Chapter 93: She needs to be tied down

Ray released his grip on Theo’s collar with a violent snap.

In the very next second, his arm whipped around, scooping up the sobbing May straight off the floor. His movements were rough and unceremonious as he pressed her back against his chest, wrapping his heavy tactical overcoat around her until she was bundled up securely from head to toe.

"Listen up, every single one of you bastards."

Holding her firmly, Ray’s gaze swept across the room, the raw volatility and absolute possessiveness in his eyes practically solidifying into an overwhelming presence.

"From this second onward, she doesn’t leave my side by a single inch. Whoever dares entertain ideas they shouldn’t again—"

He paused mid-sentence, casting a quick downward glance at the whimpering woman huddled in his arms, forcing himself to swallow the rest of his violent threat.

The squad took a brief moment to regroup before preparing to evacuate this cursed hospital complex.

Ray meant every word he said.

Under the dumbfounded gazes of the entire crew, he pulled two high-strength elastic bandages straight out of his tactical trauma kit. In a matter of seconds, he securely strapped May to his broad back like a human backpack.

The elastic wraps looped beneath her armpits and upper thighs, crossing tightly over her chest and Ray’s solid torso before ending in a tight dead knot across his waist.

If I leave her side for even a single step, this little bunny gets devoured alive! She’s the root of all this trouble—she needs to be tied down tight!

The resulting posture was simultaneously intimate and downright bizarre.

May had no choice but to rest her cheek against the back of his warm neck, her chest pressed flush against his broad back muscles. With every step he took, her soft frame rubbed passively against his solid, flexed back.

Ray, are you using me as a human bulletproof vest, or am I a baby koala to you?

Dangling limply from Ray’s back, her legs swayed helplessly with his stride.

To make matters worse, from this vantage point, a slight turn of her head brought her face-to-face with the intense, predatory gazes locking onto her from behind.

Mitch had an unlit cigarette dangling between his lips, his expression dark enough to rain thunderbolts.

Ace was meticulously wiping down his prized pair of short blades, a pleasant smile plastered on his face, though the glint in his eyes suggested he was calculating precisely where to make the first incision.

Meanwhile, Theo stood off to the side, his clinical gaze repeatedly tracing the bare skin of her exposed ankle.

May quietly buried her face deep into the nape of Ray’s neck.

She was completely done for. Now she had genuinely turned into a piece of prized meat that everyone wanted a bite of.

A strange smell—a mix of gunsmoke, fresh blood, and sharp medical disinfectant—hung thick in the hospital corridor.

Ray carried May on his back as though shielding his sole treasure. The lethal, suffocating aura radiating off him kept the men trailing behind from even taking a loud breath.

Bound tightly by the bandages, May felt her cheek pressed against the burning skin of Ray’s neck. As he strode forward, her chest rubbed repeatedly against his back muscles with every single step.

The friction left her limbs feeling weak, her face burning hot.

Even worse, she could distinctly feel those burning, possessive gazes behind her, ready to tear her apart.

Finally, the squad halted upon finding a relatively clean storage room.

The atmosphere inside was frozen solid like a block of ice.

"Ahem."

Theo acted as though he was completely oblivious to the crushing tension. Reaching into his tactical pack, he pulled out two stuffed medical pouches and dropped them onto the floor with a heavy clatter.

"We’re in luck. The pharmacy hadn’t been completely cleaned out."

Unzipping the bags, he revealed rows of pristine, factory-sealed boxes. "The latest batch of broad-spectrum antibiotics, along with several boxes of military-grade, high-potency hemostatic agents. More than enough to carry us through until we reach the island."

Hearing that, the hardened expressions on Mitch and Jack relaxed slightly.

In the post-apocalyptic wasteland, medical supplies were worth more than pure gold. Theo’s haul was unquestionably a massive contribution to the team’s survival.

Yet in Mitch’s eyes, this achievement was more disgusting than a pile of filth.

That’s it, I can’t take this anymore!

In the dark corner of the storage room, Mitch grabbed Theo by the arm just as he was about to step away, dragging him into an isolated spot.

"Theo, stop right fucking there."

Mitch shoved him straight behind a stack of abandoned metal shelves, where the dim lighting conveniently shielded them from Ray’s murderously intense gaze.

"You four-eyed bastard!"

Clutching Theo’s collar, Mitch slammed him hard against the rusted frame, his bloodshot eyes glaring straight into his face.

"Did she really give herself to you?!"

Pinned against the shelving unit, Theo showed not a shred of panic. He even found the composure to adjust his glasses, which had been knocked slightly crooked.

Offering no immediate answer, he simply raised a hand, using two fingers to lightly tap against Mitch’s knuckles gripping his collar.

"Mitch, we are in a shared space. Mind your manners."

"Fuck your manners!"

Mitch blew his stack completely.

"I was out there risking my fucking life against those infected, and you were in here doing that?! Theo, are you even human?!"

"What happened to the alliance we agreed on? What happened to sharing the rewards? You sneaked a bite all by yourself without uttering a single word! I didn’t snap earlier just to give you some face, so don’t push your luck!"

The raging fire of jealousy burned away the last remnants of Mitch’s sanity.

He had seen it with his own eyes—those two symmetrical, deep purple bite marks branded directly into May’s fair, delicate skin.

That was a spot he had dreamed of biting into himself.

Yet this refined hypocrite had beaten him to the punch.

"Oh?"

Theo finally offered a response. Tilting his head slightly, a subtle, provocative flicker of amusement flashed in his eyes.

"Don’t you know now?"

His voice was soft, yet it carried far more lethal weight than Mitch’s furious roaring.

"The taste..." Theo paused briefly, as if savoring a lingering memory, before leaning in close to Mitch’s ear to deliver every word in an intimate, barely audible whisper: "...was exceptionally sweet."

"Strawberry-flavored."

BOOM—!

Mitch released his grip—not because he had calmed down, but because he was shaking violently from pure, unadulterated fury.

"Motherfucker!"

"Don’t put it like that," Theo casually straightened his wrinkled collar, his posture as refined as if he were attending a high-society dinner. "Mitch, don’t say Theo didn’t warn you—opportunities favor those who act quickly. Simply yelling and screaming like an animal won’t get you a taste of the meat."

"You—!"

"What about me?"

The mocking curve on Theo’s lips deepened.

"You want to kill me right now? Go ahead, take your shot. But if you deprive her of one of her precious favorites, how much better off will you be with her? Besides, how have I wronged you? You chose your own path, so whatever comes with it, you’ll just have to swallow it down. Hmph."

Mitch glared at him, his chest heaving up and down in rapid, violent thrusts.

Yet in the end, he did absolutely nothing.

Because everything Theo said was a cold, hard fact.

He could only stand there helplessly, watching this refined monster turn around with a triumphant smirk and walk away in total composure.

Not far off, Alex—who was busy wiping down firearm components—took in the entire exchange.

A subtle, nearly imperceptible curve touched the corner of his lips. His hands never paused in their task, but a cold scoff echoed in his mind.

Dogs biting dogs, getting fur all over their mouths.

Wonderful.

Lowering his head, he resumed focusing intently on cleaning the suppressor in his hand. Deep within those innocent, puppy-dog eyes lay a calculating sharpness completely unbefitting his apparent age, seeing through every layer of their internal conflict.

The cloudier this pool of water became, the easier it would be for him to catch his fish.