Apocalypse King: Recruiting S-Tier Beauties With My Ruler System Chapter 101: Brute Zombie Line Backers Vs Arrogant Prick

John Wang’s POV

March 18, 20xx — 04:58 AM

Longwan University — East Sector, Upper Courtyard

—

–Click–

When I flicked my wrist, the red-hot chambers on my gauntlets hissed softly. Smoke curled out.

Nothing ca out.

"...Hmm?"

I paused, blinking once.

’What happened?’

A blue screen appeared in the corner of my vision, cool and indifferent.

[Remaining Shell Count: 0]

[Auto-Reload in 10 seconds]

[Shell Stockpile Depleted]

[Please Replenish]

"...Shit."

I hadn’t noticed how many I’d burned through. I shot eight shells every ten seconds. The last ten seconds had blurred into a ss of limbs, blood, and shattered bones.

The weight in my arms didn’t change.

The gauntlets were still warm, still humming with Earth Qi. But there was no surge, no satisfying chamber-fire from the shotgun cores.

I barely had ti to react before the sound changed. Not a growl. Not a scream. The sound of four bodies shifting at once — weight compressing stone, muscle snapping into motion, air breaking under charging mass.

The Brutes stepped forward together.

Big. Heavy. Broad-shouldered. Their skin had started to calcify in plates around their joints and torsos, but I could still make out the shredded varsity jackets clinging to their torsos. One still had a cracked helt dangling off its ear.

Federation football players. Linbei’s old team.

It clicked.

They weren’t just strong.

They rembered.

"Linebackers..."

They moved together — a line of muscle and coordination, each one snapping into formation like they were preparing to blitz through a wall. No hesitation. No wasted steps.

"Shit."

I backpedalled once and dropped into a low stance.

My gauntlets humd faintly. Qi still surged through the internal cores. The blades shimred a dull gold, even without shells.

I didn’t need slugs to fight.

But they would’ve helped.

The four Brutes charged.

Their timing was perfect — one low, two flanking, one straight at with arms spread like he ant to tackle.

And he probably did.

I kicked off the ground sideways.

The courtyard cracked behind — a concussive boom as the first Brute hit where I’d been standing, both feet tearing through concrete like it was soft ice.

With a brief jumped, I avoided the first zombie, tapping the ground.

I rushed towards the left.

The one on the left lunged in next. I t the zombie mid-step, planted my feet, and turned with a rising uppercut. My gauntlet blade scraped across his collarbone, dug in deep, and popped free with a wet sound.

He staggered back.

Not dead.

Another ca charging in — arms spread wide like he thought I couldn’t drop him, too.

I ducked and drove my shoulder into his gut, then twisted and let his montum lift him half off the ground.

I threw him sideways into the next Brute.

They crashed together — a ss of limbs, roars, and toppling muscle.

I didn’t wait.

I surged forward and closed in on the one that flinched from my blade.

He raised a massive arm to swing—

I slipped inside the arc and drove my knee up into his sternum.

He wheezed.

Then I grabbed the back of his neck with both gauntlets and yanked him down as my forehead ca up.

Skull t skull.

His split first.

The Brute collapsed backwards in a heap — his head lolling at a crooked angle, neck spine snapped sowhere beneath the ruined base of his skull. His limbs twitched, then went still. The wet pop of his knees hitting pavent followed a half-second later.

[Brute-Type — Killed | ZKP 50]

I didn’t have ti to check the system’s ssage.

The air shifted again behind .

Too fast.

I ducked out of instinct — felt the wind shear past my neck as another Brute’s arm blurred over my head, shoulder-first. His full weight followed, but I was already moving—rolling with the dodge, pivoting under him as his montum carried him forward.

He stumbled, just enough.

I hooked my heel around his calf and yanked sideways.

He dropped with a thunderous crunch — ribs hitting the ground first, then chest, then his skull bounced off the stone.

I didn’t stop there.

I dropped both fists down on the back of his head.

Once.

Twice.

CRACK.

My left gauntlet blade punched straight through the base of his skull on the second hit — sliding in with a sick crunch like slamming tal through a waterlon rind.

The body convulsed once, hard, then sagged.

[Brute-Type — Killed | ZKP 50]

’Use the earned ZKP!’

[Auto-Conversion Preference Set]

[Shell Type: Slug]

[Trigger Swap: Target Classification Detected]

[Stage-2, Brute-Type: Switching to Slug]

[Shell Stockpile: 40 Shells]

[Conversion Complete — Resources Consud]

[ZKP: -400]

Still no shells. Eight more seconds.

Too slow.

I turned—

—and caught a fist to the ribs.

My body flung back, smashing against a stone wall, bouncing several tis... knocking the breath from my lungs.

Pain arced up my side like sothing tore.

