Global Survival: I Have Endless Skeletons-Chapter 193: False Hope

While the residents of Brightspire District trembled in fear and hid within their fortified homes, the situation inside the Silas villa had already descended into absolute chaos.

Thoren and his undead servants had breached the mansion.

In their wake lay a gruesome trail of destruction.

Blood painted the marble floors in thick, dark streaks.

Severed limbs were scattered across the courtyard.

Arms.

Legs.

Heads.

And mangled organs lay strewn about like discarded refuse.

It was a scene so horrifying that any ordinary person would have retched at the sight alone.

Yet the remaining elite guards showed no such reaction.

Fear had long overridden grief.

They did not stop to mourn their fallen comrades.

They did not hesitate.

They rushed inside the villa, slamming the reinforced doors shut behind them.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Gunfire erupted once more.

The guards emptied their magazines toward the advancing undead servants, their hands trembling as they fired wildly.

But it was useless.

Every single shot missed.

The undead moved too fast.

Far too fast.

Their movements blurred beyond the limits of human perception, rendering even trained eyes incapable of tracking them.

Inside the villa, on the second floor, the young master and young miss clung tightly to each other.

Their bodies trembled uncontrollably.

All thoughts of inheritance, wealth, and status had long vanished from their minds.

Right now, they only wanted to survive.

"Why isn’t Grandfather answering our calls?" the young master asked, his voice cracking with panic.

His communicator remained silent in his shaking hand.

"Is he... is he really going to let us die here?" he muttered, despair creeping into his tone.

"T-They’re getting closer..." the young miss whispered, her voice barely audible as fear choked her words.

Her entire body shook.

"What are we going to do if they get inside?" she asked, her eyes wide with terror.

She could not even begin to imagine what fate awaited them if they fell into the hands of that monster.

They didn’t understand.

Why them?

Why would an awakener target their family?

After exhausting every connection they had, they had only managed to uncover one piece of information—

The silver-haired boy had previously attacked their grandfather’s company.

And now...

He had come for them.

All their lives, they had lived in luxury.

Protected.

Untouchable.

To them, awakeners had always been nothing more than expendable tools, fools who risked their lives in the abyss for power and recognition.

Sacrificial lambs.

That was what they believed.

Why would anyone willingly throw themselves into such danger?

Especially when wealth and influence could grant them everything they desired.

But now, that belief shattered completely.

Because in the face of absolute strength.

Money meant nothing.

Connections meant nothing.

Power meant nothing.

All the wealth in the world could not save them.

Bang!

A thunderous crash echoed through the villa.

The reinforced entrance doors splintered violently under the strike of an axe.

Fragments of wood and metal exploded inward.

Bang! Bang!

Two guards stationed at the entrance were cleaved apart in an instant.

Their bodies split open, blood spraying across the walls and staining the floor-to-ceiling windows.

"Huh...!"

The guard captain staggered back, his face twisted in despair.

His hands trembled as he clutched his weapon.

’What’s taking them so long?’ he thought frantically.

He had already contacted both his employer and the Federation Police.

But no one had arrived.

And now, the enemy was inside.

Bang!

Another strike shattered what remained of the entrance.

The undead servants stepped through the wreckage like harbingers of death.

The guard captain fired several desperate shots before turning and retreating toward the staircase.

"If the police don’t arrive now... it’s over," he muttered, ducking behind a wall for cover.

Sweat drenched his uniform.

Despite years of combat experience, he had never encountered enemies like this.

Enemies that could not be hit.

Enemies that could not be stopped.

Their advanced assault rifles, once symbols of superiority were now nothing more than useless metal.

Thud. Thud.

Heavy footsteps echoed through the hallway.

Slow.

Deliberate.

The guard captain held his breath.

His heart pounded violently against his chest.

He could feel it.

Death was closing in.

’Is this... the end?’ he thought.

Suddenly, the wail of police sirens pierced through the chaos.

They were approaching fast.

Outside, nearby residents who had been hiding in fear finally let out sighs of relief.

Inside the villa, the young master and young miss froze for a moment.

"W-We’re saved!" they cried in unison, their voices filled with desperate hope.

Even the guard captain felt a wave of relief wash over him.

At the entrance, however Thoren stopped.

He turned his head slightly, his gaze shifting toward the approaching police vehicles.

Moments later, several cars screeched to a halt.

A middle-aged woman stepped out, her expression stern.

"Stop!" she shouted. "You are under arrest!"

Thoren did not respond.

He did not even glance at her again.

Without hesitation, he stepped forward and entered the villa.

As if she didn’t exist.

"...What?"

The police officers exchanged stunned looks.

Their orders had been clear, stop the awakener.

Protect the Silas family.

But now, faced with the reality before them, none of them knew what to do.

The woman’s brows furrowed deeply.

Her gaze lingered on the blood splattered across the villa windows.

On the severed bodies scattered outside.

She inhaled slowly.

This was not an opponent they could handle.

"What should we do?" one officer asked nervously.

The woman remained silent for a moment.

Then she spoke.

"We do nothing."

Her voice was firm.

Decisive.

With years of experience behind her, she knew exactly when to act and when not to.

"With what we have," she added quietly, "we can’t stop him."

If even the elite guards with advanced weaponry had been slaughtered without resistance, what chance did they have?

Inside the villa, despair settled like a heavy fog.

"Why aren’t they arresting him?!" the young miss screamed hysterically.

"This damned system!" the young master shouted, his face twisted with rage and fear.

On the staircase, the guard captain fired another desperate volley.

But again, nothing hit.

The undead servants moved too quickly.

Bang!

A flash of steel.

"AHHHHH!"

His arm was severed cleanly from his body.

Blood erupted like a broken dam.

The captain collapsed to his knees, screaming in agony as he stared at the stump where his arm had been.

His vision blurred.

His body trembled.

’It’s over...’ he thought weakly

A hand seized his jaw.

He was lifted effortlessly into the air.

He struggled wildly, his remaining hand clawing at nothing.

His eyes were bloodshot, filled with terror.

"Do you know where your master is?" Thoren asked coldly.

Crack!

The undead servant tightened its grip.

Bones shattered audibly.

"I—I know..." the captain gasped, blood spilling from his mouth.

Thoren nodded slightly.

Then he gave a silent command.

The second undead servant moved instantly, searching the villa.

Within moments, two trembling figures were dragged forward.

The young master and the young miss.

"P-Please..." the young miss stammered, her voice shaking uncontrollably.

"Don’t kill us... we’ll give you anything... anything you want..."

Her body quivered as she collapsed to her knees.

For the first time in her life, she understood what it meant to face death.