Surviving the Apocalypse: All I Want Is to Find a Husband
Chapter 171: Persuade the Soldiers (4)

Chapter 171: Persuade the Soldiers (4)

Ethan’s expression hardened, his hands clenched into fists. "What the hell are you saying?"

His voice was sharp, laced with frustration. "We swore we’d stick together no matter what when we escaped that damn base. Did you think that only applied when things were easy? Letting you die was never an option, Mateo."

"There’s no point in saving me," Mateo gritted his teeth as he fought against the pain tearing through his ruined leg. "Once they cut it off, what good will I be? I won’t be able to fight. I won’t be able to protect anyone. I’ll be useless."

"Oh, for Hell’s sake." Medeia rolled her eyes. "Who put that nonsense in your head?"

She crossed her arms and tilted her head at him. "Losing a leg doesn’t mean losing your worth. Let’s see ... Oh! You could assist doctors. Or what about working in the church? Hell, if that’s too boring for you, our farmers could use an extra pair of hands to check the quality of crops."

Mateo blinked, momentarily stunned into silence.

Then Max’s voice cut through the moment.

"Wait. You have vegetables and fruit!?" His eyes were wide with disbelief, and judging by the way the other soldiers reacted, he wasn’t the only one. "And a church?!"

Medeia gave him an unimpressed look. "Yeah? What about it?"

Max looked like she had just told him she could bring people back from the dead. "Are you serious? We’ve been choking down nothing but ration pills and stale biscuits every single day!"

Medeia’s lips curled into a sly smile. "Oh? So now you’re interested in our little heaven?"

Max scoffed, crossing his arms like a petulant child. "I still don’t trust you."

Medeia leaned back. "Oh, don’t worry, sweetheart. I wouldn’t trust me either."

Medeia ignored Max’s scowl and turned back to Mateo. "Look, your life doesn’t end just because you lose a leg. Sure, we’re technically living through the end of the world, but my argument still stands."

Mateo fell silent, considering her words carefully. His whole life had been about fighting—killing monsters, protecting people. Without a leg, what was left for him? What could he do?

But ... was combat really the only way to protect others? Doctors saved lives. Farmers kept people from starving. Even something as simple as maintaining supplies or strategizing missions was crucial for survival.

Maybe she was right. Maybe his life didn’t have to end just because he couldn’t fight anymore.

"... Are you really helping us out of the kindness of your heart?" Mateo asked at last, his voice quieter this time. "Not because you want to use our skills or force us to work for you?"

Medeia snorted. "Your skills? Oh, boy." She rolled her eyes. "If I were looking for elite soldiers, why would I bother saving a bunch of half-dead boys who couldn’t even lay a finger on me?"

Max bristled instantly. "You’re full of yourself! We’ve been trained since we were kids—special forces training! You wouldn’t stand a chance against us in a real fight."

Medeia tilted her head. "Oh? Is that so?" She leaned forward slightly, as if daring him to prove it. "Maxie, the only reason you’re still breathing despite that lovely little attitude of yours ... is because I’m not in the mood to kill you."

[Malicious Intent Detected! Malicious Intent Detected!]

Medeia clicked her tongue in annoyance.

The other reason was because this damn system would instantly deduct her points if she actually did that.

’Oh, come on. It’s not malicious intent, I’m just teaching these brats some respect.’

’That’s a good thing, right? Teaching kids how to behave?’

The system hesitated for a moment before responding enthusiastically.

[You’re absolutely right, Host! There’s nothing wrong with educating young ones on respecting their elders!]

Medeia’s eye twitched.

’Elders?! Excuse me, I’m TWENTY-FOUR!’

Max was about to say something when a distant noise cut through the tense air. A low, steady rumble—growing louder by the second.

Vehicles.

Medeia’s gaze flicked to the window. The light of headlights cut through the blizzard, illuminating the street in sharp flashes. Three military vehicles were heading straight for them.

"Oh, fantastic," she muttered, "Looks like we’ve got uninvited guests."

Max and Ethan tensed immediately, their bodies snapping into defensive mode, while the other soldiers turned ghostly pale.

"H-how did they find us this fast? It hasn’t even been a full day!"

Lucian didn’t hesitate. "Take off your vests, boots, and bags. Now." His voice was quiet but firm. "They planted trackers in your gear."

One of the soldiers, eyes wide with panic, yanked off his vest and ripped it open with a knife. Just as Lucian had said, a tiny blinking chip was sewn inside the lining.

The room fell silent for a beat. Then—

"How the hell did you know about this?!"

"Not important right now." Lucian barely acknowledged the question. His attention was on the wounded soldiers, he calculated the situation in silence. If he went out there now, he’d be wasting precious time—time that these kids didn’t have.

"You stay here and focus on treating them," Medeia said, pushing herself up from her seat. She rolled her shoulders, cracked her neck, then flexed her fingers like a fighter warming up. "I’ll handle it."

Lucian turned to her fully, his gaze locking onto hers. "Are you sure?" He continued, "There could be more than twenty of them."

Medeia’s lips curled into a slow, confident smile. "One hundred percent sure, honey." She flicked her fingers like she was dusting off a minor inconvenience. "Besides, let’s be real, who in their right mind would send their best troops just to hunt down ten injured soldiers? That’d be a complete waste of resources."

She stepped forward, exuding the kind of energy that made it impossible to doubt her.

Lucian held her gaze for a second longer before exhaling through his nose. "Don’t get reckless."

"Me?" She grinned. "Never."

"Wait! Wait! Are you insane?!" Max shouted, "How the hell are you supposed to fight all of them?! You don’t even have a gun!"

"A gun?" Medeia arched a brow. "Guns are too weak. I prefer something a little more ... traditional."

Without another word, darkness swirled around her fingertips, coiling like living shadows before solidifying into a massive, abyssal sword.

Max took an involuntary step back. "What the—"

Medeia grinned, running her fingers along the blade with something close to affection. "My baby here? She’s way out of your toy guns’ league."