Surviving In This Filthy World As A Novel Villain-Chapter 100: Run Ethan Run

"Shit!" Ethan’s body moved before his mind could catch up. Driven by pure survival instinct, he lunged sideways into a desperate roll, feeling the searing heat of a bullet slicing through his shoulder.

Pain flared through his nerves, but adrenaline shoved it aside as he scrambled to his feet and sprinted toward the nearest cover, a large boulder jutting from the hillside.

Bullets chased his heels, striking sparks from the rocks as the ground kicked up in bursts of dirt and shattered stone.

His breath burned in his throat, his wounded shoulder throbbing with each step, but somehow, impossibly, he made it behind the boulder.

Pressing his back against the rough stone, Ethan clutched his bleeding shoulder and gasped for air.

"Dammit… dammit…!" His pulse pounded in his ears, nearly drowning out the distant shouts of the gunmen. ’Why?! Why is this happening?!’

From beyond the boulder, the old man’s voice echoed through the night, calm, cold, and final.

"Ethan Carter… you should’ve known better. No one crosses the Wells family and walks away."

The thunderous roar of machine guns split the air, and the muzzle flashes painted the night in bursts of orange light.

"Shit!" Ethan’s heart pounded as instinct kicked in.

Without thinking, he dove to the side, rolling across the dirt in a desperate attempt to escape the hail of bullets. Dust exploded around him as the ground was torn apart by gunfire.

Even with the chaos, Ethan’s luck or perhaps something more, saved him. Though it should have been a death trap, he only took a single bullet to the shoulder.

Gritting his teeth through the pain, he pushed himself up and scrambled toward the nearest cover, a large boulder jutting from the hillside.

Panting hard, he pressed his back against the rough stone, blood soaking through his shirt. His shoulder throbbed with every heartbeat, but at least he was alive. For now.

"Oii… you fucking old man! What the hell are you doing?!" Ethan shouted, his voice echoing off the hillside.

The old man’s calm, almost amused voice answered from beyond the rock. "Isn’t it obvious? I’m here to take your life."

The words hit harder than the bullet. Ethan’s mind spun as the pieces fell into place.

’So that’s why he was so cautious… He wasn’t preparing to kill someone else, he was preparing to kill me! And worst of all… I helped him design the perfect trap for myself.’

Ethan clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as the reality of the situation sank in.

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’If I hadn’t left myself a backup plan… I’d be dead already.’

"Damn you, fucking old man!" Ethan hissed under his breath. "You actually made me dig my own grave!"

The old man, meanwhile, watched the scene unfold with a faint frown. Despite the overwhelming firepower, Ethan had managed to escape their initial assault.

He’s faster than I expected… and luckier and then he remembered the words of Alex ’he is like a cockroach’.

Without hesitation, The old man raised his hand again. "Next squad…move in!"

Three black-clad figures emerged from the shadows, each holding a grenade in their gloved hands.

"Fire in the hole!" One of them called as the grenades arced through the air, their metal casings glinting in the moonlight before landing near Ethan’s hiding spot.

Ethan’s eyes widened. "What the hell?! Grenades now?! Isn’t this bit of overkill?!"

The realization hit like a punch to the gut, this wasn’t just a trap. This was enough firepower to wipe out an entire platoon of a military.

’They’re not taking any chances… with me.’

Despite the shock, Ethan didn’t hesitate. His survival instincts kicked in once more. Ignoring the pain in his shoulder, he dove forward, rolling across the dirt as explosions erupted behind him.

The blasts sent shockwaves through the air, and sharp fragments of stone and metal tore through the space where he’d been seconds earlier.

Heat and dust filled his lungs as he pushed himself onward, weaving through the chaos with desperate determination.

His body screamed in protest as shrapnel sliced through his back, leaving a deep gash that burned with searing pain. Still, he kept moving. His only thought was to escape.

’Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Don’t stop!’

Finally, he broke through the barrage, stumbling into the cover of the nearby forest. Branches slapped at his face, and roots threatened to trip his feet, but Ethan kept going, driven by the primal need to survive.

The old man watched the forest’s edge in silence, his eyes narrowing as Ethan vanished into the trees.

The faint hum of insects and the distant crackle of flames were the only sounds that remained.

"…He escaped?" The disbelief in his voice was clear.

One of the gunmen approached cautiously. "Sir, he’s wounded. There’s no way he’ll make it far."

Edwin and the old man frown deepened as Edwin pulled out his phone and dialed. After two rings, the call connected.

"Mr. Alex… I have to apologize. It seems that the cockroach managed to slip through our net after all."

On the other end of the line, Alex remained silent for a moment, the faint crackle of his lighter audible through the phone.

"…I’m not surprised." His voice was calm, almost amused. ’The so-called ’protagonist of fate’—always finding a way to survive, no matter the odds.’ He exhaled slowly, the sound of his sigh drifting through the other line.

’Even with his luck running dry, he still managed to cheat death one more time.’

The old man glanced toward the forest. "Don’t worry though. He won’t get far. We’ve got teams combing the area. It’s only a matter of time before they find him."

"See that they do," Alex replied, his voice taking on a sharper edge.

’I’ll be waiting at the mountain pass. He has no other way down. When he reaches me… I’ll finish this myself.’

….

Halfway down the mountain, a sleek black car sat parked beside the narrow road. Smoke curled lazily from the half-finished cigarette between Alex’s fingers as he gazed out over the valley below.

There’s only one path off this mountain.

Alex tapped the ash from his cigarette, his sharp eyes scanning the darkness with patient anticipation.

’You can run, Ethan Carter… but tonight, you won’t escape.’

…

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