Apocalypse King: Recruiting S-Tier Beauties With My Ruler System-Chapter 93: Brutes and Rivals

The shouting got clearer with each step — furniture crashing and too many voices trying to shout over panic. Someone screamed at the doors. Someone else screamed louder. It wasn’t tactical. It was a collapse.

I opened the system.

[ZKP: 1405]

Fast taps. No hesitation.

[Purchase: Healing Potion – 50 ZKP]

[Purchase: 9mm Magazine ×5 – 50 ZKP]

[Remaining ZKP: 1105]

I reached into my pack, pulled out the Type-9K, and shoved it into Shen Yifei’s hands. It was already set to single-shot mode. The kick would still hit hard, but not enough to break an arm.

Because they were this close, I could see that Deng Hua was wounded, while the others seemed no better.

"Give this to Liang Mei," I said. "Three mags." I dropped them into her palm, one by one.

"Will she use it?" Shen Yifei asked.

"She’ll survive," I said. "Make sure of it."

Then I handed her the cheap pistol we took off the thugs — the knockoff 9mm still half-oiled. I shoved the five magazines into her satchel.

"Give that to Deng Hua. Make him shoot from second line."

She blinked once, processing, but nodded quickly.

"And this." I pulled out the sealed healing vial and dropped it into her hand.

"He’s wounded," I said. "This gets him moving. Or keeps him breathing. Whichever comes first."

She stared down at the items, then back up.

"You’re not going in with a gun?"

"Don’t need one."

The voices ahead turned sharp — a cry of pain, a smashed table, the sound of something heavy slamming flesh.

I stepped forward and didn’t look back again.

——

Qinglan didn’t see me.

Not at first.

Mu Qinglan’s shoulders tensed the moment I grabbed her waist first. I held her tight, grounding her before the Speed-Type’s claws could reach the space where her spine had just been. I could feel the heat off her skin. Her breath caught.

"John—"

I didn’t answer.

The Brute was already charging.

Eight feet of twitching mass, half its ribcage exposed, lungs sliding wetly over its bones.

Its weight cracked tiles with each stomp, body regenerating mid-motion. I spun her out of the way, one arm guiding her momentum toward cover, the other raising my spear as I stepped into the open.

I drove it forward low, aiming for the inside knee, not to stop it, but to angle the force. It hit, sank in, then warped. The Brute’s momentum ripped through the haft, bending it around its leg as it slammed a backhand toward my skull.

I twisted — just fast enough to dodge it cleanly.

The Qi inside my core surged — heat spiralling up from my stomach, flooding my chest, arms, legs. The pain that came with it was deep and tight, but it made my flesh throb with strength. My bones tensed. My breath slowed.

Titan’s Marrow was flowing again.

I caught the Brute’s wrist mid-swing, planted my boot, and huffed before pushing it back.

It didn’t budge far — maybe a foot. That was enough.

The bent spear clattered to the side. I didn’t reach for it.

This was hand-to-hand now.

Just like I thought... the spear didn’t suit me. Not when fighting Zao, or when using strength above a certain level.

I didn’t have a clue what weapon to use, so I just used my hands.

It roared — mouth splitting down the middle, stomach yawning open. Strings of mucus splattered across my shirt as I stepped back in.

The Brute lunged again — clumsy, heavy.

I dropped my stance low and moved under it.

Fist clenched. Jaw tight.

I slammed my elbow into its thigh. Felt something pop.

It screamed — not out of pain, but pressure like air bursting from a punctured drum. Its stomach-mouth flexed wide and snapped, teeth grinding, chasing the scent of my skin.

I ducked. Turned. Hammered two shots into its side.

My knuckles sank deeper than I expected.

It shuddered — mass too thick to knock off balance. Its shoulder crashed into me. I slipped sideways, boots skidding across blood-wet tile.

Another swing came low. I jumped — not to dodge, but to land my knee into its neck.

It caught the blow. I felt its hand clamp around my thigh.

"Fuck."

It flung me.

I slammed into the auditorium wall. Hard.

Cracks spidered out from the impact. My vision tunnelled. My ribs screamed.

The Qi surged again — fire in my spine, marrow boiling.

I pushed off the wall and dropped into a crouch.

The Brute was already halfway turned, its limbs jerking, twitching. Regenerating. One eye bulged open — pupil gone. Just a white socket.

And it smiled with both mouths.

I grinned back.

Come on, then.

To the left, the Green Zombie shrieked and blurred — an inhuman dash like broken film.

It snapped toward Mu Qinglan.

She reacted too slow.

"Left!" Shen Yifei shouted — voice sharp, timed right.

Qinglan ducked instinctively. The claws missed her scalp by inches.

Yifei’s spear flashed forward, catching the Speed-Type in the ribs as it banked toward her. The tip didn’t sink deep. The monster... far too fast — but it bent the thing’s trajectory.

