Strongest Deliveryman In The Apocalypse

The convoy arrived like a river of steel and desperation.

Dozens of reinforced trucks and buses rolled into view, their exteriors patched with welded armor plates and scavenged scraps of old-world vehicles. Tarpaulin covers flapped in the dusty wind, hiding the trembling faces of evacuees within.

Some vehicles bore the proud insignia of the Rider Association—polished shields and spear motifs emblazoned on their sides—while others were plain, carrying only the weight of their passengers' fear.

To Sobin, it looked less like a military escort and more like a moving village: a caravan of survival, dragging along everything from food crates to makeshift beds, even children's toys dangling from the sides of carts.

For a fleeting moment, he felt sadness.

He eased Bessie to the side of the road, watching the lead truck grind to a halt. Dust swirled around the convoy like a curtain. His stomach knotted.

'Alright, Sobin. Time to be polite. These are struggling families who have been through a lot…' He told himself. 'No funny business, no stupid jokes, just… normal.'

He climbed down from Bessie's cab and straightened his jacket.

"Hello!" he called, lifting a hand with what he hoped was a friendly smile. "Name's Sobin. I'm just—"

"Stop where you are."

The voice cracked like a whip.

Two Riders stepped forward, their dark armor gleaming under the pale sun. Spears in hand, rifles slung across their backs.

One raised a hand, signaling the others.

Within moments, half a dozen soldiers had their weapons trained on him.

Sobin froze, hand still half-raised. "…That's, uh, a very strong hello."

The lead Rider's eyes narrowed beneath his helmet.

"You fit the description. Sobin E-Rank Rider. You are a fugitive!"

"E-eh?"

"Step away from the vehicle. Hands where I can see them."

The words hit harder than any bullet.

"Wait. Fugitive? That—there must be some mistake." Sobin's voice cracked despite himself. "I haven't—look, I've barely been here! You think I'd have time to commit crimes already?"

They didn't answer. Two more Riders circled behind him, forming a cage of steel and suspicion.

A shadow detached itself from Bessie.

A man in worn leather armor, hair slicked back with grease, a smirk plastered on his face like it had been waiting all day.

—Gary.

"Well, well," Gary drawled, stepping forward with arms spread wide. "Looks like the big fish walked right into the net." He tapped the sole of his foot against the ground and let out a mocking laugh. "Didn't even need to lift a finger. Sobin, Sobin, Sobin… you really are too easy."

Sobin's heart plummeted—he had been betrayed!

"You?" he asked quietly. His voice was calm, but his chest burned. "You knew about this? Why didn't you tell me anything? What is this betrayal?"

Gary tilted his head, feigning innocence.

"Betrayal? No, no, don't make it sound so ugly. I helped the Riders enforce justice. And if there's a nice bounty in it for me, well…" He grinned, all teeth. "That's just destiny rewarding loyalty."

Sobin clenched his jaw.

He wanted to argue, to explain, but what good were words when every spear in sight was pointed his way? His fingers twitched at his side, aching to summon steel, yet his instincts whispered a single truth: don't fight.

Not here.

Not when there were civilians who depended on these Riders for safety.

Slowly, he raised his hands.

"Fine. Do what you have to."

The Riders wasted no time.

They seized his weapons, patting down every inch of his clothing, and locked manacles around his wrists.

Sobin let them, jaw tight, eyes fixed on the ground.

When they tried to take his truck, however, he stiffened.

"Bessie stays safe," he said firmly. His voice cracked with something dangerously close to pleading. "You want to drag me off? Fine. But take care of her. She's all I've got."

The lead Rider gave him a long look.

Then he nodded.

"The vehicle will remain with the convoy until judgment is passed."

It wasn't a promise, not really. But it was enough.

Sobin was shoved toward a reinforced transport, its doors heavy as vault steel. He stumbled once, catching himself before he fell. From the corner of his eye, he saw Gary leaning lazily against his truck, smiling that same insufferable smile.

"Guess I'll be riding with you folks till we reach base," Gary said to the Riders, tone casual, smug. "Gotta make sure I get what's owed, after all."

Sobin's fists tightened around the chains.

He wanted to spit a curse, wanted to scream—but he stayed silent. His dignity was all he had left, and he refused to let Gary steal even that.

Inside the cell-like transport, Sobin sat in the corner, staring at the faint reflection of his own weary face in the steel walls.

His thoughts spiraled.

'Wanted. Fugitive. How? For what?'

He replayed his short time in this world over and over, searching for mistakes.

He'd saved people, fought monsters, traded fairly—well, mostly fairly. Sure, he'd cut corners by taking up a few missions at once, but crimes? No. He never did anything illegal.

Unless… unless the real crime was simply existing without a record!

'Damnit… I was afraid this would catch up to me eventually. Did they investigate my past, after all?'

If they did, it all made sense!

After all, he was nothing but a ghost in this world due to his Transmigration from Earth.

The convoy rumbled forward.

Children's cries seeped faintly through the steel, punctuated by the bark of Riders giving orders.

Sobin closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the cold wall.

He thought of Bessie, standing alone in the dust, and something inside him cracked.

'What should I do now?'

The journey continued in tense silence.

Gary kept a considerable distance from the transport, trying his best to avoid Sobin, who was trapped in his vehicle like a caged animal. He also stayed away from Bessie and simply hitched a ride with one of the officials.

Sobin could see Gary's shadow from the side of his moving prison, but ignored him.

At least, he tried to.

Then—

RUMBLE!

—Without warning, the earth screamed.

The ground beneath the convoy shuddered, splitting with a sound like the tearing of the sky itself. Horses panicked, engines coughed, and evacuees shrieked as wagons jolted off-balance.

A hot, blinding light erupted from the fissure, washing the world in impossible brilliance.

Sobin lurched forward, chains clattering, eyes straining against the light. Through the narrow slit, he glimpsed the impossible.

A figure rose from the earth.

Wings, vast and shimmering, stretched toward the heavens—feathers like shards of broken glass, gleaming with chaotic energy. Its form was like a chimera, a distorted creature with forbidden beauty twisted into terror.

The air bent around it, every heartbeat hammering like war drums.

The Riders froze.

Even Gary's smug expression was shattered, replaced by pale disbelief.

"A—A-Rank…" someone stammered outside. "A-Rank Chaos Angel…"

The monster raised its face to the sky, and the world seemed to hold its breath.

Then it screamed.

The sound shattered windows, ruptured ears, and carved terror into every soul present.

Inside his steel cage, Sobin's breath caught. His heart pounded not with fear, but with the sharp, bitter taste of inevitability.

'Another Monster attack, huh? I hope everyone's okay…' For Sobin, who was chained and accused, there was nothing to do but watch.

—Watch as the Chaos Angel spread its wings.

And the wasteland trembled.