Apocalypse: becoming the hidden Ruler

He waddled up to Crowe, flashing a greasy smile. "Mr. Crowe," he said, bowing slightly, "I'm honored to say we fulfilled our mission—"

CRACK.

Crowe didn't say a word. Just turned and backhanded him so hard that blood sprayed mid-air. The man spun and slammed to the ground, coughing and wheezing as he struggled to get back up.

"Shut the fuck up," Crowe growled. "Can't you see I'm in the middle of something?"

The entire yard went dead silent.

Declan swallowed hard. Even the teams that made it back were getting hit? Then what the hell was going to happen to the ones who failed?

"Goddammit, all fucking useless!" Crowe roared, his voice gravelly and full of venom.

Right then, the low, ragged sputter of another truck echoed from outside the compound. But this engine didn't sound like the others — it wheezed like a dying animal, coughing black smoke and groaning with each rotation of its battered wheels.

Everyone turned.

The truck that crawled through the gates looked like it had clawed its way out of a warzone — scorched paint, mangled frame, windshield shattered into fine dust.

And behind the wheel was...

"Ax... Axel?!" Declan's voice cracked. His blood ran cold. "What the hell—how?!"

Grayson, beside him, narrowed his eyes and slowly shook his head in disbelief.

Crowe squinted at the truck, brows tightening. The ones who made it back earlier had been lucky, probably dodging the ambush entirely. But this?

This kid should've been dead. Every single combat unit had been wiped out.

So what was this? He broke his goddamn truck?

Crowe stalked toward the vehicle in silence, his face like stone. He circled the wreck, inspecting the damage — and then froze when he reached the cargo bay.

There was a massive hole punched into it. The kind his robots were programmed to make when they deployed to engage enemies.

His eyes narrowed. That meant Axel had been hit. But somehow, he was still alive.

"Dr. Crowe," Axel said, hopping out of the cab, looking worse for wear but still standing. "I'm really sorry about the truck. I ran into a group of robbers. Took some hits, but... I managed to bring the goods back."

Crowe didn't speak.

He just shoved past him and yanked the water tank-sized container from the truck bed. Prying open the lid, he leaned in, sniffed once — and a slow, wheezing laugh spilled out of his chest.

It sounded more like someone sobbing than laughing. And it was terrifying.

Everyone watching from the yard took a collective step back.

"Perfect... fucking perfect," Crowe rasped, still chuckling, voice full of something between awe and madness. "Whose man is these?"

Declan's legs nearly gave out. He stood up like a man on trial. "Uh... mine. He's... he's mine, sir."

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Grayson scooted farther away, keeping his head down.

Crowe grinned — a thin, wolfish thing. "Good. Your gang's share just went up fivefold. And this one stays with me."

Declan blinked. "Wait—seriously? Thank you, Mr. Crowe! Thank you!"

It took a moment for the rest of them to piece it together. The drivers who made it back earlier... they must've returned with decoy cargo.

The real shipment — the real product — was the one Axel had just delivered.

Crowe glanced over at the other gang leaders. "All your guys are dead. Ambushed. I'll compensate you. Now get lost."

"Wait—dead?!" someone gasped, and the yard fell silent again.

Only four survivors out of all the convoys?

And this kid — Axel — not only lived through it, but brought back the only real cargo?

The way they looked at him changed completely.

Declan's face was practically glowing. He looked like he'd just won the goddamn lottery. "Holy shit, I knew it! I knew taking him in was the right call!"

Five times the share? That kind of boost would put Blackstone's operation in the rearview. He'd be untouchable.

Crowe didn't stop there. Aside from Axel, he kept the other three survivors as well.

Axel wasn't thrilled about that part. He had no intention of sticking around. Once the selection trials were done, he planned to ghost this place — disappear, no notice, no goodbyes.

But in Crowe's world, walking away wasn't that simple.

Still, something told Axel that Whisper Syndicate's real target might just be standing right in front of him.

So for now... he'd stay.

Crowe pulled Axel aside and asked for the full story. When he heard how Axel had faked his death, then slipped out while the fight raged, the old man actually smiled.

"Smart," he muttered. "That's how I used to do it back in the day."

He brought the four survivors together and pointed to the large building behind him.

"None of you go near the lab. Get close and you'll trip the defense systems — they'll kill you without warning."

Then he gestured to the warehouse beside it.

"Plenty of materials in there. The bots will do the grunt work if you give them the right instructions. Find a place to sleep tonight."

He turned to leave, then paused.

"Oh — and the rest of you, listen to Axel. From now on, he's in charge of you. And if I catch anyone sneaking near my lab again....."

Just then, a car honked outside the gate.

Crowe, suddenly perked up and jogged to the entrance.

A tall blonde woman stepped inside with a confident stride. She wore sleek leather boots that showed off long, toned legs, and the cut of her outfit was both elegant and razor-sharp.

"Ms. Caroline, this way please," Crowe said quickly, his tone practically groveling.

The three men standing with Axel were frozen in place. On one hand, the woman's appearance was simply stunning — all curves, confidence, and cold glamour. But more than that, the way Crowe — that ruthless, snarling bastard — bent over backwards for her had them rattled.

Who the hell was she?

"We'll talk here. I don't have time to waste," Caroline said. Her voice was low, smoky, and undeniably seductive — but with an icy bite.

She scanned the area and noticed Axel and the others watching her.

"They're just new recruits. Should I have them clear out?" Crowe asked quickly, his posture practically folded in half.

"It's fine," Caroline said with a casual flick of her hand. "They're just ants."

She caught sight of the battered truck nearby and frowned. "Looks like something went sideways?"

Crowe gave a bitter sigh. "More than sideways. I had the perfect setup — was gonna wipe them all out in one strike — but things fell apart."

"What a waste." Her tone sharpened, pure disgust curling off her tongue.

Crowe rushed to defend himself. "They weren't locals — it was an outside force. Bigger than we expected."

Caroline arched an eyebrow. "If it's not Deep Sea Pharmaceuticals, it's Whisper Syndicate. Pick your poison."

Crowe paled. "Whisper—?" His breath caught. He hadn't forgotten the last time they came for him — the days of being hunted, the close calls, the way he barely escaped with his life.

But Deep Sea Pharmaceuticals? That was another level of nightmare.

Caroline caught the fear in his face and couldn't hide her contempt. "What are you so afraid of? You've been hiding in this city like some old turtle for years. As long as you're still in Saka District, and Lord Morris is around, no one's laying a finger on you."

Her words worked like a tranquilizer. Crowe's face lit up with grim relief. He showed a crooked, metallic grin — all gold and steel teeth — and chuckled darkly.

"I don't care how you do it," she continued, "but the supply of Exotic Beast Pill can't stop. If materials run dry, I'll send someone to fetch them myself."

Crowe panicked. "No, no need for that." The very idea of her — her — lowering herself to do grunt work was terrifying. Caroline wasn't just any fixer; she was a peak-level Awakened, top-tier Level 5, and more importantly, Morris's personal envoy. He'd rather chew glass than inconvenience her.