Apocalyptic World: Surviving with my husband and my cute little babies-Chapter 70: Fight for your life

"Since you’re done putting away the items, both of you come with me," the dirty man commanded, a lecherous smile curling at the corners of his lips.

Lydia felt a wave of anxiety as she racked her brain, desperately trying to devise a plan to escape from this hellish situation.

"Team Leader, what about these remaining women? Can we have some fun with them, too?" one of the subordinates asked, a smirk creeping onto his face.

"It’s up to you; just make sure to finish them off after I’m done so we can all head to the bunker together," the dirty man replied casually as if discussing a trivial matter.

"Yes, sir, thank you for the gift," the subordinate said, his eyes gleaming excitedly.

The women were now in a state of panic, horrified by the men’s blatant intentions and the threat they posed.

Fear coursed through the room as they realized the gravity of their situation.

Afterward, the dirty man swiftly left the room, walking closely behind the two women, his gun trained on their backs.

One of the women was crying, her sobs echoing in the tense atmosphere, while Lydia, feigning distress, frantically searched for clues about her surroundings.

"Move faster! Go to the biggest room and stop loafing around!" the dirty man barked impatiently, irritation lacing his voice.

As they approached the largest room, Lydia attempted to communicate with the other woman, hoping to devise a plan to sabotage the dirty man. But the woman kept crying helplessly as if the world were ending.

At that moment, Lydia realized she could only rely on herself. She steeled her resolve, determined to survive and leave the room alive.

But she couldn’t help but curse.

’F*ck this situation. Calm down, Lydia!’

"Go inside now! Move faster!" the dirty man ordered.

The other woman rushed in, huddling in a corner of the bed as tears streamed down her cheeks.

Meanwhile, Lydia took her place on the opposite side of the bed, bowing slightly to appear submissive while discreetly surveying the room.

The dirty man shot an annoyed glance at the sobbing woman, clearly irritated by her display of weakness.

"Crying, crying—just do your best to please me. Who knows, I might change my mind and let you join the base, even though you’re ugly," he sneered.

Then he turned his gaze to Lydia, his eyes filled with undisguised lust. "Though you’re also ugly, I see your figure is nice. Be good over there, and you will be my main dish later."

Lydia still bowed her head and remained silent, feigning fear to lower the filthy man’s guard.

She glanced around the room and noticed a heavy metal chair on her side and a bottle of beer tucked away in the lower cabinet.

Her mind raced as she considered her options.

"You! Stop crying, or you won’t be able to cry later," the dirty man jeered, pointing his gun at the other woman.

"Lay down in front of me now and undress!"

The woman, now in utter distress, pleaded with him for mercy.

"Please, just let me go," she sobbed, her voice trembling with fear as she recoiled from his menacing gaze.

The woman turned to Lydia, desperation flashing in her eyes.

"This woman is more beautiful than me and has a nice figure. Please, not me..."

Lydia almost choked at the woman’s words, disbelief at her stupid nonsense.

’What the hell is this woman doing?’

The dirty man’s sinister smile widened as he glanced between them.

"Don’t worry. The two of you will serve me later."

He dragged the other woman to the center of the bed, starting to tear her dress.

"Noo..." the woman cried, panic rising in her voice.

"Stop moving. This will feel good later, and you’ll like it," he taunted, his tone dripping with malice.

Lydia observed intently, her heart racing as she watched the dirty man and his gun. She waited for the moment he would unbuckle his pants and set the gun down on the other side of the bed, hoping for a chance to act later.

And he did; he placed the gun on the other side of the bed, but it was out of her reach.

The gist was he no longer held it, leaving him momentarily vulnerable.

’Distract him; this is the time to cry and annoy him! Distract him....’

Lydia racked her brain, praying that the other woman would truly divert the dirty man’s attention.

"Don’t ahhhh... stop... stop... huhuhuhuh. Don’t tear my dress!" the woman cried, her voice trembling with desperation.

As the dirty man leaned in closer to the other woman, Lydia saw her chance.

With a surge of adrenaline, she grabbed the heavy metal chair and swung it forcefully at the dirty man, catching him off guard and making him stumble to the side.

In the midst of the impact, he reached for the gun, but the force of the chair sent it skidding away from the upper left of the bed.

Now, Lydia faced two choices: she could try to reach the gun, but it was too far away, and the man would likely recover before she could get to it.

Alternatively, she could lunge at him to create a distraction, giving the other woman a chance to grab the gun.

Without hesitation, she lunged at the man, shouting to the other woman, "Get the gun!"

The woman was momentarily stunned, but as soon as she heard Lydia’s command, she scrambled out of bed to retrieve the weapon.

The man’s shoulder throbbed from the impact, but he quickly regained his composure.

When he saw Lydia lunging at him, he kicked her out with force, sending her crashing into the cabinet.

"Urgh!" Lydia gasped, pain radiating through her side as she fought to stand.

"You bitches! I’m going to kill you all—no more playing!" the dirty man shouted angrily as he charged toward the gun, his pace hampered by the injury to his left side.

Meanwhile, the other woman had already snatched up the weapon and aimed it at him, her finger trembling on the trigger. When she pressed it, nothing happened.

Stunned, she quickly checked the weapon and realized it was safety-locked. After turning off the safety, she prepared to fire, but before she could pull the trigger, the filthy man was already beside her.

"Give me the gun," the dirty man said with a menacing smile, his anger boiling over in this chaos.