Evil MC's NTR Harem

Chapter 1049: Chapter 1049 Shop

Miku’s eyes swept over the room again, taking in the tidy arrangement, the soft furnishings, and the faint scent of safety that seemed to emanate from every corner.

It was the first place she had felt even remotely secure in weeks, yet she couldn’t shake the instinct to flee, to hide, to prepare for another attack.

The man set his coffee down and leaned back slightly, watching her with quiet patience.

There was no hostility in his posture, only an almost unsettling calm.

Yet Miku’s nerves remained on edge, her mind caught between gratitude, fear, and disbelief.

How could someone be so relaxed while the world had gone to hell?

How could anyone maintain this composure when survival itself was so uncertain?

Her eyes returned to his face, and for the first time, she noticed the subtle strength in his features—the kind that suggested he was capable, dangerous, and not someone to underestimate.

Despite his relaxed demeanor, she could feel a quiet authority radiating from him.

”I...” she started, her voice barely above a whisper, unsure of what to say. Her throat was dry, her hands trembling uncontrollably. ”Where... where am I?”

”You’re safe,” he replied simply. ”For now, that’s all that matters. Nothing else can hurt you here.”

Miku’s chest tightened with a strange mixture of relief and lingering terror.

It was almost unbelievable—after everything she had endured, after the men, the zombies, the constant threat of death—someone could offer her genuine safety without demanding anything in return.

For a long moment, she just stood there, unsure whether to approach or flee, her instincts warring with her desire to finally rest.

Still, her vigilance did not wane.

Years of experience and living on this imperfect earth had taught her a bitter lesson: men could not be trusted.

Even when she was young, she had been pursued with crude comments, unwanted touches, and lewd proposals.

That was why she trusted no one but her husband. Not Ross, not anyone else.

”I need to go now,” Miku said firmly, her voice steady despite the pounding of her heart.

She didn’t ask about the five men who had tried to attack her, nor did she inquire about what Ross had done to stop them.

She didn’t need the details.

What mattered was her survival, and she had learned long ago that trusting anyone—even a savior—could be dangerous.

”By all means,” Ross replied casually, his tone relaxed, almost amused, though his eyes remained sharp.

”You’re free to leave if you wish. Just... don’t forget to lock the doors when you go.” He gestured toward the doors with a slow, deliberate wave of his hand, his calmness unnerving in its confidence.

Miku hesitated for a fraction of a second, weighing the strange safety of this place against her instinctive caution. Then she gave a small nod.

”Thank you,” she murmured, almost reflexively, before moving toward the door Ross had indicated.

The moment she stepped through, the atmosphere changed.

It was as if she had entered a tunnel beneath the surface of the world.

The air was cooler, damp, and slightly musty, carrying the faint smell of stone and old wood.

Dim lights hung from the ceiling, flickering occasionally, casting long, quivering shadows that seemed to crawl along the walls.

Every step she took echoed faintly, reminding her that this was no ordinary house.

At the far end of the passage, a staircase led upward.

She climbed it quickly, her pulse racing and hands trembling slightly, muscles tense from months of near-constant danger.

Each step creaked under her weight, but the sound seemed distant compared to the pounding of her heart.

When she emerged from the staircase, she was met with a sight that made her catch her breath.

It was a vast, open living space, impossibly large and impossibly clean—a striking contrast to the ruined, zombie-infested world outside.

Sunlight streamed in through towering windows, casting a golden glow over polished wooden floors and pristine furniture.

Every corner was orderly, every surface immaculate. Soft rugs lined the floor, and tasteful decorations adorned the walls, creating a sense of warmth and security that felt almost alien after weeks of fleeing through filth, blood, and decay.

Miku moved slowly, almost cautiously, taking it all in.

She noticed the small details—the way the books were arranged neatly on shelves, the faint scent of fresh coffee lingering in the air, the plush chairs positioned perfectly around a low table.

This was not just a safe place. It was a sanctuary, meticulously maintained, and clearly prepared for someone to survive in comfort.

Her gaze shifted to the windows, and that’s when her breath caught.

A massive horde of zombies had gathered outside.

The grotesque, writhing mass stretched as far as her eyes could see, a living, moaning tide of decay and hunger.

Limbs flailed, mouths gaped open in silent screams, and the ground seemed to shake under the sheer weight of their numbers.

The sight made her stomach churn and her chest tighten.

Her instinct was to recoil, to hide, to flee.

But now, from inside the house, the horde was nothing more than a horrifying spectacle—a threat kept at bay by some unseen barrier, some invisible shield of safety.

Miku pressed her hands to the glass, her face pale, and took a deep, shaky breath.

Miku stared at the horde of zombies outside, her heart sinking with every passing minute.

She had hoped they would eventually drift away, that some chance or distraction would pull them from the house—but they didn’t.

They simply lingered, groaning and shuffling in place, an endless, restless mass of decay surrounding the building.

She had no way of knowing the truth—that Ross controlled them, bending their movements to his will.

To her, it seemed like an impossible, hopeless siege.

Each passing moment deepened her sense of desperation.

An hour slipped by.

Miku’s patience wore thin.

Her husband remained wounded, weak and hungry, and she could not afford to waste time waiting for the dead to lose interest.

Every second felt like a lifetime.

The walls of the house, no matter how sturdy, offered little comfort against the unending tide outside.

With no other options left, Miku knew she had to swallow her pride and ask for help.

She retraced her cautious steps through the house, every creak of the floor sending shivers down her spine.

Her pulse raced, her hands trembled, and her stomach twisted in anxious anticipation.

Finally, she found herself face to face with Ross once more.

His calm, composed expression gave nothing away, but to Miku, it radiated a quiet, undeniable power—an authority that both reassured and intimidated her.

Her voice was barely above a whisper, tinged with urgency and fear. ”Please... I need your help.”