Apocalypse: becoming the hidden Ruler

A girl putting up a fight? To them, it just made her more of a prize.

The pounding music drowned out her cries for help, and most of the normal patrons didn't notice. Only those with heightened senses—awakeners like Axel and the others—caught what was happening.

But none of the other hunters lifted a finger. They just watched, smirking, waiting to see if things would get interesting.

"You don't wanna drink? Fine. Then maybe you'll…" The white-haired man sneered, pulling her closer.

Before he could finish the threat, Millers stepped in with an easy smile, slipping between the girl and the white-haired bastard.

"Hey man, no problem. I'll drink in her place, alright?"

The girl practically sagged in relief, clutching the back of Millers' jacket. The white-haired man narrowed his eyes and glanced around at his buddies, smirking.

He snapped his fingers. "Cut the music."

The thumping beat suddenly cut off, leaving the whole club in stunned silence. People stopped mid-dance, looking around in confusion, until they spotted the source of the drama.

Axel and Rhea had already noticed and were making their way over.

"You said you'd drink, right?" The white-haired man leaned back lazily on the couch, his cigarette glowing red. He was tall, solid, and around Axel's age—maybe a few years older.

The girls Millers had brought earlier looked visibly nervous but still stood their ground, joining the girl who had been harassed.

The white-haired man waved his hand, and someone rolled over a giant bottle of whiskey—five liters at least.

"You wanna play the hero? Fine," he said with a cold grin. "Finish this bottle, and I'll let her go."

Around them, a few other groups started chiming in, their voices full of mockery. "Damn, Hart, who pissed you off tonight?"

"This'll be fun to watch."

"Yo, dumbass! Just kneel and apologize to Mr. Hart and we'll call it a night!"

It was clear a lot of people knew the white-haired man—Hart—and they were more than happy to pile on.

Rhea tugged gently on Axel's sleeve, whispering, "Should we call the cops?"

Axel gave a faint smile and shook his head. No need. He could already tell—tonight, it wasn't going to end well for Hart.

No matter how powerful his family was, they'd still have to kneel in front of Millers, as a Level 4 Awakener with ties to the Whisper Syndicate.

"Drink, huh? Sure, no problem," Millers said with a lazy smile, strolling toward the white-haired man.

"Good, at least you know your place," the guy chuckled, completely buying Millers' act.

Behind Millers, a few of the girls shot him worried looks, but he just gave them a wink.

Millers casually picked up a bottle from the nearby table.

"Drink up," he said, his tone still easy.

The white-haired man frowned. "Hey, not that one—"

"Drink your fucking mother!"

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

CRASH!

The wine bottle exploded across the white-haired bastard's face. Blood splattered everywhere. He dropped like a sack of bricks, collapsing to his knees.

The entire club froze. No one expected that. Not even Axel.

Millers just laughed and grabbed the nearest girl's hand. "Run!"

The girls snapped out of their daze and took off after him, laughing and shrieking like they were high on adrenaline.

Axel stood there, stunned, still trying to process what just happened.

"Why are you standing there? Move!" Rhea rushed over, grabbed Axel's hand, and yanked him after the others.

Her hand was cool, soft, smooth. Axel didn't have time to think about it—he just let her drag him along.

"Those motherfuckers—get them! Kill them all!" The white-haired man shoved off the people trying to help him and roared like a maniac.

His goons tried to give chase, but after just a few steps, they started tripping over furniture, slipping on spilled drinks, crashing into tables. By the time they reached the door, they were a goddamn mess.

They finally stopped when they reached a small river on the edge of the city.

The cold night wind whipped around them, but everyone was sweating buckets from running. Steam rose from their bodies into the freezing air.

The girls panted hard, their skimpy outfits plastered to their skin with sweat, showing off their slender, delicate frames.

For a moment, they all looked at each other—and then they just burst out laughing.

"Holy shit, that was awesome!"

"I thought we were dead for sure!"

"That was insane! Oh my God!"

Axel shook his head, still speechless. Seriously—why the hell did Millers run? He could've crushed those guys easily.

As the adrenaline started to wear off, and with the booze hitting less hard after all the running, one of the girls suddenly shrieked.

"Shit! The dorm gates! They're gonna lock up—and they're checking IDs tonight!"

"Ahh, are we screwed?"

"Probably! It's already so late!"

The girls panicked in the cold wind, while Axel turned to look at Millers, figuring he'd be quick to use this mess to his advantage.

But Millers just smiled. "Relax. I already called cabs. You'll make it if you hurry."

The girls stared at him, wide-eyed, as if he just pulled off a magic trick. In their emotional high, two of them looked like they were ready to jump into his arms right there.

Girls really didn't stand a chance against a guy who looked good and planned ahead.

Axel watched Millers again, but this outcome still caught him off guard.

Millers, of course, noticed Axel's gaze and just gave him a smug, "told you so" look.

The girls reluctantly exchanged contacts with Millers and the others, giggling and dragging their feet toward the waiting cabs that were honking nearby.

Seeing Axel still standing there like a statue, Millers gave him a shove forward.

Rhea waved her phone in front of Axel's face, her big eyes twinkling.
"Hey, what, you want me to hit you up on WhatsApp first?"

"Oh, right." Axel fumbled out his phone. Her profile picture popped up— a cute cartoon bear.

The girls left reluctantly, heading toward the waiting taxis, still laughing and chattering about how wild and exciting the night had been.

Their laughter lingered in the air, sweet and carefree.

Watching them disappear, Millers sighed dramatically. "Girls really are the most beautiful thing in the world."

The taxi pulled away, the girls waving out the windows until they were out of sight. By the river, it was just Millers, Axel, Kaia, and Rhea now, the cold wind whistling around them.

Millers plopped down onto a stone by the roadside. Axel followed, sitting beside him.

"You're wondering why I ran, aren't you?" Millers asked, grinning.

"Honestly? A little," Axel admitted.

Millers leaned back, hands behind his head. "Look, man, we already live on the edge doing missions, risking our asses every day. When we're finally off the clock, I wanna enjoy life a little. No fighting. No blood. Just something stupid and exciting."

Kaia rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. You were just trying to impress the girls."

"Hey!" Millers cried out, wounded. "I have principles, you know!"

They bickered for a minute, tossing insults like kids fighting over the last piece of candy, but both of them kept sneaking glances at Axel.

Sitting quietly, Axel didn't say much, but the hard lines of his face had finally softened. You could tell—tonight had really loosened him up.

While still arguing half-heartedly, Kaia gave Millers a sneaky thumbs-up behind Axel's back.

Millers stood and clapped Axel on the shoulder. "Alright, bro. Let's head back to the hotel. Tomorrow the results will be out. You're gonna be rolling in cash again."

"I'm gonna walk around a little first," Axel said, standing up and brushing dust from his pants.

"Suit yourself," Millers said easily, exchanging a quick look with Kaia. They could tell—Axel was in a good place tonight. Their little plan worked.

They hopped into a taxi, Millers lounging smugly in the backseat with his arms crossed.

"You may now address me as the Master of Emotional Management," he declared proudly.

Normally Kaia would've roasted him for being so full of himself. Tonight? She just smirked and nodded. "You actually killed it."

Feeling victorious, Millers pulled out his phone and fired off a WeChat message to Vince and Rosaline:

"Mission complete. He's good. No need to worry." He grinned the whole ride back.