna… if our positions were reversed, Grace would have done the same for you. And it's the same for you too.."
Silence stretched. The flickering light cast shadows across Luna's face, softening her beauty with sorrow. Her lips parted again, a sudden surge of emotion breaking through her restraint. "If today… it wasn't Grace. If it was me and Luke—if both of us were injured, and you could only save one—who would you save?"
Julia's spoon clinked against the bowl, her wide eyes darting between them.
Ethan didn't hesitate. His answer came blunt, almost merciless. "Luke."
The air turned cold. The warmth of food, the fragile comfort of companionship, all shattered under the weight of that word.
Luna's face froze, her beauty carved with a brittle smile that didn't reach her eyes. She whispered softly, but her voice was colder than steel. "Then… rest well, Ethan."
Without another word, she turned and walked out, her steps quiet but heavy, her figure fading into the dim hallway like a ghost.
The room fell into an awkward silence. Julia blinked her bright eyes, her expression somewhere between amused and shocked. Then, unable to help herself, she gave a sly smile. "Big brother Ethan… you're really dumb. If you had just told her you'd save her, maybe she would have agreed to be your girlfriend. Luna is so beautiful—almost any man would give anything for her."
Ethan exhaled slowly, leaning his head back against the pillow. His gaze hardened, his tone calm but laced with steel. "How can it be that simple? Luna is remarkable, yes. She has beauty, strength, even a noble heart. But her mind is still trapped in the past. She wants the world before all this… but that world is gone. I won't deceive her with false words. She already knew my answer—she just wanted to hear it from my mouth."
His voice softened, but only slightly. "And I'm sure… if she were standing where I am, she'd have done the same."
Julia tilted her head, her ponytail swaying, her youthful face mischievous. Her smile was sly, her clear eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Hmm… then tell me, Big brother Ethan. Do you and Luke have… that kind of relationship? Otherwise, how can you look at Luna—so gorgeous, so perfect—and not feel tempted?"
Her words were like a spark in a room heavy with gunpowder. Ethan's body jerked upright despite the pain, his eyes blazing. He reached out with his left hand and pinched Julia's cheek, grinding his teeth. "You little demon! What the hell is inside that head of yours? No homo!"
Julia squeaked, wincing under his grip, her delicate face scrunching in pain. "Ow—ow! I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I was just joking! It's obvious you're not into men—I've seen the way your eyes linger on women's figures."
Ethan froze for a moment, then slowly released her, shaking his head with a helpless sigh. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips despite himself. "Are you monitoring me now? How do you even come up with this nonsense?"
Julia giggled, rubbing her reddened cheek. Her voice turned softer, almost thoughtful. "Information's everywhere, you know. The internet… all the weird stuff kids my age scroll through. I might be young, but I know a lot more than you think. You were my tutor, remember? You should know by now—I've always been curious. Always learning."
Her playful expression lingered only a moment before her gaze turned strangely serious. Her lips parted, and in the quiet of the room, she whispered: "Then… I'll be your girlfriend. Okay?"
The words hung heavy in the air.
Ethan turned to her, his eyes narrowing. For the first time that evening, he really looked at her.
Her long hair was tied into a simple ponytail, falling over one shoulder like ink over silk. She had the toned, healthy body of someone who loved exercise, her wheat-colored skin glowing faintly under the dim light. The white T-shirt she wore hugged her youthful figure, revealing the shape of a modest but alluring chest—small, firm, full of promise. Her delicate face, with its bright eyes and playful smile, seemed impossibly young and yet far too beautiful for the world they now lived in.
The air thickened again, the weight of her words settling between them like a trap.
And Ethan, scarred and weary, could only stare at her, caught between the lines of survival, temptation, and the brutal honesty he had sworn to live by.