Leveling Up Wives In The Apocalypse

"Just be careful!" a small call reached everyone's ears right as the barrier fell down.

And just two seconds after the last of the barricades ceased to exist, a burly man in what looked like his forties came out.

He had his body fully covered in some sort of fluffy armor pieced together with mere duck tape. He held a handgun in his left and what looked like a makeshift axe in his right.

"Huh?" the man took a step forward... and stood still, baffled by the sight.

He expected the zombies to come rushing at him the second he stepped beyond the barrier... only to be faced with the sight of zombie corpses resting on the floor in pools of their own blood.

The man gulped his saliva before taking a step forward. He then poked the nearest corpse with the tip of his ax, checking whether it was a trap or if the zombie was really dead.

Then, and only then, did he look around.

At first, he turned his head to the left, opposite to where Mathew's group calmly waited. And then, he turned his head toward the party responsible for clearing all the zombies in the vicinity.

The man's eyes opened up wide. His face twisted in wrath.

Then, without even a second of hesitation, he raised his left hand, pointing the muzzle of his gun at Mathew.

"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?!"

The man's scream alerted the rest of his party, causing all of them to pour out of their former hideout.

First, another man of a similar age came out. Then, two adults followed, a man and a woman, each appearing to be somewhere in the middle of their twenties. Then, a trio composed of two schoolgirls and one middle-school boy followed, keeping to the back of the entire group.

"I asked a damn question!" the leader of the group called out, going as far as to pull the hammer of his pistol to the back.

'What is he, a period drama actor?' Mathew thought, staring at the man with an amused smile.

"This is your last chance to speak!" the man called out again, only for his similarly aged companion to pull out a shotgun on Mathew's party, followed by the two adults raising their own pistols with hesitation written all over their faces.

"Girls, Norbert," Mathew muttered in a low voice.

As much as he was amused by the situation... the other party pulled their guns on them. And that meant the situation no longer called for any joy or carelessness.

'I don't know if we can survive a gunshot,' he thought, his eyes turning towards the black hole at the front of the shotgun. 'Especially from this,' he thought, allowing his face to darken and reflect the state of his soul.

"Stay back," Mathew said, taking a step forward himself.

"STAY WHERE YOU ARE!" the leader of the group shouted.

His hands shook a little. And Mathew could easily hear the panic in his voice.

'He doesn't seem like someone who claimed someone's life,' he thought.

Yet, as if to not escalate the potentially dangerous situation, Mathew listened in to the order and stood down.

"Since you guys are like that..." Mathew said, leaning his head over his shoulder as he allowed a small smile to make its way back to his lips. "Then I believe we need to establish a certain truth first."

The guns in the hands of the other party shook when they all twitched.

'They were wary of this level of zombies,' Mathew thought, confirming the most important element of the puzzle he was facing. 'And that means...'

'Mind's flesh!' he called forth, ready to make use of every ability he had to keep his group out of harm's way.

And no matter how much stronger than your usual mortal they could be right now a gun... Any sort of firearm could still be a potential threat!

So, rather than hoping for the best, Mathew simply used the overabundant mana bustling in his veins to construct invisible hands. And before the other party could as much as open their mouth, his hands already grasped the front of every gun aiming at Mathew's group.

"What truth?!" the leader of the other party asked, dropping his axe and adding his other hand to the handle of his gun.

'He must've noticed he was shaking,' Mathew realized.

That alone, coupled with how the man quickly came to the same realization and took measures to counteract it... It was more than enough to earn Mathew's respect.

"The simple truth that you guys can't do anything against me," Mathew said, shrugging his shoulders and tugging on the strings of his spell at the same time.

'Go!' he gave a mental order to his mind's flesh.

His invisible hands jerked off the guns, pulling their muzzles away from the direction of Mathew's group. Then and only then did Mathew apply some real pressure, forcing the guns out of the other party's hands before throwing them on the ground.

"And the truth is that I can do however I like with you," he added.

'If I need to play a villain, then so be it,' Mathew thought, reaching out to his side before pulling at the string that held his saber's sheath to his belt. He undid the string with a single pull before brandishing his still-sheathed saber.

"What are you..." the leader of the group was the first one to pull his eyes away from the gun he just lost and towards the weapon Mathew raised. He squinted his eyes upon seeing Mathew raise and then point his still sheath-covered saber at the ax he dropped before.

"Get your weapon," Mathew ordered in a cold voice and a perfectly empty look on his face.

The middle-aged man gritted his teeth. He then fell on one knee, grabbed the handle of his makeshift ax, and rose back to his feet.

"Listen, can't we just..." the female took a step forward with her hands raised.

"Stay back!" the leader of her group quickly put her back in her place, moving to the side to put himself on the line for Mathew's potential attack. "It's not like they are going to listen to us either way!" he shouted, raising his ax above his head as he leaned forward, clearly about to charge.

"Go easy on them, dear," Nadia pleaded from behind Mathew's back.

She didn't try to dispute the need for a confrontation... but the way the situation was developing didn't sit well with her either.

"I will see what I can do," Mathew whispered, patiently waiting for the other party to rush forward.

The man took his first step. His forehead was full of sweat. He grasped at the handle of his makeshift ax so tightly that the whites of his knuckles showed on his skin.

And then, he pushed his right leg forward, about to jump into a charge.

'That's it,' Mathew thought, leaning forward a bit. 'Do your worst!' he encouraged the man with his thoughts right as he sent a saber-wielding arm to the back. 'Only then,' Mathew's eyes flashed as he jumped forth, covering half of the distance that separated him from his enemy in a single step, 'will you properly submit!'