Surviving In This Filthy World As A Novel Villain-Chapter 101: Ethan Desperate Grovels

Branches scratched against Ethan Carter’s face as he stumbled through the dense undergrowth, each ragged breath tearing through his lungs.

His blood-soaked shirt clung to his body, and every step sent shockwaves of pain through his injured shoulder and back. His vision wavered, dark spots dancing at the edges of his sight, but he forced himself to keep moving.

’I can’t stop. Not now…’

Somewhere behind him, the distant sound of search teams echoed through the night, footsteps, breaking branches, faint voices calling to one another. They were closing in.

Ethan gritted his teeth, wiping sweat from his brow with a trembling hand. His legs burned from exhaustion, and the blood loss was making it harder to think straight. Just when he thought he couldn’t push any further, a shadow emerged from the trees ahead.

"Who’s there?!" Ethan’s instincts flared, and he staggered to a halt, fists clenching despite his weakness.

The figure stepped closer, illuminated by a shaft of moonlight filtering through the canopy. It was an older man, his clothes torn and worn from rough living. His eyes widened as they met Ethan’s.

"Ethan? Is that you?" The man’s voice held both surprise and concern. "It’s me, Harold, Harold Winters!"

Ethan blinked in confusion, his sluggish mind struggling to process the sudden appearance. "Mr. Harold…? What are you doing here?"

Harold rushed toward him, eyes flicking over Ethan’s bloodied form. "Good God, what happened to you?!"

"I… I can’t explain right now. They’re after me… I need to—"

"Say no more, kid!" Harold cut him off, slipping an arm around Ethan’s waist to support his weight. "Come on! We’ve gotta get you out of here before they catch up."

Ethan hesitated for a moment, but exhaustion and blood loss dulled his instincts. Without questioning why Harold was here, he leaned into the older man’s support, grateful for the help.

’At least I’m not alone…’ They staggered forward together, branches snapping beneath their feet. But after only a few steps…

Schlick!

A cold, sharp sensation pierced Ethan’s chest, just below his heart. Pain exploded through his body, stealing the air from his lungs. He gasped, stumbling as his knees buckled beneath him.

"What…?" Ethan’s breath hitched as he looked down. A glint of silver caught his eye, Harold’s hand gripping the hilt of a bloodied knife buried in his chest. His gaze shot up, meeting Harold’s eyes.

"Mr.… Harold…?" His voice cracked with disbelief.

Harold’s face twisted into a mask of bitter rage. "Damn you, Ethan! You ruined my life!"

The words hit harder than the knife.

"What are you… talking about…?" Ethan choked out, blood bubbling on his lips.

"Don’t play dumb!" Harold spat. "Because of you, my family fell apart! I lost everything, my home, my business! You lived in luxury while I had to scrape by like a rat! I won’t let you keep living your perfect life while I rot in the gutter!"

Before Ethan could react, Harold twisted the knife and yanked it free, sending another wave of agony through his chest.

"AAAHH—!!" Ethan’s scream echoed through the forest, scattering birds from the treetops. His vision blurred as blood poured from the wound. His legs gave out, and he collapsed to his knees.

’This is it… I’m going to die here…’

But somewhere deep inside, a fire still burned.

’No… Not like this!’

Gritting his teeth, Ethan lunged forward with the last of his strength. His hand shot out, grabbing Harold’s wrist before he could strike again.

The older man’s eyes widened in shock as Ethan wrenched the knife from his grasp and, in one swift motion, slashed across Harold’s throat.

"Guh—!" Harold staggered back, clutching his neck as blood gushed between his fingers. He collapsed onto the forest floor, eyes wide with disbelief even as the light faded from them.

Panting heavily, Ethan clutched the knife tightly, his vision swimming as he struggled to stay conscious. The world around him seemed to spin, and each breath came shallower than the last.

’I have to keep moving… If I stop now, it’s over.’

Staggering to his feet, he pressed a hand against his bleeding chest and forced himself forward, stumbling blindly through the forest.

By the time Ethan reached the mountain’s halfway point, his body was on the verge of collapse. His clothes were soaked with blood, and every step felt like walking through thick mud.

Yet, through sheer willpower, he kept moving, until he saw a figure waiting by the roadside.

The faint glow of a cigarette burned against the darkness, illuminating the man’s sharp features as he pkay with his lighter into the cool night air.

His tailored black coat hung loosely over his shoulders, and the faint gleam of a wristwatch caught the moonlight as he flicked clink gis lighter again.

Ethan’s heart clenched in his chest.

’…Alex Reid.’ The realization hit him like a punch to the gut. The cold glint in Alex’s eyes, the faint smirk curling at his lips, it all made sense now.

"This… this was all your doing!" Ethan’s voice was hoarse, thick with pain and fury. "You planned everything! You set That bastard old man on me… you turned old bastard Harold against me… All of this, because you wanted me dead!"

Alex took a slow clink of his lighter again, exhaling a deep coldy breath without a word. His eyes, dark and unflinching, watched Ethan with a calm, almost bored expression.

The silence was deafening.

Ethan staggered forward, gripping the bloodied knife tightly in his hand. Rage burned through his veins, pushing back the haze of pain.

This chapt𝓮r is updat𝒆d by ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom.

"Why, Alex?! WHY?!"

Compared to Ethan Carter’s bloodshot eyes blazing with fury, Alex Reid remained composed, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

"That’s right." His voice was calm, almost casual, as he flicked from his lighter at Ethan Direction. "Everything that’s happened tonight was my doing. But so what?"

"You—!" Ethan staggered forward, his blood-soaked fingers trembling from pain and rage. But the words caught in his throat.

Because Alex was right.

With his body battered from gunshots, shrapnel wounds, and stab injuries, Ethan could barely stand. His vision swam, and his strength was rapidly fading. Fighting back was impossible.

But even so— His thoughts remain the same.

’I can’t die here. I have to survive… No matter what!’

Ethan forced one foot forward, then another. His steps were unsteady, but determination burned in his eyes as he closed the distance between them. Then, without hesitation—

THUD!

He dropped to his knees before Alex.

Gone was the pride of a so-called "child of destiny." Ethan no longer cared about dignity. Right now, survival was all that mattered.

"Please, Alex!" His voice cracked with desperation as he bowed his head. "Let me go this time! I swear, if I make it out of this alive, I’ll repay you a thousand times over!"

Without waiting for a response, Ethan began bowing repeatedly, his forehead striking the rocky ground with dull thuds.

Blood smeared the dirt as he kowtowed again and again, each impact more frantic than the last.

Alex watched in silence, his expression unreadable. He’d anticipated a final struggle, maybe some desperate attack, but this? This was almost disappointing.

’So this is the so-called ’chosen one’…’ Still, watching Ethan grovel at his feet brought a twisted sense of satisfaction.

After a moment, Alex exhaled a slow breath, Putting his lighter aside before reaching into his coat pocket. He pulled out a car key and casually tossed it onto the ground in front of Ethan.

"Alright, enough of that. Take the car and go."

"…Y-You’re letting me go?" Ethan’s breath hitched as he stared at the key, his eyes wide with disbelief.

…

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