Harem Legion: Queens of the Apocalypse-Chapter 188 She Died for a Misunderstanding

After arranging shelter for the rescued women, Magnus led the team to the cannery warehouse. It wasn’t entirely empty, but out of six large buildings, they only managed to find a dozen boxes of canned food.

Ashton had mentioned they might have stashed the rest somewhere. Unfortunately, the two prisoners had tried to escape and were shot dead - no one knew where the food had been hidden. 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦

Ten thousand boxes - where could that kind of stockpile be hidden?

With this on his mind, Magnus climbed into one of the trailers and asked the women inside. None of them spoke up - all silent. But Cynthia West, the first one he’d rescued, stood straight and seemed to want to report something.

"Just speak normally," Magnus stopped her before she could go into military formality.

Cynthia flushed and stammered, "I... I think I heard them mention two men. They were in charge of Laird Village. They went there a few times every month. Maybe... maybe the cans are there."

"Laird Village? Know where that is?"

"I do!" she nodded firmly.

"Good. Wait here. I’ll get you some clothes. You’re taking us there."

Magnus got out, stripped a uniform off one of the dead soldiers, gave it a quick dusting, and brought it back for Cynthia to change into. Once she had it on, he motioned for her to follow.

"Lucy."

Catching Lucy, he said, "Take fifty people. Get those women back to the underground grain stockpile. Tell Liana what’s going on. Then bring more trucks. If there really are ten thousand boxes, we’ll need extra storage."

"Got it." Lucy nodded. She hesitated, looked like she wanted to speak, then leaned close and whispered into Magnus’s ear.

"Once your restrictions are lifted, about that five-times-a-month deal you promised Molly - don’t forget, I want in. Or I’ll tell everyone what happened today."

She walked off like nothing happened, leaving Magnus shaking his head. All this just ’cause I pinched her thigh? This whole thing’s gotten outta hand.

Five trucks loaded with food, five carrying the newly rescued, and fifteen empties with two sleeper buses left. Magnus brought Cynthia into his lead vehicle.

Ashton hadn’t left the truck the whole time, sitting silently with her head down. She didn’t even notice Cynthia had gotten in until Magnus took the driver’s seat and Cynthia sat up front.

"Boss... Where are we going?" she finally asked.

"Laird Village. Let her guide you."

It wasn’t far - less than five minutes, the cannery was right between the two villages.

Once they arrived, Magnus sprayed Cynthia down with bug repellent and got out with her.

"You know this place well?"

She shook her head. "Never been here. I just know about it. I’m not local. My aunt works at the cannery..."

Talking about her family made Cynthia tear up. Magnus didn’t stop her. He just stood and listened as she spoke, quietly and steadily. After seven or eight minutes, she’d finally said her piece.

Realizing she’d been talking about her personal life for so long - with their team leader no less - and he hadn’t interrupted, hadn’t rushed her, just listened like that... Cynthia’s cheeks grew warm. But mixed in that embarrassment was a strong, rising wave of gratitude.

"You’re a really good man, Captain," Cynthia murmured, tears still in her voice. Then, low as a whisper, almost too soft to hear, she added, "But my body’s... not clean anymore..."

Magnus heard it. Of course he did. But he didn’t reply, acted like he hadn’t caught it. Some words, there just ain’t a way to answer.

All 250 female team members swept through the village. Before long, they started coming back in twos and threes, reporting to Magnus - civil houses, cellars, storage sheds - everywhere was packed with crates of canned food.

The cans were tin, sealed tight. Magnus barked some orders, had the group move everything to the main cement road running through the heart of Laird Village.

"Molly, take a few people and scout the nearby villages. Make sure this ain’t the only stash spot," he called out.

They kept at it till nightfall. Darkness fell, and the village road looked like it had been swallowed by mountains of crates. Molly came tapping on the window of Magnus’ off-road vehicle, face flushed with excitement. She hopped in, grinning.

"Magnus, we counted them all. Total’s 14,886 cases - all meat cans. There’re three kinds: ham, beef, and braised pork."

Fifteen thousand.

Magnus had helped with moving boxes earlier and had a rough estimate, figured maybe ten thousand tops. Didn’t expect it to be this much.

Fifteen thousand crates, each with twenty-four cans. That’s 360,000 cans. Liana’s gonna lose her damn mind when she hears.

By his guess, Lucy and her group wouldn’t make it here till late into the night. Magnus decided they’d camp here for the night.

Back when Lucy took the food trucks out, Magnus had held back a few sacks of rice. Almost every villager’s backyard had dry corn stalks - perfect for firewood. The team got moving, setting up fires and pots, cutting into the rice. As for the dishes... cans, of course. All-you-can-eat tonight.

Once dinner was done, Magnus had the women rotate sentry duty. The rest - 250 of them - had to squeeze into the two sleeper buses, sharing beds two by two. No way he was joining that mess. He headed back to his off-roader, planning to sleep there.

Climbed in and spotted Ashton still inside. That made him pause. He cleared his throat. "Ashton, go catch a spot on the bus. Don’t squeeze in here."

After what happened earlier today, the air between them was thick.

She didn’t say a word, just leaned into the steering wheel. On the backseat, Cynthia sat curled up. Magnus glanced at her too. "You should hit the bus too. I’ll have someone get you a spot. A little crowded, but it’s warmer."

"I’m fine here," Cynthia replied softly.

She didn’t know the other women well. Plus, maybe she figured they’d look down on her.

Since the world ended, she hadn’t bathed once. Been through who knows what. Even the prettiest girl would carry a stench by now.

Magnus lit a cigarette, then another. Neither of the women budged. He didn’t push it. He reclined the passenger seat flat and lay back, trying to shut his brain down for some sleep.

A tiny hand crept up above his head. He opened his eyes. Cynthia’s face hovered close.

"Captain, I... I washed my hands," she whispered.

He knew she just wanted to repay him somehow. He didn’t stop her. Let her knead his temples. Somewhere along the way, he drifted off.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been out when suddenly a hand slapped him hard across the forehead again and again -

"Captain! Wake up! She’s dead!"