Strongest Boyfriend In The Apocalypse: Every Girl Depends On Me!-Chapter 49: Surrounded

They stood before the massive opening in the earth for a long time without speaking, not because there was nothing to say, but because the scale of what lay before them crushed every thought before it could form into words, as the Passage Bar stretched across the broken land like a giant scar carved directly into the body of the world, its edges uneven and collapsing, its depth swallowing light itself, and its interior filled with an endless, layered movement of decaying bodies, shifting shadows, and writhing undead forms whose groans blended together into a constant, heavy sound that vibrated through the ground and into their bones.

The air was thick, suffocating, and rotten, carrying the stench of death, decay, burned flesh, and something older and deeper that made the place feel less like a battlefield and more like a living grave that had never stopped feeding.

Ethan stood at the edge with his hands slightly clenched, his breathing slow but heavy, his eyes fixed on the darkness below, trying to understand how something so large could exist and how the world had allowed itself to become a place where such structures were considered necessary rather than monstrous.

Eva stood close to him, her arms crossed tightly against her chest, her posture rigid, her expression tense as her eyes moved slowly across the pit, while Helen remained just behind them, gripping her weapon with controlled strength, her jaw tight, her face calm on the surface but strained beneath, as if she were holding herself together through pure discipline alone.

Officer Titus stood a few steps back, quiet and composed, his shoulders squared, his gaze steady, carrying the weight of a man who had seen too many graves, too many bodies, too many endings, and had learned how to stand in front of them without breaking.

For a long while, none of them spoke, and the only sounds that filled the space between them were the distant groans rising from the pit, the wind moving across the broken land, and the soft mechanical hum of the van behind them. When Eva finally broke the silence, her voice was low and tight, carrying unease rather than fear.

"This place isn’t right," she said quietly, as if saying it too loudly would somehow awaken something deeper inside the pit.

Helen nodded slowly in agreement, her eyes never leaving the darkness below as she added, "This isn’t control, and it isn’t safety either. This feels like chaos pretending to be order."

Ethan didn’t answer immediately, because his mind was still trying to make sense of what he was seeing, still trying to understand how humanity had reached a point where digging holes in the earth to bury living monsters felt like a system instead of a failure. When he finally spoke, his voice was calm but heavy, layered with thought rather than emotion.

"They’re not just dumping zombies here," he said slowly.

"This place feels maintained, like it’s part of something bigger, like it’s feeding a system instead of fixing one." Officer Titus looked at him with mild surprise, studying him for a moment before responding, "You think it’s more than just disposal?"

Ethan nodded slightly. "Nothing in this world is just one thing anymore."

They continued talking for a long time, exchanging thoughts, doubts, theories, and fears, sometimes agreeing, sometimes clashing, sometimes simply trying to understand something that wasn’t meant to be understood, as Eva argued that these pits were necessary to prevent entire cities from collapsing under endless hordes, while Helen countered that concentrating the undead only made them stronger, more dangerous, and more organized in their chaos.

Ethan listened to both sides, not fully agreeing with either, because something in his instincts kept telling him that the truth sat somewhere deeper, somewhere darker, somewhere hidden behind systems and protocols and clean explanations. Time passed without them realizing it, their focus trapped on the pit, on the sound, on the scale, on the horror of it all.

Then movement came.

Not from the pit.

From the road.

One of the Special Force officers stiffened suddenly, his body reacting before his mind fully processed what his eyes were seeing. "Movement on the right," he said sharply. They all turned at once, and what they saw made their blood run cold as a massive herd of zombies poured onto the road, their bodies broken and twisted, their limbs dragging and colliding, their mouths open in endless groans as they moved forward like a living wave of death, filling the road completely, leaving no space, no gaps, no escape.

For a moment, silence fell over the group, not because there was no sound, but because shock stole their voices, and fear locked their throats. Ethan reacted instantly. "Back," he shouted. "We go back the way we came." They turned again, and froze. 𝒇𝒓𝙚𝒆𝔀𝓮𝓫𝒏𝓸𝙫𝓮𝓵.𝓬𝙤𝙢

Another herd.

