Apocalypse: SSS-Rank Monster Breeder

The Iron Gate Stand-Off

​CHAPTER 12:

​The air pressure dropped dramatically as Mark stepped off the non-functional escalators and back into the ground floor promenade. The distant, panicked shouting of humans grew louder with every step. Through [Shared Senses], Mark didn't even need to look out the windows; he could see the entire southern loading dock layout perfectly through Zephyr's aerial viewpoint.

​Down at the loading dock bays, the heavy iron roll-up doors were partially raised. A group of ten people dressed in tactical combat gear, cargo pants, and leather jackets stood just outside the perimeter line. Three held low-caliber hunting rifles, while their leader stood casually at the front, tossing a military combat knife into the air and catching it by the hilt.

​[TARGET IDENTIFIED]

​Name: Gideon Cross

​Class: Shadow Assassin

​Level: 3

​Combat Power: 115

​Leaderboard Status: Rank 2 (Sector 4)

​Mr. Shola was cowering behind a stacked pile of wooden shipping crates, his hands shaking so violently that the B-Rank Blazing Blade fire on his metal pipe kept sputtering out like a dying candle.

​"L-Lord Mark!" he whimpered through the mental link, his voice cracking. "They... they just marched right past our scout lines! They said if we don't open the main inventory vaults and hand over fifty percent of our canned food, they’ll smoke us out!"

​Mark walked smoothly past the line of terrified shoppers, his hands still tucked into his pockets. Shadow walked at his left hip, his midnight-black fur bristling with dark sparks, while Sly slithered quietly along the shadow of the structural columns, his eighteen-foot iron-plated body invisible to the outsiders.

​"You're making a lot of noise for someone who is only second place, Gideon," Mark said, his voice cutting clearly through the damp air of the loading dock.

​Gideon Cross froze, catching his knife mid-air. He looked up, his sharp eyes narrowing as he scanned Mark from head to toe. When his gaze drifted to the massive, glowing red eyes of Shadow standing right beside Mark, a flicker of genuine caution crossed his face. But his arrogance quickly took back over as he checked his interface screen, comparing the numbers.

​"So, you're Mark," Gideon sneered, taking a step across the iron threshold of the dock. "The lucky bastard who got a level 5 clear on the area boss. I'll admit, that giant wolf looks impressive. But a Beast Master is just a squishy summoner behind the scenes. If my snipers take your head off before you can give a command, your pets will turn back into wild meat."

​The ten rogue hunters behind Gideon raised their rifles, aiming their iron sights directly at Mark's chest.

​"I’m giving you one chance, kid," Gideon said, pointing his knife toward the grocery store storage doors behind the counter. "We know this mall has enough non-perishable food to feed an entire sector for months. Hand over the keys to the warehouse, give me that spatial ring on your finger, and we'll let you keep your little pet shop empire. Refuse... and my squad will turn this whole floor into a graveyard."

​Mr. Shola peeked over the crates, his voice a frantic whisper. "Lord Mark... they have firearms! Even if your beasts are strong, human flesh can't stop lead! Maybe we should give them a portion of the inventory to buy some time—"

​"Shut up, Mr. Shola," Mark interrupted, not turning his head. He looked directly at Gideon, his face a smooth, unreadable mask. "Gideon, you think having guns makes you the apex predator in this new world? You're still thinking like a pre-apocalypse criminal. Let me show you what a real apocalypse looks like."

​Mark raised his right hand from his pocket, his index finger pointing directly at the roof rafters above Gideon's squad.

​"Zephyr. Gale Force."

​High above, hidden in the pitch-black shadows of the corrugated steel ceiling, Zephyr spread his twelve-foot silver wings. With a piercing screech that shattered the nearby fluorescent lightbulbs, the Storm Eagle unleashed a massive, focused vortex of hurricane-force wind downward.

​FWOOSH!

​The sudden vertical blast of wind slammed into the ten rogue hunters like a falling concrete slab. The sheer force tore the hunting rifles right out of their hands, sending the weapons clattering across the floorboards. The men shrieked as they were blown flat onto their backs, their tactical gear scraping against the iron floor as the wind pinned them down.

​Gideon Cross, using his higher agility stats, managed to drop low into a defensive stance, his combat knife plunging deep into a wooden pallet to anchor himself against the hurricane. "You brat!" he roared, his face twisting with rage. "You think a little wind can stop a Shadow Assassin? Shadow Blend!"

​Gideon’s body became translucent, melting into the long shadows cast by the shipping crates. He moved with blinding speed, turning into a dark, rushing blur that raced straight toward Mark’s position, his knife aimed directly for Mark’s throat. His level 3 assassin speed was fast enough to leave afterimages.

​"Too slow," Mark whispered.

​Through [Shared Senses], he could track the thermal footprints of Gideon's body through Sly's sensitive heat-receptors, even while Gideon was invisible to the naked human eye.

​"Sly. Wall of Iron."

​BOOM!

​From the darkness of the side corridor, Sly’s massive, eighteen-foot iron-scaled body slammed down onto the floor right in front of Mark, creating an impenetrable barricade of interlocking black steel scales.

​Gideon’s knife struck Sly's scales dead center.

​SPARK!

​A bright shower of sparks erupted as the blade fractured into pieces against the python's dense armor. Gideon gasped, his invisibility fading instantly as the recoil of the impact jarred his arm bones, forcing him to stumble backward.

​Before Gideon could attempt to retreat into the shadows, Shadow executed [Shadow Step]. The midnight-black Hellhound emerged from the darkness right behind Gideon's heels. Shadow opened his jaws, wrapped entirely in freezing black fire, and clamped down with an [Abyssal Bite] directly onto Gideon's right shoulder, pinning him to the floor.

​CRUNCH!

​"AAAGHHH!" Gideon screamed in pure agony as the freezing dark energy poured into his bloodstream, completely paralyzing his nervous system. His level 3 combat power of 115 was completely useless against a level 6 evolved beast with a power rating over three times his scale.

​The ten rogue hunters, slowly recovering from Zephyr’s wind storm, looked up from the floor. When they saw their top-ranked leader pinned down like a helpless dog by a giant black wolf with burning red eyes, their courage shattered instantly. None of them dared reach for their dropped weapons.

​Mark walked casually around Sly’s massive coils, stopping right in front of the kneeling, trembling assassin leader. He looked down at Gideon with a cold, indifferent gaze.

​"You said a summoner is squishy behind the scenes," Mark said, his voice echoing clearly through the quiet loading dock. He reached down, grabbed Gideon by his tactical vest, and lifted his head up. "But you forgot one thing, Rank 2. My beasts don't just protect me. They are me. Your little squad is nothing but an evolution milestone for my next project."

​Mark turned his eyes toward the ten terrified hunters holding their hands up.

​"Pick up your leader, put him in one of the empty retail security cells on the second floor, and report to Mr. Shola for assignment. From today on, you are the construction labor for my fortress wall. If anyone tries to run... Sly hasn't had his lunch yet."

​The men scrambled forward, nodding frantically as they dragged their paralyzed leader away. Mr. Shola stood up from behind the crates, his face filled with intense, submissive awe as he bowed deeply toward Mark.

​"Right away, Lord Mark! I will ensure they work twenty hours a day!"

​Mark swiped his interface screen, closing the leaderboard tab. The Grand Plaza Mall was now completely under his heel, his base defenses were set, and his path toward regional dominance had officially begun.