Surviving the Apocalypse: All I Want Is to Find a Husband
Chapter 148: A Bunch of Weakling (1)

Chapter 148: A Bunch of Weakling (1)

Medeia watched the gang of bandits from the top of the canyon wall. Lying flat on her stomach, she pressed the binoculars to her eyes.

"Oh, their faces look scary," she said casually. "The kind of faces that would suit to be corpses."

Lucian, lying beside her, didn’t bother looking at the bandits. Instead, his gaze remained fixed on his girlfriend’s serious expression.

"What if they’re not bandits?" he asked. "Everyone looks becoming bad after struggling to survive the apocalypse. Maybe they’re the survivors the system mentioned."

Medeia lowered her binoculars and turned toward him. "Lucian, honey, listen to me. If you want to know whether someone is good or bad, I’m the best person for the job." She smiled, puffing her chest proudly. "I can smell evil from miles away."

No, actually, she couldn’t. But after dealing with rotten humans for so long, she had developed a talent for reading people in mere seconds.

Lucian was about to reply when something odd caught his eye.

At first, he hadn’t noticed it—hidden beneath a heavy tarp at the back of one of the cargo motorcycles. But when the wind lifted the fabric slightly, he caught a glimpse of a woman lying there.

Not just any woman—a familiar face.

Sharon?

Medeia voiced their same thoughts aloud. "Sharon? That looks like Sharon, doesn’t it? Or am I just imagining things?"

Sharon was a woman they had rescued from the Stormclad Alliance. Back then, she had chosen to leave the base with Jeanne and her baby, hoping to find their lost family.

Since then, no one had known what became of her or the other women who had also left. Honestly, Medeia hadn’t wanted to know because she could already guess that at least half, if not all of them, were probably dead.

But she hadn’t expected to see one of their faces again. Narrowing her eyes, she muttered, "Maybe I’m mistaken—nope, that is definitely Sharon."

Beside her, a baby lay wrapped in ragged cloth, its tiny form barely moving. The child looked frail, its cheeks sunken. Medeia could already tell, Sharon must have run out of food long ago and had been struggling to survive ever since.

"Do you still think they’re not bandits?" Medeia asked Lucian.

Lucian let out a sharp sigh, and she could see the fire of rage burning in his eyes. "Those bastards must have forced Sharon to lead them somewhere they could find supplies."

If that was the case, then Medeia figured Sharon had been with them for at least two months.

These people had likely been watching the Red Star Alliance for a while, waiting patiently for them to gather enough winter supplies before making their move.

"If we let them enter our territory, they’ll fall right into our traps," Medeia said. "I don’t care what happens to the bandits, but Sharon—"

Before she could finish her sentence, Lucian was already on his feet. In a swift motion, he scooped Medeia into his arms and leaped off the high canyon wall.

Medeia’s eyes widened slightly because she hadn’t expected him to react this fast.

He landed right in front of the man leading the group, most likely their leader.

His sudden appearance made them instinctively pull their brakes, and a few even lost their balance, crashing to the ground in shock.

"Fuck!" Their leader—a man with a face covered in scars—roared in anger. The moment his eyes landed on Lucian and Medeia, he barked, "Who the fuck are you?!"

Lucian gently set Medeia down before stepping toward them with a smile on his face. "Shouldn’t I be the one asking that? You’re about to trespass into our territory."

While Lucian kept the ugly man distracted, Medeia silently commanded the system to pull up information on him.

[Check his status ...]

[Name: Dom (The leader of Desert Bandits).]

Age: 49

Ability:

Sand Manipulation (Grade-B) — Effect: allows the user to control and shape sand within 50 meters.]

Medeia hissed at the information. She muttered, "Desert bandits? Do they think of themselves as desert lizards?"

Aside from that, why the hell was his ability only Grade-B despite being their leader? If the leader was this weak, then his underlings were probably even more useless.

His name was Dom, but Medeia guessed it wasn’t short for dominant—it was doom.