Just as large.

Pouring from the path behind them.

The route they had taken to reach the Passage Bar was now completely blocked by another mass of undead bodies, moving forward with the same relentless force, the same hunger, the same endless momentum. They were surrounded. Trapped. Boxed in. No clear path. No safe direction. No open route. Death in front of them, death behind them, and the living grave of the pit beside them.

Helen whispered, her voice barely audible, "We’re trapped." Eva’s face drained of color as she said, "There’s no way out." Ethan felt his chest tighten as reality hit him all at once, the weight of leadership pressing down on him harder than fear itself, because every life around him was now tied to his decisions.

"Form up," he shouted, forcing his voice to stay strong. "Tight formation. No panic. No running."

The fight exploded.

Gunfire ripped through the air as the first wave crashed into them, bodies falling, blood spraying, bullets tearing through decaying flesh, while the groans grew louder and the pressure increased with every second. They fought in controlled chaos, moving as one unit, firing, reloading, shifting positions, dragging each other back, holding the line as the numbers kept growing.

Officer Titus fought like a man who had nothing left to lose, his movements steady, his aim precise, his face calm even as the world around him collapsed into violence. Eva fought with raw fury, her anger fueling her strength, her focus unbreakable. Helen moved with instinct and discipline, never freezing, never hesitating, reacting before danger fully formed.

But the numbers were too many.

The pressure grew.

The line broke.

One officer was dragged down into the mass, his scream cut short as bodies swallowed him whole. Another fell moments later, tripped, overwhelmed, and disappeared beneath the crushing weight of undead flesh. Blood stained the ground. The air filled with smoke and screams and gunfire. Ethan’s heart pounded violently in his chest as his mind raced, searching for solutions that didn’t exist, escape routes that weren’t there, miracles that weren’t real, until one thought surfaced through the chaos.

The Store.

The Gacha.

The allowance.

The risk.

The gamble.

The desperation.

He activated it.

The system flooded his vision.

The roll began.

Time slowed.

The fighting continued around him.

Then the result appeared.

[Emergency Extraction Helicopter Acquired]

His breath caught in his throat as disbelief and hope collided inside his chest. He looked up and screamed, "MOVE TO THE EDGE! NOW!"

The helicopter materialized in the air above them, massive and loud, its blades tearing through the sky, its lights flooding the battlefield with blinding white brightness, its presence unreal and overwhelming as the sound alone caused the zombies to turn toward it in confusion. The rope dropped. The team moved. They fought forward. They dragged the wounded. They climbed. They pulled each other up. One by one, they reached safety.

Then Ethan turned.

Officer Titus stood still.

Blood soaked his sleeve.

A bite.

A deep bite.

Clear, and most literally final.

"No," Ethan said, his voice breaking. "We can still save you."

Titus shook his head slowly, his expression calm, almost peaceful. "I lost my family a long time ago," he said quietly. "I’ve been living on borrowed time." He placed a firm hand on Ethan’s arm. "Get them to Atlanta. Get them to safety. That’s my ending."

Ethan’s eyes filled with tears. "I’m not leaving you."

"Yes, you are," Titus said gently.

He stepped back.

Turned.

Faced the herd.

And walked into it.

The helicopter rose into the air as the zombies swarmed below, as the pit roared beneath them, as the world burned and collapsed and screamed, while Ethan watched a man choose death so others could live, carrying that weight into the sky as they flew toward Atlanta, alive, broken, changed forever, and marked by sacrifice that would never leave them.

.

.

[A/N: After going through what I have written so far, I have to say that I haven’t been entirely good, but I promise to do better. I have planned this story for a long time but couldn’t write it because of my acads, now I think I have lost almost every touch.]

[So what do we do? A rewrite or a total dropping? Or should I just keep writing?]