Evil MC's NTR Harem - Chapter 1027

1027: Chapter 1027 Pumpkin 1027: Chapter 1027 Pumpkin The symbol painted on their sides gleamed faintly in the sunlight, though none of the men recognized it.

Ross looked up once, his eyes narrowing slightly.

Then he gave a subtle nod.

That was all it took.

Without a single shouted command, the convoy began its retreat.  The twenty-four armored trucks reversed formation, moving in perfect coordination as they fell back toward the bunker.  It was a slow, disciplined withdrawal-no chaos, no hesitation.

They fired as they moved, cutting down the horde that followed in their wake.

The zombies came like a tidal wave, unending, desperate.  They tripped and climbed over their own dead, howling mindlessly as they chased the retreating vehicles.  But flesh could not match steel, and their bodies exploded into gore beneath the merciless hail of bullets.  Heads burst like melons; torsos were torn apart until the horde looked less like a threat and more like a sea of shredded meat.

Ross remained calm, watching from his seat through the armored window.  The comic book he’d been reading earlier was gone, replaced by a look of quiet satisfaction.  His eyes reflected the firelight outside-the calm of a predator who had seen this all before.

Ten minutes later, the first of the trucks reached the bunker gates.  The massive steel doors began to open, gears grinding and pistons hissing as the entrance yawned wide.  The vehicles filed in one by one, their thick tires leaving behind trails of blood and bone dust.

As the last truck crossed the threshold, a deep rumble filled the air.

From hidden compartments around the perimeter, massive automated defense turrets emerged, rising from the earth like awakening giants.  Their barrels swiveled in unison, locking onto the encroaching horde.

Then they fired.

The ground shook.

A wall of flame and shrapnel tore through the zombies, vaporizing hundreds in a single burst.  Explosions echoed across the field as the turrets unleashed their payload, transforming the battlefield into a furnace of death.  Limbs, ash, and smoke filled the sky.  The shrieks of the undead were drowned beneath the steady rhythm of machine fire and the thunder of explosions.

Inside the bunker, the last of the convoy rolled into safety.  Hydraulic locks sealed the enormous steel doors shut with a deafening clang.  The moment they did, the turrets outside began their final volley, erasing the last traces of movement.

Then, one by one, the great guns lowered themselves back into their compartments, disappearing beneath armored plates until the surface looked barren once more.  The battlefield fell silent.

The only sound left was the soft crackle of flames licking at the heaps of corpses.

Outside, the earth was blanketed in ruin.  A mountain of zombies lay piled before the bunker-thousands upon thousands of mangled bodies stacked so high they almost reached the upper walls.  Blood soaked the dirt until it looked more like a sea than soil.  The air shimmered with heat and the stench of decay.

Inside, the soldiers finally removed their helmets and exhaled.  The adrenaline still ran thick in their veins, but relief began to creep in.

Ross stood from his seat, stretching casually, as if he had just finished a routine errand instead of orchestrating a massacre.  His men watched him in quiet awe.

He glanced toward the sealed steel doors and smirked faintly.  “That’s one wave down,” he murmured.

“Now… let’s see who sent the helicopters.” Outside, the battlefield lay quiet-but above the drifting smoke, distant lights flickered in the sky.

The next phase was already coming.

*** “Do you have any idea who those men are?” one of the passengers asked from the back of the helicopter, his voice tight with disbelief.  He didn’t even try to hide the awe, or the fear, that had built up after watching the convoy’s massacre from above.  The sight of armored trucks mowing down hundreds of thousands of zombies like it was nothing had left him speechless for a long moment.

The pilot didn’t take his eyes off the horizon, guiding the chopper with steady, practiced hands.  The blades whipped the air into a relentless rhythm, cutting through the smoke and haze that hung over the battlefield.  “Your guess is as good as mine,” he said finally, his voice calm but firm.  “Whatever they are, they’re not ordinary people.

Nothing about that was ordinary.

You see that level of firepower and coordination, and you tell me it isn’t something else entirely.” The co-pilot tapped a few keys on the digital pad before glancing at the passenger.  “Coordinates are locked.

Everything’s logged.

Headquarters will get the full report as soon as we land.

I don’t even know what to call it… some kind of fortress?” The man in the back craned his neck, staring at the distant bunker as it disappeared into the smoke-filled horizon.  The steel doors were closed now, the automated turrets retracted into their compartments, and the mountain of corpses surrounded the perimeter like a grim monument to what had just happened.  He shook his head.

“It doesn’t make sense.

These men seemed extremely prepared.”  “They’re not ordinary soldiers,” the pilot interrupted, his tone sharper now.  “And you’re not going to understand the half of it until you see it for yourself.

But mark my words, headquarters will want to know about this.

Every last detail.

And they’re going to ask questions that no one can answer yet.” Outside, the sun reflected off the helicopter blades, glinting against the scorched battlefield below.

The smell of smoke, death, and scorched earth lingered even at this distance.  The helicopter banked, climbing higher into the sky, and the other choppers followed suit in tight formation.  Below, the bunker became smaller, swallowed by the distance and the haze of battle.  And yet, the image of it-the sheer audacity of that place, the endless weapons, the mountain of corpses-would be etched into their minds forever.

From that moment on, Ross Oakley’s bunker was no longer a secret.

The coordinates were logged.  The existence of a power nearby capable of destroying an army of the undead without breaking a sweat-would soon become known.