I watched them, my gaze lingering on Mira—her strength, her defiance, the way her lips pressed together in determination. Sothing dark and possessive coiled in my chest. She should be mine.
I didn’t care about the consequences. I didn’t care about the fallout. I stepped forward, my smile smug, mocking, my voice low and dangerous, cutting through the tension like a knife.
"Hey, Jack..." I drew out, my tone light, taunting, "I’ve got a proposition for you." I tilted my head, my eyes locked onto him, gleaming with amusent.
"How about you sell your wife to ?" I shrugged, my smile twisting. "I’ll take care of her. Food. Safety. Survival." My voice dropped to a whisper, smooth, dangerous. "What do you say? Fair trade, don’t you think?"
The clearing froze.
Mira’s face paled, her hands clenching into fists, her eyes snapping to , burning with rage. "You bastard—"
Jack was on his feet in an instant, his face twisted in furious disgust. "You motherfucker!" His fist flew toward , fast, furious, but I caught it mid-air, my grip iron, unyielding. Our faces were inches apart, his breath hot, raging, his eyes burning with hatred.
"Tsk. Tsk." I murmured, my voice cold, amused. "Such anger over a simple question."
"Simple?!" Jack snarled, yanking his fist back, but I held tight, my fingers digging into his wrist. "You disgusting piece of shit—"
"Oh, co on," I chuckled, my gaze flickering to Mira, who stood frozen, her face a mask of horror. "It’s a good deal. You get to live without the burden of keeping her safe." My smile twisted. "And I get her."
"NEVER!" Mira scread, her voice raw, shattering the silence. She stepped forward, her hands clenched, her body trembling with rage. "I’m not a thing to be traded! You sick bastard—"
I laughed, low and dark, amused by her defiance. "Oh, Mira..." I murmured, my eyes raking over her, possessive, hungry.
"You say that now..." My tone was smooth, taunting. "But desperation changes people. Hunger changes them." I leaned in, my voice dropping to a whisper. "And soon, you’ll beg for this deal."
Jack roared, wrenching his arm free, his leg lashing out in a violent kick aid at my ribcage. I twisted, avoiding the blow before countering with a sharp, precise kick to his chest. He stumbled back, crashing to the ground with a grunt, his face twisted in pain.
"Why so angry, Jack?" I murmured, my voice mocking, amused. "I’m just offering a solution." I glanced at Mira, my smile cold. "A way for you to survive."
Jack pushed himself up, his breath ragged, his voice raw, venomous. "Mira..." he growled, his eyes flickering to her, "Did this monster touch you? Did he hurt you?"
Mira shook her head, her voice cold, final. "He’s a bastard." Her eyes flickered to , disgust written across her face. "But he hasn’t laid a finger on . Don’t pay attention to him."
I chuckled, shaking my head, my gaze lingering on her. "Yet," I murmured, my smile twisting.
The others didn’t provoke . They knew I had a gun. They knew I wasn’t afraid to use it. But Paul? Paul wasn’t backing down.
He stepped forward, his voice sharp, defiant, cutting through the tension. "You crossed a line, Dexter." His eyes burned into , unyielding. "You’re not the only one with a gun."
I turned to him, my smile never fading, my voice smooth, dangerous. "Oh, Paul..." I murmured, my tone mocking.
"But mine is already pointed at you." I reached into my jacket, slowly, deliberately, pulling out the gun and letting it gleam in the sunlight. "And I don’t miss."
The clearing fell silent, the tension coiling like a snake, ready to strike. The survivors watched, their faces pale, their breaths held. They knew the truth—I held the power here. And I wasn’t afraid to remind them.
Mira stood, her face flushed with anger, her voice low, venomous. "You’re sick."
Jack snarled, pushing himself up, but I didn’t care. I turned away, my smile cold, amused, my gun still loose in my hand.
"You think this is a joke?" Jack growled, his voice raw, trembling with rage. "You think you can just take what you want?"
I paused, glancing back at him, my eyes cold, unyielding. "I don’t think, Jack." My voice was final, dangerous. "I know."
Mira stepped between us, her voice sharp, cutting. "Enough." Her eyes burned into , defiant, unafraid. "You don’t own . You don’t own anyone."
I smirked, my gaze never leaving hers. "We’ll see."
The survivors stood in stunned silence, the weight of my words hanging in the air. They knew the truth. They knew the ga had changed.
The forest was thick with tension, the air heavy with the scent of damp earth and the lingering smoke from the fire. The survivors stood scattered, their faces pale, their eyes darting between , Jack, and Mira. I watched as Mira pulled Jack and her family away, her hips swaying with a defiance that made my lips curl into a lewd smile.
This kind of woman is interesting.
The way she carried herself, the fire in her eyes—she was a challenge, and I loved challenges. She thought she was safe, thought she could walk away from . But soon, she’d learn. Soon, she’d understand that no one was beyond my reach.
I opened the World Map function, marking everyone’s locations—Angela, Lisa, Mira, Jack, Paul, gan, Kai—each a piece in my ga.
Ti to design my plot. I’ll isolate them, exploit their weaknesses, and break them down.
Starting with Mira. She’ll be mine.
I watched from the edge of the group, my arms crossed, my expression unreadable. The supplies were so few now, barely enough to last another day. But panic was a luxury we couldn’t afford. Not yet.
gan clapped her hands together, her voice firm and steady, cutting through the murmurs of the group. "Alright, everyone, listen up!" she called out, her tone leaving no room for argunt. The survivors turned to her, their faces a mix of fear and desperation.
"So, with Mr. Jack’s information, we know we’re in 10,000 B.C.," she began, her voice calm but authoritative.
"But according to my guess, it should be the end of that era. Otherwise, we would’ve encountered dinosaurs by now." She paused, letting the words sink in. "So, no need to panic."
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