I gritted my teeth, let the impact spin with the force, and absorbed it into a sideways roll across the ground. Debris scraped my back raw. I caught myself on one elbow and surged back to my feet in a single breath.

The third Brute — helted, shoulder dislocated — was already charging again, eyes wild. He didn’t faint. Didn’t hesitate.

Just rage.

"Co on, then," I growled.

He lunged.

I didn’t back down.

I stepped in at the last second and snapped my elbow up into the underside of his jaw — again. The sa weak point. Bone t alloy. Teeth flew.

He reeled back, stunned.

And I caught him by the waist and lifted.

Not far — maybe half a foot.

But I turned with him in the air and slamd him down onto the courtyard tiles.

Concrete cracked beneath the impact. His skull bounced once. Twice.

Then I dropped to one knee and buried my blade through the side of his throat.

The helt caught part of it, deflected the edge. The point jamd.

I gritted my teeth and pressed harder.

Earth Qi surged down my arms — not gentle this ti. Not smooth. It snarled through my bones like a drill made of gravel.

The blade hissed gold.

And punched through the gap in his collar.

The twitching stopped.

[Brute-Type — Killed | ZKP 50]

Three down.

One left.

A roar ca from behind — heavy, loud, close.

Boom.

Too close.

I spun, dropped, and raised my arms in reflex as the last Brute barrelled toward with both fists overhead.

He brought them down together like a hamr.

I crossed my gauntlets just in ti.

CRASH.

The blow sent skidding backwards — boots dragging furrows in the cracked stone. My forearms scread. The pavent beneath split outward in a spiderweb.

My back hit the wall of the courtyard with a heavy thud.

I tasted blood.

Spat once. "Big mistake."

The Brute let out a rattling exhale and charged again — head down, arms pumping, legs hamring into the stone like pistons.

This one wasn’t just stronger.

He was faster.

Five tres.

Three.

Two.

"—Shells loaded," the system whispered.

[Reload Complete — 8x Shells Available]

[Auto-Selected: Slug Round — Brute-Type Detected]

I didn’t think.

I snapped my right hand forward and focused.

BOOM.

The recoil slamd up my arm — a thunderclap burst of Qi and shrapnel. Eight slugs the size of my thumb exploded from the chamber.

It hit the Brute centre of his chest — just above the sternum — and blew a fist-sized hole through his chest.

A massive burst of flas exploded, tearing the zombie to pieces.

Dead

One foot lifted. Hovered in the air.

Then he dropped.

Hard.

Didn’t move again.

[Brute-Type — Killed | ZKP 50]

I stood there for a mont, chest rising, arms shaking from the pressure. Smoke drifted off my forearms, curling into the faint morning light.

Then I smiled.

"Now we’re even."

Four golden orbs flickered in my hands before I tossed them into the inventory system along with the green and another gold orb from before.

The muscles in my body tensed, convulsing as I stepped closer to the command type.

Though it tried to flee, one of the stray slugs that hit the brute tore the fucker’s legs off and left it bleeding out.

I walked over, both hands in my pockets, the freakish zombie making strange sounds...

"What’s up? Calling so backup?"

My voice sounded hoarse, dry, and a little cool...

Like those movie announcers in the late ’90s.

The Command-Type’s tendrils writhed weakly, its eyes flickering with a dim, eerie light. It reached out, grasping at the air as if trying to summon aid that would never co.

I stopped a few feet away, tilting my head as I looked down at the pitiful creature.

"You know," I said, "for all your mind gas and puppet shows, you’re nothing without your toys."

It gurgled, a wet, choking sound that might have been a laugh or a sob.

I raised my gauntlet, the blade gleaming faintly in the morning light.

"Ti to cut the strings."

With a swift motion, I drove the blade down, piercing the Command-Type’s skull. It convulsed once, then lay still.

[Command-Type — Killed | ZKP 100]

I stood there, panting, the adrenaline slowly fading from my system.

A small black orb rolled across the ground, smoking as it tapped against my boot.

The courtyard was silent, the distant cries of the undead now much further away, as if they were brought here by this little fuck.

"Peh!"

I spat on the ground, but... the spit was red. Damn. Suddenly, my legs gave out beneath . I collapsed, the world spinning around . A sweet scent filled my nose as soone’s arms caught before I hit the ground.

"John!" Shen Yifei sounded concerned, with that shaky voice of hers. I looked up at her, a weak smile on my lips.

"Hey... fancy eting you here."

She shook her head, tears in her eyes.

"You idiot," she whispered. "You could have died."

My eyes refused to stay open.

Heavy and sore, the darkness pulling under.

But even as I lost consciousness.

I couldn’t help but think... that she looked pretty when she cried.

"I knew you couldn’t leave alone..."