Midnight Assault
You're good at what?
"Huh? That's... I wasn't really good at studying back in the day... but I can handle anything physical. I swear it."
Physical... Yeah, that tracks. You seem solid at it.
"Can you dance?"
"Ah... yeah, yeah. I used to hit clubs hard back then..."
"Perfect. Show me something sexy."
The girl hesitated for a second, then began a sultry dance. Even without music, she was surprisingly skilled—fluid, teasing movements that felt practiced. Her body moved with just the right amount of heat.
Now all of us were crammed into the Residential-Commercial Apartment. She danced hard anyway, ignoring the eyes watching her from every side.
"Nice work. You've got talent. Now strip down and dance naked."
"What?! Ah... I-"
Her cheeks burned red as she started peeling off her clothes. Her slim, curvaceous hips and small, round breasts were completely exposed.
She covered her pussy with one hand, then dove back into the sexy dance. Naked dancing. The kind you see only in adult broadcasts. But this chick was just a regular civilian trying it for the first time.
Her face was beet red, a humiliated expression fighting to stay alive while sweat poured down her body as she thrashed to the silent beat. It was mortifying—tears on the verge of spilling, eyes wide with pure shame.
"Enough. You're through."
At the word "passed," her humiliated face flickered with relief.
"T-Thank you! I'll do my best!"
"Repeat your vows like this—prostrate on the floor."
"Prostrate?"
"Bow by lying flat on your belly."
"Ah, yes!"
She dropped to the floor, forehead slamming down.
"Thank you! I'll do my best!"
I rose from my seat and pressed my foot firmly onto her head. Looking down, the sight of her waist and round ass was pure filth.
"Uuuuh..."
"Betrayal means death. Disobeying orders means death. Understand?"
"Yes! I-I swear I will never betray you!"
I patted her ass with my palm, then slapped it once. She stood up quickly.
"Good. Blackie, take her upstairs and show her the place. Give her food and the pill too."
The black-haired man led her out. Everyone else scattered off to their own tasks.
She'd clearly chosen this apartment because it looked the most promising to her. With all her comrades gone, surviving alone here wasn't easy.
Evening turned into deep night. Someone shook me awake.
"O-Opba! Wake up!"
Injoo was urgently shaking me.
"What? External intruders?"
"Yes, I was on night watch. I saw people entering the apartment's main gate. It was too dark to tell exactly how many."
Multiple people approaching in the dead of night. Clearly hostile. Were they after us on purpose or just raiders?
I jumped out of bed. The sound of footsteps climbing the stairs echoed from the corridor already. A ton of them. My sharpened hearing picked up even the quiet steps of the stealthy bastards.
"Shit, wake everyone up. Grab weapons and hide in the rooms. These bastards are targeting us."
I snatched the air gun, the spear, and the jungle knife from beside the bed.
As I reached the entrance, their voices were already close.
Through the exterior monitor I saw a few men glued to the door. One was holding a pry bar, ready to smash it open.
I whipped the door open and jammed the gun muzzle through the gap, firing.
-Paaak!
The compressed air cracked like thunder.
"Aaaah!!"
The man with the pry bar clutched his chest and collapsed.
"T-They were waiting for us! Be careful! There's an air gun!"
Outside the door, the others screamed and started firing back. I slammed the door shut and reloaded fast.
Behind the closed door, tension thickened the air. Their responses weren't great. Panic and confusion poured through the vents.
One guy crept back toward the door. I opened it again and blasted him.
While he fell, another asshole had wedged a metal pipe into the gap to keep the door from latching.
The air gun was slung on my back. Spear in hand, I shoved the door open and burst into the corridor. A line of them stood waiting. Fear and terror twisted their faces.
The front one didn't even try to block. My spear pierced his gut. He dropped. I stabbed the next, then the next. Chaos erupted.
Some moved fast and strong. Others dropped instantly to the spear.
Metal pipes and spears slashed across my body, but every time I took a hit, they lost one more man.
A big bastard lunged and grabbed my spear with both hands. He was easily over six feet, built like a tank.
