Evil MC's NTR Harem

Chapter 1114: Chapter 1114 Agility

A ripple passed through the group—fear, relief, uncertainty all mixed together.

The five women leaned in closer to Giana, their faces pale from exhaustion and the ever-present sense of danger that clung to them like a second skin.

Giana’s jaw tightened.

“Three people… inside a house this deep in the dead zone? That’s not normal.”

“Maybe they’re like us,” whispered Delia, the youngest of the five.

Her hands trembled slightly as she clutched her pistol, knuckles white.

“Or maybe they’re worse,” muttered Suri darkly. “Humans are more dangerous than zombies nowadays.”

No one disagreed.

Giana surveyed their surroundings with cautious eyes. The house looked sturdy—too sturdy.

The windows weren’t boarded with scrap wood but reinforced with metal panels.

The front yard, though dark, had a strange orderliness to it.

Even the cracked stone path leading to the doorway felt… maintained.

People lived here. Thrived, even.

And that was terrifying in its own way.

“At this point,” Giana said softly, “we either take a chance… or die out there tonight.”

A cold gust swept through them, carrying the faint groans of distant walkers.

That alone made the choice.

She lifted her hand and knocked gently on the door—two soft taps, barely audible.

The others held their breath, every muscle tensed as they waited. They expected silence.

They expected to stand there in the dark for long, agonizing minutes.

Maybe knock again.

Maybe risk being heard.

Maybe give up.

But none of them expected the door to open almost immediately—three breaths, no more, no less.

The women froze.

Their instincts exploded into motion.

Guns snapped up.

Fingers curled around triggers.

Feet shifted into defensive stances.

Hearts pounded so hard each woman wondered if someone else could hear it.

But none of them were prepared for the figure standing in the doorway.

The lantern light from inside washed over him, outlining the shape of a man who looked nothing like a starving survivor or a desperate wanderer.

He stood tall, relaxed—too relaxed.

As though he had known they were coming long before they ever decided to knock.

His eyes were calm.

His posture unthreatened.

His presence overwhelming.

Every woman felt their breath hitch for a different reason—shock, fear, awe, something primal they didn’t want to acknowledge.

He didn’t seem afraid of their guns. He didn’t seem bothered by their trembling stances.

He simply stood there.

Watching them with unreadable eyes.

For a moment that stretched long and thin, no one dared speak.

The night around them went silent, even the distant groaning of zombies fading into a muted hum.

Giana swallowed hard.

She had seen monsters. She had seen men who tried to be monsters.

But this man…

This man felt like something entirely different.

And none of them knew if that was salvation—

—or the beginning of a new nightmare.

“You all seem stressed out. Please, come in.” Ross said with a gentle smile—the kind that somehow cut through the tension in the air yet made every woman’s pulse spike for an entirely different reason.

He stepped aside, hand extended in a polite, almost regal gesture.

The five women hesitated at the threshold, clutching their guns, unsure if stepping inside was salvation or a trap.

But then…

They truly saw Ross.

Under the warm interior lights, his face was revealed in full—sharp, perfectly sculpted features, eyes calm and steady, a presence that radiated unshakeable confidence.

The kind of beauty that didn’t belong in a world like this.

He’s so handsome…

The identical thought struck all five of them like a spell.

Their breath caught. Their stances faltered. It wasn’t lust, not yet—it was sheer disbelief, awe, shock.

The kind of face that made someone forget every danger outside.

Against their own judgment, their feet began moving forward on their own.

They entered the house silently, one after another, drawn in like moths to a steady, impossibly warm flame.

Ross led them deeper, down reinforced steps into the lower levels of Aegis.

The basement opened not into a cramped shelter, but into a wide, well-lit living space with polished floors, comfortable furniture, and a smell none of them had experienced in months—fresh food.

Two people sat waiting: Miku, sharp-eyed and composed, and Ace, protective and wary.

“There’s food on the table. Help yourselves,” Ross gestured, voice calm and welcoming.

The five women froze again—not from fear, but from the shock of seeing something unthinkable.

Actual plates. Actual dishes. Steam rising from warm meals. Clean water. Fruit. Even soup.

Miku’s eyes darted between Ross and the group, a quiet disbelief tightening her expression.

He really told me five… and five arrived.

Earlier that day, Ross had casually said, “Prepare food for five visitors.” She hadn’t questioned it.

She had learned better than to doubt Ross’s instincts.

But even then… seeing it play out so precisely still made her heart skip.

How does he do it every time…?

But then again, this was Ross. The impossible was normal when he was involved.

The women didn’t approach the table.

Hunger gnawed at them, but instinct told them to wait—to show respect, to follow whatever custom this sanctuary followed.

Giana stepped forward first, posture straightening despite her exhaustion, her tone formal.

“Thank you for taking us in. My name is Giana.” She motioned to her companions. “This is Libby, Valery, Joy, and Avery.”

The others gave tired nods, still keeping one eye on Ross—unable to help it, really.

His presence naturally drew their attention like gravity.

Ross introduced Miku and Ace with casual ease.

Ace gave them a polite nod, though he kept glancing at Libby’s wound like a man prepared to act the moment she collapsed.

Only after the names were exchanged did Giana’s controlled composure crack. Her expression darkened with guilt and fear.

“There’s something you all need to know,” she began, swallowing hard. “And before I say it, I want to apologize. Truly.”

Ross raised an eyebrow, listening without interrupting.

Giana continued, voice low.

“I’m afraid we may have led trouble straight to your door.”

A cold heaviness settled over the room. Valery’s fingers twitched on her gun.

Avery stared down at the floor. Joy closed her eyes, perhaps sensing the shifting tension in the air.

Giana took a deep breath. “There are people after us. Very dangerous people. The type who take what they want and kill whoever gets in their way.”

Her gaze shifted to the blonde woman leaning heavily against the wall—Libby.

Libby’s face was pale, sweat-dampened.

A thick wrap of cloth covered her abdomen.

Blood, dark and dried but still fresh in places, seeped through the fabric.

“She was shot,” Giana said softly.