Chapter 575 She Will Kill You
Although Patrick and the others near the entrance couldn’t see what was unfolding outside, the sounds of chaos echoed clearly through the walls.
Suddenly, Patrick shouted, “Hurry! Open the door for them!”
The moment Dorian Veynor and his squad pushed inside and scanned the room’s layout, a voice called urgently from farther ahead.
“Over here–get in now!”
Patrick and his men cracked the door open, straining against the relentless push of the zombies, and signaled for the survivors outside to move quickly.
Catching sight of the struggle, Dorian barked, “Everyone, inside–now!”
He commanded his team to unleash their full ability at once.
In an instant, the chamber lit up with surging energy–metal, plant, water, fire, and earth collided in a storm of power. Even rarer forces–lightning, ice, and mental manipulation–flared with intensity.
The combined assault tore through the cluster of zombies blocking the way, clearing a path for the group to rush inside.
“Arghhh!”
“Bang!”
“Urghhhh!”
Outside, a massive horde–hundreds of zombies they had deliberately drawn over–swarmed and surrounded the entire building.
With a heavy slam, the door sealed shut once more.
Dorian and his fighters staggered in, gasping for breath, sweat and exhaustion etched across their faces.
“So, it’s you, Dorian!” Patrick immediately recognized him and called out with enthusiasm.
Dorian–his name was well–known among the three thousand contestants.
Rumor had it, he possessed not one but three abilities–lightning, water, and speed.
On top of that, he was charismatic, approachable, and excellent at winning people over. His popularity among the competitors was undeniable.
Naturally, Patrick greeted him warmly.
“Patrick,” Dorian acknowledged with a nod. He knew Patrick as well–after all, the stronger contenders on the island were at least aware of each other, even if they hadn’t interacted much before.
“Thanks for letting us in.”
“We’re all just trying to survive,” Patrick replied. “Helping each other is the least we can do.”
༠:!
Dorian murmured his thanks, then casually scanned the room, silently counting how many people Patrick had gathered. His eyes eventually landed on the group in the center of the living room–seven or eight more individuals.
But when his gaze fell on Theresa-
His expression changed instantly.
Woah! She’s stunning!
In this apocalyptic wasteland where women were scarce, he had never come across someone so breathtaking.
Her bright eyes, flawless teeth, and pale, delicate skin set her apart. She was dressed in a combat suit that highlighted her sharp, confident presence. In the middle of a grim and battered world, she looked impossibly fresh and radiant–like a diamond gleaming among rubble. One couldn’t help but be drawn to
her.
She’s absolutely gorgeous.
“Dorian!” A woman’s irritated voice behind him snapped him back to reality.
He blinked, but his eyes lingered on Theresa. “Patrick, is she with your team? You’ve got some real luck bringing in someone like her.” His tone was openly envious.
It seemed obvious to him that a woman that beautiful would only survive under the protection of strong
allies.
Patrick cleared his throat quickly. “She’s not one of ours. That’s another team.”
“Another team?” Dorian finally tore his gaze away from Theresa, glancing at the others.
None of them particularly stood out–except for the mysterious man wearing an eye mask. Still, Dorian didn’t recognize any of them.
“You’re newcomers,” Theresa’s voice cut through the tension. She addressed the fifteen or sixteen arrivals before her. “The rules are the same. Stay behind the cabinets. Cross the line, and you’re dead.”
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