We wrestled for the weapon. The fearless attacker suddenly froze, his face flooding with pure terror.
I overpowered him with raw strength alone. He was losing ground fast. I poured on the pressure. He staggered backward and we crashed together. I yanked my waist knife free and drove it into his throat.
At that exact moment, the door to the apartment upstairs swung open. Blackie and Key Gong fired their crossbows at the same time. Bolts slammed into the group, pinning them with screams.
"Close the door and reload!"
I gave the order and they slammed the door shut instantly.
My body was already a bloodbath. My shirt was shredded rags, but I didn't care. I raised the spear again.
Ten-plus corpses and injured guys lay scattered on the floor. Dozens more still lingered below the stairs.
I took one step. They backed up. These fuckers were breaking. The fight was draining out of them.
I jabbed the spear at the front guy. He dodged a little and counterattacked with his own weapon, nicking my chest. A thin line of blood appeared. For a split second he grinned, but I stabbed again—deeper.
The spear punched clean through his gut and kept rolling down the stairs.
The falling body shoved the rest. I followed, stabbing and slashing as I descended. Downward attacks were crushing them.
From behind, my men finished reloading. I pressed my back to the wall. Two bolts flew out and nailed the enemies.
"Aaaaaaaaah!!"
I roared and charged. They broke like a tide and ran.
Screams and howls. Guys tumbling down the stairs. My spear found their backs as they fell.
The apartment stairs and walls were drenched in blood and guts.
The ones who reached the first floor tried to bolt. My speed was overwhelming.
I speared them in the back as they fled. One crashed. I stabbed the next.
The distance grew. Only about six remained in view.
I stopped, reloaded the air gun, and fired. Another dropped. I reloaded again.
Too far for perfect shots now, but another bolt took one out. The rest vanished into the alley.
Blackie and Key Gong came sprinting up behind me, panting.
"Are you alright?!"
"I'm fine. The ones who aren't dead yet—tie them up and gather them."
Following my orders, they moved. I checked my wounds. Two deep cuts. Three deep holes leaking blood.
I tore off strong tape from my waist and plastered it over the injuries. This was my field dressing. Bandage rough and stop the bleeding, and I'd be healed.
I walked around and finished off the ones who looked dead, driving the spear straight through them.
Ten men dead. Fourteen injured.
Blades and air guns don't end people quickly. Most bleed out over time. That's why I now understood why the news showed stabbed victims getting patched up and surviving.
All attackers were men, mostly young and muscular.
I dragged every captured bastard to the empty lot in front of the apartment and made them kneel.
"Where did you come from?"
"Fuck! Would we tell you if we could?!"
A tough expression. Scary as hell. These guys would probably stay silent even under torture.
I didn't answer. I just raised the spear and drove it into his gut. I twisted hard and tore sideways. His intestines spilled out. His scream sounded like it came straight from hell.
"I don't know if he's a lieutenant or a captain... I could roast him like tripe..."
My calm voice made the surrounding men go pale and shake.
"Listen up. All the torture in movies and dramas is censored. Real-life torture can do anything. Pull out your eyeballs and spin them, crush every finger and limb... or even peel your skin off. First, let's take off their dicks."
I pulled the jungle knife from my waist.
"Next to you. Speak or I'll start with you."
The terrified guy started spilling everything.
These bastards had attacked the villa area where I used to live. The ones who took over the Residential-Commercial Apartment.
A scouting party spotted us by accident and planned the raid for tonight.
Today's group had gathered the stronger fighters.
The survivors were probably under a hundred. I alone had killed dozens, so the original group must have been over a hundred.
"Any weapons? Anyone got a gun?"
"T-The command team had police pistols. Nothing else!"
"Food?"
"Yes, we cleaned out the area completely. Plenty. And we've got the captured women... if you let us go, we can trade food and women for your lives."
Even in desperation he detailed everything. Offering a prisoner exchange. If we freed them, what then? I had planned to slaughter just thirty, but now they were probably coming in groups. Or maybe gathering more.
Wouldn't it be easier to just cut these bastards' heads off, absorb their souls, and then wipe out the rest?