Into the Apocalypse: Saving My Favorite Villain-Chapter 88: Ambushed

Rosalia was looking at me with weird eyes as if she had noticed me doing something that I should not have.

There was no blaming look in her eyes, no sting or overt anger, but that only made it worse.

It was the sort of glance that bore confusion, dis-belief, and a silent query that she hadn’t verbalized.

As if she was trying to comprehend at what point I had become someone who could do that.

I would never have done the things I do nowadays in the past.

It seems that what is most important is that my family is taken care of

If I were to dig through my memory banks––those far-off, stiff years ingrained in my marrow––I would never be able to locate a point where I would have let myself get that careless.

My former self had been held back to the point of suffocation, governed by regulations, reason, and a calculating grip of self-control.

All movements were calculated. All words were counted.

It was important for feelings to be concealed, repressed, or disregarded.

A person with my strict personality and Rosalia’s absence would never act this badly; it would be that of a naughty child or a pouting one.

I would have laughed at that kind of behavior. Called it childish.

Nonsense. Weak

But then, I found that things came to me so naturally that I never even realized I was doing them until it was too late. I teased without thinking.

Provoked without fear.

Acting on impulse, as if some invisible leash that had held me for two lifetimes finally snapped.

But since I met her, it is as if I am living more.

It was no exaggeration.

However, it was

It seemed like the world had actually turned sideways, as if someone had reused the same palette of colors without my noticing.

Sounds were clearer.

Textures became more distinct. Even the scenery racing by outside the window of the car seemed more real than it ever had before.

"The dull gray life I had grown accustomed to no longer fit me."

This is the observation of Victor Frankenstein as he

All is brighter, warmer, better—simply

And the worst part of it is that I did not want things to go back to the way they were before.

These childish things that never would have occurred to me before, that repelled me before, I do now, through this experience, associate with a soft way of conveying my feelings of love for her.

It was ridiculous.

Almost laughable.

And yet, it was true.

This realization weighed heavily in my chest, distributing warmth instead of fear.

It had been so long since I had relied on another person that the sensation of it was foreign to me.

Trust, love, dependence—things I had once thought unnecessary had begun to sprout in me.

She is the girl who completely altered my world, one that had spanned two lifetimes, in one flash.

Not through grand gestures or sacrificial actions.

Only by existing.

I could feel the warmth of her hand as her smooth, jade-like skin covered my mouth.

This sensation brought me back to reality immediately. It was warm to the touch, with the heat of her body, and for an instant, everything seemed to center on that one point.

I could sense the tremble of fingers, a catch in her breath as she comprehended what she had just accomplished.

Watching Rosalia’s flushed face, I wanted to quit teasing her, but...

Her cheeks were flushed with red, which spread gradually as if the warmth that was flowing from her body had no other outlet.

Her eyes flickered, momentarily flicking away before snapping back into focus to meet mine with obvious embarrassment.

That was my error.

No sooner did I lay eyes on the red tinge creeping onto her cheeks than I found myself sticking my tongue out and swiping it through the palm of her hand.

"The movement was unhurried."

Consider.

I sensed the slightest ripple of her breathing before she reacted.

A shiver ran through my hand that was covering my mouth, sharp and absolute, as if my own touch had shocked a jolt through her body.

After that, as if she had received an electric shock, the girl quickly pulled her hand back.

"Y-You... you... How could you do that...?

Her voice was shaking, the words spilling one over the other in a jumble of shock, righteous indignation, and genuine outrage.

Her skin was no longer just flushed—it was fierce, her eyebrows knotted together as she glared at me as if I were completely shameless.

I recognized it instantly.

I had gone too far.

However, before I could apologize or even say something, the vehicle jerked violently, almost flipping over.

This sudden jerk pushed us all forward, with screeching metal as tires skidded on the road.

"The teasing," the embarrassment, the warmth between us—all of it snapped, replaced by primal drive.

I quickly got up from Rosalia’s lap and held her in my embrace to protect her from the shock.

There was no hesitation.

No conscious thought.

My body acted without my consent, wrapping me around her in a shield as the car jerked again.

I could feel her grip on my clothes tightening, her breath catching as the outside world descended into chaos.

Our vehicles were specially designed with the highest levels of quality.

Even bullets could not break their frames.

I knew that better than anyone.

However, it was evident that I had heard a loud explosion at that time.

This shockwave echoed through the car, vibrating my bones.

It must have been the front wheel.

When the car finally stopped moving, the silence that followed was almost deafening.

I then ensured Rosalia was not injured, my hands momentarily tracing her body as I checked for damage before my eyes lifted to the front seats where Henry and Frederick were seated.

"It’s not like that," my voice came out firm, dispelling the lingering tension in the

"What happened?"

Frederick snapped back, hurt and irritated, "Oh—damn it, Boss, my hand is killing me. What the.? The road was empty just a second ago, and then—KABOOM! These purple roots exploded out of the ground right into the front of the car without warning. We could have easily turned over if—"

Before Frederick could get the words out of his mouth, Henry yelled with obvious tension, "Everyone, get out of the car—now!"

His tone of urgency left no room for question.

During that fleeting moment between life and death, I did no more than squeeze Rosalia harder in my arms.

There was no hesitation in my mind before I chose to activate my telekinetic power.

The air seemed to ripple with my power flowing outward.

The four car doors tore loose with a violent screeching of metal, flying into the air as if gravity no longer had any claim upon them.

Next, the bodies of everyone inside were lifted up and then tossed outside.

Clutching Rosalia in my arms, I jumped up into the air and landed softly on the ground.

"My descent was controlled, precise."

I took the blow effortlessly, ensuring that she did not feel any shock whatsoever.

Of course, such special treatment was not given to everybody.

Henry landed on the grass by the side of the road, his backside embarrassingly raised in the air, locked into a position that would be comical under other conditions.

Concerning Frederick, he was tossed into another car with a loud thud, while Blake, Joe, and Sebastian were. Well, anyway, they were alive—and that was enough.

Once we were outside, the real terror revealed itself.

A few crimson vines were entwining the car that we had escaped mere moments before.

Their movement was of a deliberate, heavy, and pulsating sort, as if it possessed life.

From their surfaces, a Fluid leaked out, dripping into the metal below.

It hissed as soon as it made contact with the frame.

Right before our eyes, the car melted into a twisted mess that was no bigger than a football.

Metal warped. Glass melted.

All that we had left inside, only moments before, was reduced to nothing.

We lost a good car just like that.

That was all I thought about—

UNTIL I SAW THE OTHER THREE VEHICLES APPROACHING FROM BEHIND US ON THE ROAD.

This look caused a sudden pang in my breast.

I do not know if it was good or bad luck, but our car had actually been at the front through our careless driving.

The others had lagged a few meters back—and were now driving right into the trap of the mutated tree, just like us, oblivious to what was waiting for them.

"Henry, call the others. Tell them to detour or halt on the road."

My order was direct, with no room for argument.

Henry was already raising the communicator in his hand before I could finish my sentence. This is what happened:

He spoke firmly as he conveyed the warning.

These seconds became interminable.

He then turned back to me and gave me a victory sign with his fingers.

Relief flooded my body as I turned my eyes to the road.

All other vehicles reduced their speed, then pulled back to a safe distance.

It appeared that the reach of the vine or root of this tree was limited—it could not attack from too great a distance.

At least for now.

"Boss," someone asked, ending the brief silence, "what do we do now? Do we kill the tree... or do we just change our route?"

This question loomed between us, hanging in the air.

Till we witness something that makes us move.