The Villains Must Win-Chapter 325: Apocalyptic Romance 35

Alvaro activated the side-mounted chainsaws, gears grinding and spinning with a hungry roar.

"Let’s make a road," he laughed.

The raiders dropped barricades in panic, but the armored beast shredded them into splinters.

Metal smashed against metal. The raiders shouted curses drowned by gunfire.

Cloud’s voice was cool as ice: "Sasha, angle right. There’s one trying to flank with a grenade."

Without hesitation, she swerved — hard.

The grenade exploded harmlessly behind them — a plume of smoke and debris swallowing the idiots who threw it.

Alvaro whooped. "Good call, Commander!"

Cloud didn’t respond — but Sasha caught the satisfied smirk smile his mouth.

Teamwork was optional for them. But protecting Sasha was instinct.

And that instinct turned them into a perfect weapon.

Within seconds, the raiders’ courage evaporated. One truck engine sputtering — guns abandoned — men running for their pathetic lives.

Sasha slammed her foot on the pedal and grinned wildly.

"Survival rule number one," she said — "Never chase after a woman with lovers like these."

Cloud slid into the passenger seat as dust settled, eyes still scanning the horizon.

"You okay?" he asked, softer now.

Sasha flashed him a thumbs up. "Always."

Alvaro leaned back, propping his boots on the dash.

"Well, that was a fun alarm clock."

Cloud flicked his boots off. Alvaro flicked Cloud’s forehead back.

"...Children," Sasha muttered, but she was smiling.

Because in this hellish world — these two were her apocalypse-proof shield.

BOOOOM!

The armored van lurched sideways, tires screeching against torn metal.

Sasha gripped the wheel hard — knuckles white.

"What the hell just—?!" Alvaro braced himself against the dashboard.

Cloud was already scanning through the slit in the window.

"Road spikes. We lost multiple wheels."

Sasha cursed under her breath. "Of course they laid a trap up front. That was planned."

Cloud pointed ahead. "Not just spikes. Look."

Sasha followed his line of sight — and her stomach twisted.

Large trucks blocked the highway. Metal barricades reinforced the sides. Gunmen lined the top of the trucks — disciplined, well-formed.

Not scavengers.

Not raiders.

This was a unit.

Another military group?

And then she saw it — a shoulder-mounted launcher lifting into position.

Missile.

High caliber.

One shot and even their miracle-van would be toast.

A voice boomed through a loudspeaker:

"STOP. Or we fire."

Sasha hit the brakes, metal grinding as the van halted.

Even the engine seemed to hold its breath.

Alvaro eyed Sasha. "What’s the move? We can still ram through. Two trucks shouldn’t—"

"No." Cloud cut him off.

"That launcher is heat-locked. The moment we accelerate—we might die."

Sasha bit her lip.

She wanted to argue...

But then she saw him.

Standing at the front of the blockade:

White hair. Clean, pristine clothing — too clean for this world. Glasses reflecting the morning light. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

A cold, clinical gaze that made her heart freeze. Amber eyes that was so familiar.

Even from this distance... his aura was familiar.

No way... It can’t be...

He reminded her of Reid and Alaric. Two men in the past worlds that she greatly cherished.

What’s with this world and she showed her all the men she was with in the past worlds?

Cloud noticed her reaction instantly. His voice dropped, protective and tense.

"Do you know him?"

She didn’t answer right away.

Because truthfully?

She didn’t know.

But something deep in her instincts whispered:

—Villain—

Perhaps he’s one of the villains.

Her target.

Her sweetest opportunity.

Cloud gently placed a hand on her shoulder — steadying her.

He spoke quietly, for her alone: "If we need to run, we run. If we need to fight, we fight. Just say the word."

Alvaro drew a knife, the blade glinting as his expression hardened.

"You call the shots, sweetheart. Anyone who tries to touch you loses a hand."

Two men.

Opposite personalities.

Same resolve: Protect Sasha.

Even if they had to protect her from her own curiosity.

Sasha exhaled slowly, forcing nerves down her throat. They couldn’t win a direct firefight. Not surrounded.

So she forced a wry smile and lifted both hands in surrender.

"Well," she whispered, "let’s pretend we’re obedient for at least five seconds."

Cloud and Alvaro exchanged looks — unwilling but trusting.

Sasha put the van in park and raised her voice:

"Alright! We’re cooperating! No need to redecorate us with explosives!"

From the blockade, white-hair lifted his radio like a conductor preparing an orchestra.

"Step out. All of you. Slowly."

Sasha swallowed.

Her heart drumming war and fate into her ribs. Even his voice was the combination of Reid and Alaric. Intelligent and bored.

Cloud leaned close, murmuring into her ear:

"If he touches you, I’ll put a bullet through his skull."

Alvaro smirked beside her. "And I’ll carve his heart out before he hits the ground."

Sasha forced a breathless laugh she did not feel. "Can we not resort to murder just yet?"

"No promises," Alvaro muttered, and both men grinned in unison — equal parts threat and charm.

Slowly, hands raised, the three climbed down from the van. Dust clung to their boots. The road smelled of diesel and hot metal; somewhere a dog barked and a child cried. The blockade felt less like a roadblock and more like a cage.

The white-haired man watched them with clinical interest, fingers wrapped around a walkie. He didn’t speak; he merely observed. Ben stepped forward and addressed them, voice flat.

"Leave the truck and your gear here. Walk away and we won’t kill you."

Sasha, Cloud, and Alvaro shared a quick, taut glance. They were practiced at this choreography — surrender, assess, bargain.

Ben’s warning was mechanical: "Don’t try anything funny. You move, you die."

Sasha tilted her head, putting on the same bright, dangerous smile that had saved her more than once. "Is it possible we join you instead?" she asked, voice silk over steel. "We’re fighters. I’m Sasha. This is Alvaro — he handles small arms — and Cloud, former military. We pull our weight."

Ben’s laugh was short. "We’ve got fighters. We don’t need freeloaders."

From the trucks, a ripple of murmurs. Sasha saw hungry faces — men and women hardened by scarcity. She also noticed how the white-haired stranger’s gaze lingered on her for longer than etiquette allowed.

"Wait, Ben." The white-haired man raised a hand before Ben could cut him off. "Why not take them in? We could use more fighters. Our losses last week were—" he glanced at a list on a tablet clipped to his arm — "—substantial."