Now, Medeia felt bad about devouring the soul of such a weakling.

Lucian could probably wipe them all out with just a snap of his fingers.

But ... as long as they were evil, no matter how useless they were, Medeia would gladly devour their souls.

On the other side, Dom laughed at Lucian. "Your territory? The world is already in ruins, so how can you claim ownership over a piece of land? Do you have the deed for it?"

Lucian kept his smile. "Like you said, the world is in ruins. So why would I need a deed to claim a territory?"

"How dare you—"

"Actually, if you had come with good intentions, we might have offered you shelter for free. But ... it looks like none of you are the type to be satisfied with just a free shelter and a little food," Lucian said, observing them from head to toe.

They were the kind of people who would leech off a place and then eventually force its rightful owners out.

"What makes you judge us like that when we haven’t even gotten to know each other?" Dom asked. "Come on, I know you have plenty of supplies in there. You could at least spare some for us."

"We could," Lucian’s smile widened, but his tone was laced with mockery. "But I don’t want to."

"What do you mean by that?! If our leader asks nicely, you should obey his request!"

Lucian said, "You’re carrying makeshift bombs in your bag, along with a stash of firearms. If I let you in, you’d start shooting at us and blow up our base."

Dom clicked his tongue. "Like I said, we don’t even know each other yet. So why are you treating us like this?"

"I don’t need to know you any better." Medeia finally spoke, stepping forward to stand beside Lucian. "Just by looking at your face, I can see the darkness clinging to you like a stench."

Dom scoffed. "What are you, a shaman? Dark aura? Everyone’s got a little darkness in them these days."

"And what’s with that face?" Dom grinned, his eyes roaming over her body. "I haven’t seen a woman this beautiful in years. Why don’t you come with us? We’ll make sure to use your body every day and give you a taste of heaven."

Lucian clenched his jaw the moment those filthy words left Dom’s mouth. His voice was sharp as a blade when he warned, "Say that one more time, and I’ll cut out your tongue."

Dom scoffed. "Why so angry? Is she your bitch or something?"

Just as Lucian was about to raise a finger, Medeia caught his hand and shook her head.

"Oh, is the pretty lady afraid of violence? Stopping her man from fighting?"

Medeia cracked her neck in frustration. "Why do weak men always babble too much?" She stepped forward, her voice calm but fierce. "How about a deal? Let the woman and the baby go, and I’ll let you leave unharmed."

"A woman and a baby?" Dom gestured to one of his men, who dragged Sharon out of the cargo.

Her mouth was gagged with cloth, and her wrists and ankles were bound with rope. Tears welled in her eyes the moment she saw Medeia, silently begging for help.

"You mean her? She’s nothing special. But if you’re willing to come with us instead, I’ll gladly let her go."

Medeia smiled. "Which one do you prefer? Left or right?"

Dom frowned. "What the hell are you talking about? Are you high? Lef—"

Before he could finish, Medeia’s fist slammed into his left cheek, sending him staggering back.

Dom staggered back, clutching his face where Medeia’s punch had landed. His lips curled into a snarl, and with a sharp movement, he slammed his palm against the ground.

The dry earth trembled beneath their feet as golden-brown sand surged into the air, twisting and swirling like a living tornado.

The tornado rushed toward Medeia with terrifying speed.

Lucian tensed beside her, ready to step in, but Medeia raised a hand, stopping him. "Relax," she said, tilting her head slightly. "I’ve got this."

[Do you want to use your demonic form, Host?]

Medeia scoffed. "Nah, these boys aren’t even worthy of seeing my sword."

As Dom’s sandstorm roared toward her, Medeia exhaled slowly. In the blink of an eye, droplets of water formed, swirling between her fingers. Then, like threads weaving through fabric, the water surged forward, intertwining with the sand.

The moment they met, the storm lost its solid form. The deadly grains turned sluggish, clumping together into nothing more than damp mud that splattered harmlessly onto the ground.

Dom’s expression shifted from anger to confusion. "What the hell—?!"