Chapter 74: Ghouls Strike
Some time later, on the outskirts of the city...
The atmosphere at the Butcher Gang’s camp was unlike any other survivor camp. They lived in and around a warehouse.
Most of the gang members used to work there as physical laborers. When the monsters first appeared, they stayed back and defended the place because, first, it was stacked with all sorts of things.
They had food, some cold weapons, and lots of machines that still functioned. However, over the year, most of that stuff was scrapped and turned into barriers, barbed wire, and small outposts that now surrounded the building.
Inside the warehouse, a large fire burned inside a metal drum. Over a dozen men were around it, all bare-chested and carrying butcher knives.
The biggest and meanest of them sat on an old metal crate like it was a throne. Since he resembled a certain wrestler, everyone just called him Brock.
A barely clothed woman sat on his lap, squirming as his blood-stained hands roamed freely over her breasts and between her legs.
She tried to hold back her moans, but soft, broken sounds still escaped her lips along with tears as her eyes kept glancing sideways.
The chopped corpse of a man was there. It had been the woman’s partner who got lured by the butcher gang and was now going to fill their stomachs.
The men around the fire paid no attention to the woman. They were used to the sight. Besides, it was her first night there. The boss would enjoy her first, then everyone will get a turn soon enough.
Perhaps the thought of torturing the woman excited her, and they laughed while others made crude jokes while tearing into chunks of roasted human flesh.
Just then, a thin, nervous-looking man hurried over from a room inside the warehouse. He was the resident doctor and the only male outsider they allowed to live amongst them.
"Boss..." he whispered.
Brock didn’t even look up. His hand kept squeezing the woman’s ass.
"Spit it out!" he growled.
The thin man swallowed hard before speaking.
"Boss... one of the girls just died. Your younger brother and his crew took turns on her all night. She couldn’t handle it... and stopped breathing a few minutes ago."
Brock finally lifted his head. He scoffed loudly, not looking the least bit bothered.
"So what? Bitches break easily. Tell my brother to be more careful next time, or I’ll give him a proper beating myself," he said, looking over the girl in his arms. "Besides, we can always find more girls. Plenty of them running around these ruins looking for shelter, hehe."
He waved his hand dismissively at the doctor and went back to groping the woman on his lap. The doctor didn’t linger for long and hurriedly left.
The woman might have died, but she was still useful.
I should get the young ones to scavenge her body for medicines.
The doctor, while afraid of the butchers, had a good relationship with a few of them. The group led by the twins was like a family to him. They were also the reason Brock didn’t dare hit him.
After all, Brock was their leader only in name. The true strength of the group was the twins’ squad.
Unfortunately, they were barely around, which gave Brock the chance to do as he pleased.
The man had barely made it to his door when a gunshot rang through the air. Then another. Within seconds, no one even knew how many bullets had been fired.
Brock shoved the woman off his lap and jumped to his feet. The oversized cleaver strapped to his waist bounced heavily against his thigh.
"What the hell are those fools doing!?" he yelled.
Bullets were difficult to come by. Even those handcrafted ones. Yet, instead of using their blades, those idiots were shooting guns?
The men around him quickly grabbed their weapons and rushed towards the entrance. Brock charged after them.
However, as they got closer to the outpost, the gunshots stopped. They thought the threat had been dealt with until they noticed four hulking beasts standing there.
Their bodies were riddled with holes, and a couple of them even had knives stuck into their bodies. Yet, the creatures were acting like it was nothing.
As for the people who had the misfortune of coming across the monsters... they were on the ground, dead.
"What are these beasts...?" Brock mumbled.
His voice was barely loud enough for the men next to him to hear, yet the monsters heard him loud and clear.
Their heads turned slowly toward the rushing gang members, only then did they notice the empty eye sockets of the creatures. It was like someone had poked their eyes out.
Brock had been cursing the now-dead guards for wasting bullets. But the moment those monsters turned their heads toward him, he forgot all about that.
"Shoot them! Shoot those fucking things!" he yelled, shoving others in front of him.
However, before anyone could react, the ghouls lunged at the corpses next to their feet. Instead of attacking the newcomers, they grabbed as many corpses as they could carry and ran back into the darkness.
Watching them run, Brock’s valor returned, and he immediately chased after. Well, that’s what he wanted others to think.
"What were those things?" he turned and asked the group.
However, they were as clueless as he was. At first glance, they looked like hobgoblins, but their behavior didn’t check out.
For starters, hobgoblins were known to be territorial and would never work together.
Then there was the case of their poked eyes. They wouldn’t willingly poke their eyes out just to strike fear in others. Their muscular bodies were more than enough for it.
And last, they showed no pain. Even if most bullets couldn’t kill them, the monsters would feel pain. Yet the creatures they saw didn’t show any pain at all. If they were in so much pain, they wouldn’t lift five to seven corpses on their shoulders and run.
"...contact the twins," Brock mumbled. "We would need their—"
He couldn’t even complete his words before something fell in front of him with a thud. Brock looked down to see... his brother’s severed head staring back at him.
"...argh!" he screamed, lunging towards the head.
Brock’s men turned around to see a woman in tattered clothes walking towards them.
It was one of the other girls they had captured, but something about her seemed different. She was covered in blood and holding a strange sword.
"This world or that world... in all the worlds you flithy men remain the same," she mumbled, pointing her blade towards Brock. "Are you their king?"