Chapter 1124 Blink
Chapter 1124: Chapter 1124 Blink
Miku’s eyes shined—not with fear, but with conviction.
"And since when did being powerless mean being useless? Even normal people can stand up for what’s right. And Ross said he can guarantee our safety. I trust him." She lifted her chin stubbornly. "I’m going. Period."
Without waiting for a response, Miku yanked open the van door and climbed inside, her jaw set in determination.
Ace stood frozen.
The world around her fell silent except for the pounding of her own heart.
She wanted to argue—wanted to pull Miku back, force her to stay in the relative safety of this house.
But Miku’s eyes had made it clear: nothing Ace said would stop her.
And deep down... Ace knew she couldn’t let her friend face danger alone.
With a defeated exhale, she muttered, "Fine... fine," and climbed in, sliding the door shut behind her.
Ross watched them settle into their seats.
For a moment, he said nothing—only smiled that calm, infuriatingly confident smile that suggested he had already predicted exactly how the argument would end.
Then he gripped the steering wheel and turned the key.
The engine growled to life, loud and powerful.
The sound echoed through the empty streets like a thunderclap.
Birds scattered from rooftops. Dust drifted from broken windows.
And from somewhere deeper in the city, a chorus of guttural groans responded.
The horde had heard them.
One by one, decaying silhouettes emerged from alleyways, drawn by noise, hunger, and instinct.
Dozens at first. Then more.
Their dragging footsteps scraped against the asphalt as they converged toward the van.
Inside, the women stiffened.
Ace clutched Miku’s arm so tightly her knuckles turned white.
Miku swallowed hard, trying to look brave but unable to hide the fear flickering in her eyes.
The five rescued women pressed against the windows, breath shallow, hands trembling.
"Ross..." one whispered, her voice barely audible. "We should go. Now."
But Ross showed no sign of panic.
Instead, he slowly opened the driver’s door.
"Stay inside," he said, stepping out as if he were simply stretching his legs.
The women watched with wide, terrified eyes as he walked a few steps into the street.
The undead swarm approached—dozens of rotting bodies stumbling closer, jaws slack, arms reaching.
Ross rolled his shoulders.
Cracked his knuckles.
And smiled.
It was then—right there, in the golden light of the dying sun, surrounded by an army of the dead—that the women finally witnessed what Ross Oakley was truly capable of.
They had thought they understood him.
They were wrong.
And they were about to see why the world whispered his name with equal parts awe, fear... and disbelief.
"Go away," Ross whispered.
His voice carried barely any force, barely any emotion—just a simple command given to the universe itself.
Then he flicked his fingers.
BOOOOM!
The world reacted instantly.
An earth-shaking blast of invisible pressure erupted forward, ripping through the asphalt like a giant’s hammer.
A massive pathway tore open across the street—at least twenty meters wide—flattening everything in its way.
Cars crumpled like tin cans. Streetlights bent as if made of soft metal.
Zombies exploded into dust and pulp, smeared flat into the ground like insects under a boot.
The shockwave didn’t just clear a path—it erased everything that blocked Ross’s way.
The blast stretched so far that the horizon shimmered with distortion.
Giana, Joy, Avery, and the rest of the women stared, mouths open, unable to see the end of the destruction.
It vanished into the distance like a god had drawn a straight line across the land.
The echo of the blast faded, leaving only a ringing silence.
Dust rolled over the van in slow waves.
Then Ross turned around, hopped lightly back into the driver’s seat, and closed the door as if he had only swatted a fly.
"Alright," he said casually, hands sliding onto the wheel. "Road’s clear. Let’s go."
The van moved forward, rolling smoothly onto the flawless empty lane Ross had carved. No obstacles.
No threats. Just a clean, open road stretching endlessly forward.
Inside the van, no one breathed for several seconds.
Their hearts were still trying to catch up with what their eyes had just witnessed.
Then the questions burst out.
"What... what kind of ability IS THAT!?" Giana shouted, her hands gripping her seat.
"That’s not broken—that’s BEYOND broken!" another woman blurted, shaking her head in disbelief.
"He flicked his fingers!" someone whispered. "Just a flick... and he did that..."
They couldn’t process it. They couldn’t understand it. Ross’s power didn’t feel human.
It didn’t feel mutant, evolved, or magical. It felt like something that belonged to legends.
Joy sat with her eyes closed for a moment, her breathing slow and steady as she activated her sensory ability.
Joy could perceive everything within a full mile radius—movement, living beings, undead threats, even changes in energy.
She scanned the path Ross created.
Her eyes snapped open in pure shock.
"I–It’s still active..." Joy stammered.
Avery turned to her sharply. "What do you mean still active?"
Joy pointed nervously out the window. "Look. Look at the sides of the road."
Everyone craned their necks to see.
On both sides of the path Ross had blasted open, the zombies remained crushed—completely immobilized, flattened as if the air itself continued pressing down on them.
Many weren’t even twitching. Some looked like they had been ironed into the ground.
"They’re not moving," Joy whispered. "They can’t move. The pressure Ross released... it’s still holding them down. I can feel it. A massive force is still lingering in the area. It’s like the world’s gravity changed."
Avery’s jaw dropped. She stared at Ross with wide, trembling eyes. "That’s... impossible. Ross—just what are you?"
Another woman added softly, almost reverently, "No human can do that..."
Joy nodded, swallowing hard. "Even from inside the van, I can sense it. There’s a divine-level force still pressing everything flat. Ross isn’t just strong. He’s... something else."
Ross didn’t look up.
He didn’t answer their questions.
He simply kept driving, one hand casually on the wheel, the other tapping rhythmically against the window as the van cruised through the impossible path he had carved.
A slight smile curved his lips—quiet, mysterious, and terrifyingly confident.
Whatever Ross Oakley was...
He was far beyond anything they could understand.
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