Surviving the Apocalypse: All I Want Is to Find a Husband-Chapter 150: A Bunch of Weakling (3)

She was fast—unnaturally fast.

One moment she stood before them, and the next, she was behind one of the men, her dagger slicing through his throat. His eyes widened in silent horror as his hands clutched at the wound, trying to cover his wound.

Then, just as life drained from him, Medeia devoured his soul.

The second time was worse.

The remaining men lost all composure.

"RUN!"

It was no longer a fight. It was a desperate attempt for survival.

Some turned and fled, stumbling over themselves in blind terror. Others, too injured to run, crawled through the dirt, their nails clawing at the ground in a useless attempt to escape. The ones still clutching their guns fired wildly, but the bullets never touched her.

"You monster!" one of them spat, his voice shaking.

Medeia let out a low laugh. "Monster?" She clicked her tongue, almost disappointed. "Did you even look at yourselves? You kidnapped a woman and let her baby starve."

The smile vanished from her face, replaced by something colder. "Monsters shouldn’t insult their own kind."

The night air filled with screams and desperate cries that echoed through the canyon. Blood splattered across the frozen ground, pooling beneath mangled bodies. Some of them lost their limbs in the explosions of their own makeshift weapons.

It wasn’t a battle.

It was a massacre.

Medeia slaughtered them one by one, staining the snow with deep crimson. Each of her footsteps was like a death sentence, and her laughter was colder than the cold air, chilling them more than the night ever could.

The system notifications flooded her mind, but rather than distracting her, they only fueled her amusement.

[You have killed an evildoer: +120 XP, +25 coins.]

[You have harvested a soul: +70 XP, +15 coins.]

On this bitterly cold night, those rotten men saw their last snowfall before losing their lives.

"Get away! Stay the hell away from me!" Dom, the last survivor, scrambled backward, throwing sand in her direction to defend himself. But his power had run dry, the sand storm was now just a handful of dust slipping through his trembling fingers.

His leg was a mess, shot by his own bullets. He couldn’t stand, could barely crawl, but still, he tried.

Medeia strolled toward him, her presence alone draining the color from his face. She sighed dramatically, tilting her head. "You know, I actually offered you a deal."

He wheezed, dragging himself away, but Medeia crouched down, resting her chin on her palm as she watched him struggle. "But you just had to be difficult." She exhaled through her nose. "And I really don’t like being rejected."

Her lips curled into a smile, the kind of smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

"So ... yeah. Bye-bye."

She grabbed a rifle from the ground and swung it hard.

CRACK.

Dom collapsed, his body hitting the cold ground. He gasped, his vision blurring from the impact. His hands clawed weakly at the ground, trying to crawl away, but his body wouldn’t cooperate.

Medeia crouched beside him, tilting her head with a smile. "See? This is what happens when you underestimate your prey."

She didn’t waste any more time and devoured his soul. "What a delicious meal."

[Calculating the total kill ...]

[Ding! Ding! You have killed 20 evildoers: +2,400 XP, +500 coins]

[Ding! Ding! You have harvested 20 souls: +1,400 XP, +300 coins]

What a great harvest!

With this many souls, Medeia could upgrade multiple weapons at once. However, she decided to take her time and carefully choose which one to enhance.

"Miss Sharon, are you alright?" Lucian knelt beside her, untying the ropes around her wrists and ankles before gently lifting her baby from the cargo.

Sharon collapsed to her knees, her body trembling from exhaustion. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice cracking. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she looked up at them. "Thank you for saving us."

Medeia crouched in front of her, brushing dirt off her face. "What happened to you?"

At first, Sharon could only sob, her shoulders shaking. Then, she took a deep, unsteady breath and forced the words out. "A few months ago, Jeanne and I couldn’t find our families, so we took shelter in an abandoned house."

"It was alright at first," she continued, "But when the food ran out ... we had no choice but to hunt."

The problem was, neither of them knew how to hunt, let alone take down a monster. On rare occasions, they managed to catch something small, but most of the time, they starved.

And when the last drop of gasoline was gone, their world shrank into that tiny, crumbling house. There was no way to leave. No way to call for help.

Then, one day, after starving for three days, they spotted a group of bikers stopping near their shelter.

"Jeanne and I planned to steal one of their motorcycles," Sharon said. Her hands trembled as she spoke. "But we failed."

Instead, the bandits caught them. What followed was a nightmare—humiliation, suffering, and the constant, suffocating fear of what they’d do next.

Desperate, Sharon had tried to bargain.

In exchange for their freedom, she promised to lead them to a place filled with supplies—food, fuel, vehicles, even clean clothes.

At first, they laughed in her face, dismissing her as a liar. But when she provided details and described the layout, the stored rations, the weapons they could loot, their doubt turned into greed.

"We’ve been watching your base for the past two months," Sharon admitted, her voice filled with shame. "We saw you stockpiling for winter." She dropped her gaze, her shoulders trembling. "I know what I did was selfish, but I was out of options. I just wanted to come back here. The only way was to lead them to this place."

Medeia said nothing, but a bitter smile tugged at her lips.

The irony was impossible to ignore.

Sharon had once been so determined to leave Red Canyon, convinced she’d never look back. She wanted to escape the painful memories tied to it.

But now? Now she was desperate to return, as if this was where she truly belonged.

In the end, Medeia was right. People like Sharon and Jeanne were never going to survive out there on their own.

But it wasn’t about who was right or wrong. In a world like this, one mistake could mean death.

"Where’s Jeanne?" Medeia finally asked.

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