Qinglan used that moment.

She spun on her heel and slammed the bat into the Green zombie’s side.

A crack echoed — something internal snapped.

The Green skipped sideways, slammed into the wall, and bounced off it like it weighed nothing.

It didn’t scream. Just blinked. Head tilted at the wrong angle. Arms twitching.

It moved again — faster this time.

A blur.

Qinglan dodged with a graceful roll.

Her bat scraped the floor — she aimed for the ankle but missed.

"Yifei—"

"I see it!"

The zombie spun mid-run. Changed directions twice.

It went for Yifei.

She braced in a wide stance, spear angled low.

I could see it in her eyes — not fear.

Calculating.

She leapt forward, piercing out as the green stopped and launched straight up into the air.

It hit the ceiling, rebounded, and came down like a knife.

"It’s too fast..."

Qinglan tackled her sideways just in time.

They hit the ground together, rolled.

The Green zombie twisted mid-air and landed wrong, shoulder bending backwards. It didn’t matter. It stood again like it didn’t have bones.

Yifei shoved Qinglan off her. "We’re not friends."

"No shit," Qinglan muttered, pushing up.

"Watch your back then."

"You watch yours."

They split—flanking opposite sides of the thing.

The Green zombie twitched.

It couldn’t track both.

—

I exhaled and turned back to the Brute.

It had changed again.

Flesh now smoother, arms rippling. White sap-like fluid ran down its stomach-mouth.

It cracked its neck once.

Then vanished.

No charge. Just gone.

I ducked reflexively. It slammed into the space behind me, ripping a crater out of the concrete.

The blow came faster than before, more violently, but I didn’t run. But felt excited!

I met it head-on, fist curling tight, knees bent, the zombie’s eyes locked on me as I grinned at it with a sense of delight.

And punched it in the fucking jaw.

Titan Marrow Sutra—Stage 1: 56% [Hardened Core]

My fist cracked against the Brute’s lower jaw. I felt the cartilage tear. Something gave.

It stumbled half a step.

That’s all I needed.

I stepped in close, left foot forward, and drove a cross into the Brute’s floating ribs.

The impact rippled through my shoulder, down my spine.

It felt like hitting meat wrapped in chain mail.

My knuckles burned.

It twisted and swung a haymaker that could’ve snapped a lamppost.

I dipped under it.

My elbow came up in return — straight into its armpit, then into its throat. The soft tissue collapsed slightly.

Its stomach-mouth hissed and sprayed some kind of gas — hot, wet, disgusting. I didn’t breathe it. Didn’t flinch and just hammered it with my fists down into its shoulder.

Another into its sternum.

Then again.

And again.

Until my hands went numb.

The Brute flailed.

It grabbed me mid-combo and slammed me into the ground like it was trying to bury me.

My back cracked concrete. The pain was pure white.

But I saw the red flash again.

[Titan’s Marrow: 74%]

I kicked off the ground and turned into a side roll. Came up low and punched its kneecap sideways.

The joint folded partway.

It didn’t fall, but it slowed.

I surged forward — tackled it like a linebacker, not to drop it, just to disorient.

We both slammed into the wall, concrete cracking outward.

It roared in my ear.

I gritted my teeth and drove my forehead into the side of its skull.

Blood. Mine. Not sure.

Didn’t care.

Off to my right, Qinglan swung high, baiting the Green Zombie to jump.

It did — launched into the air with zero arc, like a bullet.

Yifei lunged upward and stabbed it from below as it descended, full extension.

The spear hit the spine.

It twitched once, jerked, and dropped.

Then scrambled back up, claws twitching, legs shaking.

"Again!" Qinglan shouted.

Yifei didn’t answer.

She was already moving.

The Green Zombie spun and lashed out with both arms — elbows first.

Qinglan caught the first strike on her forearm, grunted, spun, and answered with a low bat swing to the back of its knees. Yifei swept in behind it, reversed her grip, and drove the spear in horizontally, under the ribs.

The Green Zombie shrieked and snapped backwards.

Qinglan caught it.

Right across the skull.

Bat met bone with a loud, flat crack.

It dropped.

Twitching.

Not dead yet.

But almost.

Liang Qiu slammed a table into the west barricade as more infected pounded against it.

"Twenty more!" she called.

Zhou Xue stabbed a blade through a crawling one’s face.

Chen Xun was limping.

Barely moving.

Deng Hua fired another shot — missed once, then clipped a shoulder. "Cover that side!" I called out while driving my foot into the Brute’s gut.

It groaned — a shuddering, organ-deep sound.

Then it tried to run.

I grabbed its arm.

Pulled it back.

And broke its elbow over my shoulder with a loud snap. The brute’s arm dangled as it stumbled back.

[Titan’s Marrow: 81%]

I was just using it to grow stronger at this point.