CHAPTER 73: RACING BACK TO THE SUPERMARKET

The leader of the gang and his goons were surprised by the sudden movement of the car Riku was driving.

"Fire!"

The bald man’s voice cut like a whip, and instantly crackled of gunfire filled the air.

Sparks skittered across the Rezvani’s armored plating as bullets hammered into its sides, pinging like hail against steel. The windshield bloomed with spiderweb cracks, but the reinforced laminate held.

Riku’s jaw tightened. The wheel vibrated under his grip, but the SUV pushed forward like a beast unfazed. The Rezvani was built for war—civilian luxury on the outside, military bones within. These bastards could dump a magazine each and it would still shrug them off.

He swerved the tank-like SUV toward the pickup, clipping its fender. The vehicle crunched sideways with a metallic scream, one of the armed men stumbling back with a curse.

That was when the walkie-talkie on the dash erupted again, Hana’s panicked voice tearing through the static.

"Onichan! They broke in! I hear them inside—gunfire—!"

Her words were cut off by the distant, muffled tat-tat-tat of automatic weapons echoing through the radio feed.

Riku’s stomach dropped. His heart slammed against his ribs so hard it almost drowned out the gunfire pelting his vehicle.

"Hana!" he barked, one hand yanking the walkie up, the other keeping the Rezvani steady. "Stay with Suzune, Miko, and Ichika!"

Static swallowed her reply, followed by a faint sob. Then silence.

Riku’s grip shook around the wheel, rage boiling up hot in his veins. His vision narrowed until all he saw were the men outside, their smirks and sneers, their weapons spitting fire against his fortress.

"You picked the wrong supermarket," Riku growled under his breath.

Meanwhile, the leader of the gang hopped inside the pickup vehicle.

"We are going to chase that vehicle. That man must be related to the people in the supermarket," he said.

"How did you know, boss?" one of his men asked.

"The moment you told me that our men broke through, he suddenly reacted," the leader simply explained.

The pickup roared, coughing black smoke as the bald man gunned it forward. The sedan slid in behind, its tires screeching, while the armored car brought up the rear, spikes catching moonlight like a row of teeth.

Inside the Rezvani, Riku shifted gears, the SUV surging ahead with the guttural growl of its V8. His jaw was tight, eyes flicking between the road ahead and the mirrors behind.

"They’re chasing," he muttered under his breath, fingers drumming the wheel once before gripping it hard again. His heart still hammered from Hana’s call, her panicked voice echoing in his head. They’re inside... gunfire...

He slammed the accelerator, weaving past rusting cars and debris.

The radio on the dash hissed, then Miko’s voice cut through.

"Riku! They’ve breached the first floor, and they are killing everyone inside! We are in the basement, and we are locking ourselves here. Suzune, Ichika, and I still have the Glock 17 that you gave us, but we only have one mag and it’s in the pistol. I don’t think we can fight someone who isn’t a zombie."

Riku grabbed the walkie-talkie and responded. "Miko, you used that gun for self-defense and thought of the armed invaders that they are zombies. Don’t hesitate! If you encounter them just shoot!"

There was a pause on the other end of the radio. Riku could hear her breathing—shaky, uneven—but then Miko’s voice came back, firmer this time.

"...Understood. We’ll protect Hana, no matter what."

The words steadied him, but only slightly. Riku shoved the walkie back into its cradle, eyes narrowing as headlights flared in the rearview mirror. The pickup was closing in, its engine snarling like a wounded beast, while the sedan and the spiked armored car fanned out, boxing him from three sides.

"Think, Riku. Buy time for them."

The Rezvani roared as he slammed the gas, barreling through an overturned vending machine. Metal screeched and cans clattered across the street, scattering like shrapnel. The SUV didn’t slow—its armor ate the impact and kept pushing forward.

But the bastards behind him weren’t letting up.

A spray of bullets rattled the back windows, white cracks webbing across the reinforced glass. Sparks danced as rounds pinged harmlessly off the body, but the noise was deafening, drowning out even the Rezvani’s growl.

In the pickup, the bald leader leaned out the window, AR braced against the frame. His cold eyes locked on Riku through the chaos. He fired again, short, disciplined bursts, rounds hammering the SUV’s tailgate.

"Box him in! Don’t let him circle back!" he barked.

"You guys are so persistent," Riku muttered, his lips curling into a grim line. His fingers flicked across the console, eyes scanning the Rezvani’s secondary systems.

There it was—factory-installed countermeasures. Civilian luxury dressed up as a fortress. Tear gas nozzles. Smoke screen dispensers. Even strobe lights meant to disorient attackers during high-risk extractions.

"Perfect."

He slammed a switch. With a sharp hiss, canisters vented from the rear bumper, and a plume of thick gray smoke billowed out behind the SUV, swallowing the street whole.

"Argh what the hell!" the leader squinted from the sudden thick smoke coming out from behind the armored car.

Riku smirked. "Good luck hitting what you can’t see."

Another flick, and strobing lights fired from the Rezvani’s behind, a blinding pulse of white that cut through the smoke like lightning. Through the mirrors, Riku caught the shapes of men shielding their eyes, rifles dropping as they stumbled in disarray.

The gap was his.

He yanked the wheel, Rezvani surging into an alley between two gutted shops. Concrete walls scraped the sides, sparks spitting as mirrors brushed brick, but the SUV forced its way through. The roar of the pickup’s engine dulled behind him, fading into chaos.

Riku’s chest heaved, knuckles aching from the grip on the wheel. But there was no relief. Hana’s scream, Miko’s fear, Suzune and Ichika’s desperate courage,it all rang louder than the Rezvani’s growl.

He pressed the accelerator harder, barreling out of the alley back toward the supermarket.

"Hold on," he whispered into the dash, eyes blazing. "I’m coming."