Harem God- Dimensional Motel System-Chapter 50: Interactions With The Night Part 9

His hand snapped to the bow on his back. Arrows flew—clean, silent, merciless.

One by one, the gunmen collapsed. Throats pierced. Eyes blown out.

No second chances. No missed shots.

By the time the others turned to scream, Luck already leapt from the wall.

His boots slammed into the pavement. Sword drawn mid-fall.

They tried to raise their own weapons, to fight back—but they were too slow.

He slipped between them like smoke through cracks, cutting through skulls and necks .

To him, they were no different from the infected.

One dropped. Then another. Then three more, heads splitting open like ripe fruit.

Only the woman remained. She yanked her gun, desperate—but too late.

Luck’s blade flashed.

thud!

Her wrist hit the ground before the rest of her understood what happened.

She didn’t even scream right away. Just stared at the stump, shaking.

In that moment, it felt like she was staring death in the face. No—not death. The man smiling in front of her was worse.

"Didn’t anyone teach you?" Luck snarled, a sinister grin spreading across his face. "Never, ever turn your back on the enemy."

The pain finally caught up. She let out a scream, fell to her knees, and grasped the bleeding remains of where her hand once was.

"Why?" she choked out, tears mixing with the blood on her face. "We backed away!"

"Do you think I’m an idiot?" Luck sighed, pressing the tip of his blade under her chin.

"You’d either come back with a plan to raid this place... or worse, run to your base and bring backup."

"How many people do you have..." his voice faded out.

"Five... Ten... Twenty," he grinned as he noticed her reaction. A classic mind-guessing technique.

Her eyes widened—he read her like an open book.

"Tsk, tsk." he shook his head. "If you hadn’t taken my people hostage, or threatened me—we might’ve worked something out."

"But you had to act tough. Had to play the bitch." He stepped back, blade still raised. "Now your friends are dead for following an incompetent, egotistical leader."

"Please," she gasped. "Don’t kill me. I was just trying to survive. We all were. I—I made a mistake--"

Before she could finish her plea, her head left her shoulders. It hit the ground with a dull thud. Her body slumped soon after.

[DING]

[BONUS MISSION COMPLETE:]

[REWARD: x2 Silver Box]

Luck stood over the corpse, blood sliding down his blade. The system’s message blinked quietly in his vision—out of place in a world soaked in blood.

He wiped the blade clean without a word and turned away.

"You two alright?"

"Yes. Thank you," Fernando responded, still catching his breath. "Those people... they’re known for raiding survivors and stealing everything they can."

Yuna’s hands trembled as she nodded. "We thought we were dead,"

"Don’t worry. As long as you’re under my watch, I’ll protect every single one of you to the best of my ability."

Both of them looked at him with a mix of appreciation, relief, and awe. They were starting to trust him more.

[DING!]

[Owner, congratulations. You unlocked the Relationship Level. Now you can see how they see you by saying "R Stats"

’R Stats’

A meter appeared above their heads. It was split into ten sections.

Fernando’s meter was at seven. Yuna’s was already at nine.

’This girl gets impressed way too easily,’ he sighed. ’No surprise she ditched her panties in record time.’

Next, he turned to Dima, who was leaning against the watch tower. His meter was at seven, too.

"Open the gate, and help me get our spoils of war," he commanded.

Calling it spoils of war made the trio exchange uneasy glances—maybe questioning his sanity a little—but they followed his orders anyway.

Within minutes, the three slogged through the gore-soaked carnage.

Luck took note of the inventory: two automatic rifles, several semi-broken pistols, a battered walkie-talkie, two hand-cranked flashlights, and a miscellany of knives, brass knuckles, and scavenged tools.

Dima and Fernando stripped the corpses briskly, working like butchers at a closing market.

The woman’s body twitched once as Fernando pried open the tactical vest, plucking out a full magazine still sealed in plastic. "She was loaded."

Yuna, still pale from her close call, scoured the pockets and found a strip of morphine injectors and a heat-sealed bag of dried meat.

She pocketed both, then, seeing Luck’s look, held them up for inspection.

"Medical and food packs," she said, barely above a whisper.

"Just put them on the bag. We’ll sort after."

She nodded, wiping her hands on her jeans.

The clean-up was halfway done when Roger and Gregor returned, the twins’ faces turning cartoonish as they took in the gory scene.

Roger paled, then colored, then went paper-white again as he spotted the headless woman.

"What the hell happened?," he breathed.

Fernando, seeing their confusion, quickly explained the situation.

"Long story short: we got jumped, taken at gunpoint, but Luck here went full ninja on them. Like, he just—" He mimed a decapitating chop with his hand, still sticky with blood. "It was...really fast."

Roger leaned forward, looking from Luck to the line of corpses. "You killed all of them?"

He shrugged. "If I didn’t kill them, they would’ve come back with more people. I’m guessing you wouldn’t want that, right?"

Roger was still hesitant. "But what if their friends come looking for them?"

"Don’t worry. This world’s crawling with zombies and desperate survivors—people die all the time. We get rid of the bodies, and it’s like we never met them."

Dima grunted in agreement. "Honestly, rather be dead than a walking piñata for some other group. You did good, boss."

Luck scanned the twin’s faces. There was still fear, sure, but more and more it was eclipsed by something else.

Not respect, exactly, but that raw, rattled allegiance one get when someone personally annihilates there enemy. And seeing that both of them were still at five, he knew he had to offer more carrots.

"Double-time with the bodies, and move them off the property. No blood trails. Yuna, keep watch from the tower."

"Roger, Gregor, come with me. Let’s see if you’ve brought any useful information."

Inside the wall, the twins felt a bit of pressure.

Luck tapped his feet, scanning the maps with a face that showed neither happiness nor irritation.

"Good job, but this only covers the east side. Tomorrow, I want you to check the other directions."

Both sighed in relief.

"This is your reward. Don’t tell the others, alright?" He handed each a pack of chocolate biscuits.

Their meters instantly jumped from five to six. They thanked him right away, unaware they were playing right into his hands.

By staying cold and tough, he made sure that any small act of kindness would have a much bigger impact later on.

It was a strategy—keeping them in check, making sure they earned his benevolence instead of expecting it.

While they happily went to the other corner to devour their snacks, Luck was already thinking about how to make the two more useful.

At the same time, he hoped non-hostile survivors would arrive. The larger his group, the higher his daily EC earnings.

’I should check the silver boxes inside.’