I Am the Rules!

Angela had never seen Cassius' combat skills before. The sheer display of his strength left her awestruck, washing away her previous worries and fears. A confident, gentle smile slowly lit up her exquisite face.

Cassius sat calmly on the front of the car, while Maisie and Angela leaned seductively against his legs, their delicate bodies pressing close. Their expressions radiated satisfaction and enjoyment.

This scene was like a dagger to the hearts of the other men. In a world where it was nearly impossible to find clean, healthy women, Cassius not only had two but also had them willingly by his side. And from the looks on their faces, this wasn't some act.

Cassius gently stroked the heads of both women and said with a relaxed smile, "Just a minor incident. Weren't we supposed to have a meeting? Let's continue."

Cole squinted slightly, his gaze fixated on the blade in Cassius' hand. He was calculating his options, wondering if Cassius might also have a gun hidden somewhere.

With a small chuckle, Cole adjusted his glasses and spoke, "Alright then, let's get on with it. We're here to discuss the recent cases of people impersonating gunmen. By the way, do you have a gun?"

Cassius raised an eyebrow and chuckled softly, "Come on now, I'm a law-abiding citizen. Why would I have something like that?"

Cole exhaled quietly in relief. It seemed the delivery guy didn't have a gun. If he did, showing it now would've instantly asserted dominance over the group.

Of course, Cassius understood all this. But for him, this was all just a game.

"I've worked my whole life. Can't I finally just have some fun for once?" he mused internally.

Cole shifted topics. "On the matter of supplies, we're planning to organize a run in a few days. Judging by your knife skills, how about joining us?"

"Not interested," Cassius replied indifferently as he casually played with a strand of Maisie's hair.

Cole noticed the shift in the atmosphere. The crowd's gazes changed subtly. Cassius, this delivery guy, was challenging his authority. If Cole didn't assert control soon, people might stop taking him seriously.

"So... you must have a pretty large stockpile at home," Cole remarked, his tone laced with hidden intent.

The moment those words left his mouth, all eyes were on Cassius. Beautiful women, food, clean water—Cassius was living a life better than most had before the apocalypse. Envy and jealousy filled the air.

Cassius smirked and leaned back, his hand gently pinching the cheeks of both women, who let out soft, contented moans. "Of course. How else do you think I keep them so well-fed?"

A scrawny, half-starved fat man suddenly shouted from the side, "Damn it! You should've said something earlier. You've got supplies and didn't even think to share with your neighbors? Selfish bastard!"

Cassius gave a shrug. "Well, I'm telling you now, aren't I?"

"Then hand it over."

Cassius laughed loudly, "Why don't you come take it yourself?"

The fat man hesitated, his eyes shifting nervously to the massive warblade tucked against Angela's chest. Then his gaze fell on the nearby corpse, cleanly sliced in half. His courage drained away as quickly as it had come.

Cassius spread his hands and mocked, "What's wrong? If you're not going to make a move, should I just kill you instead?"

Before anyone could react, a razor-sharp throwing knife flashed through the air. The fat man froze, but the real shock came as the man behind him—someone who had previously offered three bottles of water to buy Angela—collapsed with the knife embedded in his forehead.

Cassius scratched his head, chuckling. "Well, that was awkward. Give me another shot, and I promise I won't miss this time." He casually drew another throwing knife, his grin never wavering. The crowd fell silent in stunned horror. Killing someone mid-conversation, as if it were nothing—no one, not even Cole, could pull off something that cold-blooded.

The fat man's knees buckled, and he dropped to the ground, a puddle of urine spreading beneath him. "N-no! I was just kidding!" he stammered in terror.

"I don't joke," Cassius replied with a smile. The next knife sailed through the air, sinking firmly into the fat man's forehead. His body hit the ground with a dull thud.

The silence that followed was absolute. Cassius calmly lit a cigarette, exhaling a ring of smoke. He scanned the crowd and smirked. "So... anyone else want to try their luck? If you can take me down, everything I have is yours—including my lovely big kitty."

"Meow~"

But no one dared to move. Every eye turned toward Cole, their unspoken expectations heavy in the air. Cole understood all too well: if he didn't take control of the situation now, his authority would be shattered by the time the night was over.

Cole forced a smile and gave Cassius a thumbs-up. "You're impressive."

Cassius smiled back, graciously accepting the compliment.

"But there's something you might not know," Cole continued, his voice sharp as he turned his gaze to Angela. "That flight attendant beside you? Her boyfriend already sold her to me. She's mine now."

Angela's heart skipped a beat, her body tensing where she sat. She hadn't expected this. Mick had actually sold her out? And to think he had told her it would only be a temporary arrangement—a few days of "companionship" at most.

Fury flared in Angela's chest. She clenched her fists, biting back the urge to storm over to Mick's corpse and hack it apart all over again.

Cassius nodded with a casual smirk. "Oh? Is that so? Funny, I don't remember hearing about it. Why don't you call her boyfriend over?"

Cole's expression stiffened, his lips twitching. Call her boyfriend? Where the hell was he supposed to find the guy? For all he knew, Cassius had already killed him.

Cole took a deep breath and pulled out a piece of paper. "Here. This is a written contract of sale, signed by her boyfriend."

Cassius scoffed dismissively. "And how do I know you didn't just scribble that yourself?"

Cole pointed to a bright red fingerprint at the bottom of the paper. "Look closely. That's his fingerprint... and it's in blood."

Cassius raised an eyebrow and shrugged. "Interesting, but how do you prove it's actually his? We might need a certified institution to verify it. What do you think?"

Cole's hands began to tremble in rage. His voice dropped into a low, threatening tone. "Don't push me, Cassius. I'm warning you."

Cassius burst out laughing. "Push you? Who the hell still bothers with reason in the apocalypse? Hahaha!"

Across the courtyard, Mallory and the others from Building Four peered through the metal shutters of their storefront, laughing at the scene. They whispered among themselves, convinced that Cole was finished after being played like this.

Cole's face darkened with fury. He ripped off his glasses and shouted, "You're mocking me!"

Cassius leaned back, tilting the heads of both women upward by their chins. He grinned wildly. "This guy just figured out I was toying with him."

The two women covered their mouths, giggling uncontrollably at the taunt.

That was the last straw for Cole. His eyes burned with unrestrained hatred. He roared, "Kill him! I'll give a reward—one case of bottled water. No—two cases! Plus ten packs of beef jerky and twenty packs of instant noodles!"

The crowd gasped. That was an enormous bounty—enough to make anyone consider risking their life.

True to the saying "Heavy rewards bring out brave men," even Cole's own lackeys began stepping forward, gripping knives and inching toward Cassius with murderous intent.

Cassius stood up, pulling the massive warblade from Angela's chest with a sharp hiss. He rolled his neck, cracking it loudly, then launched into action—straight into the kill!

With a single leaping strike, he cleaved one of Cole's strategists clean in half. Blood sprayed across the ground as the two halves fell with a sickening thud. Cassius spun the blade with a flick of his wrist and slashed upward in a brutal arc.

"Ahhh!" Another man screamed in agony as the blade tore through him, his intestines spilling to the ground in a grotesque heap.

Two moves. That was all it took to freeze the crowd in terror. No one dared to come any closer, but Cassius wasn't done. He gripped the warblade tightly and charged back into the fray, his eyes cold and merciless.

"Grab the women!" Cole shouted desperately. If he could take the women hostage, maybe—just maybe—he could force this insane delivery guy to stand down. How the hell was Cassius this strong? What was he, some kind of Shaolin warrior?

Several men, emboldened by the order, ran toward Maisie and Angela. The women, however, made no effort to flee. They stood perfectly still and allowed themselves to be cornered.

One man reached out, his hand inches from grabbing Angela's delicate arm—when thwack! A throwing knife buried itself deep in his forehead. He crumpled to the ground instantly.

Cassius's voice echoed coldly across the yard. "Touch my food supply, and you'll wish you were dead already."

Maisie and Angela, who had been fearful moments ago, now felt their confidence return. They clenched their delicate fists, meowing playfully, "Meow, meow, meow!" toward Cassius in adoration.

Anyone else foolish enough to approach them soon found themselves with a knife in the skull. Cassius's precision was no accident; back home, he'd practiced throwing knives religiously. This wasn't luck. He chuckled inwardly, thinking it might be time to practice his aim with a gun next.

Within moments, four bodies lay lifeless at the women's feet. The message was clear: no one would dare get close again.