Surviving the Apocalypse with my Multiplier System - Chapter 191

Chapter 191: Impenetrable Fortress
At the entrance of the base, Dillon stood victoriously.

The few armed guards were quickly dealt with, leaving the gate wide open.

“Everyone, move in! If you’re met with any resistance, feel free to kill on sight!” he announced before motioning for them to flood into the base.

The large group of men stormed in, securing every area of the base.

Most of the residents didn’t even blink when they saw the armed men approach, making them question what was happening.

“Isn’t it strange that no one is running or screaming? They’re all just standing by the fires, watching like nothing’s even happening,” one of the armed men said to the others.

Everyone nodded and continued securing the base.

A few minutes later, only a handful of shots were heard. Dillon smiled. “Good, it’s easier when people comply. You guys, watch the entrance and ensure that no one gets out. We’re here to capture Julian.”

Dillon walked to the end of the base alongside Cal. Cal led the way to the building where the Barclays and Katrina were staying, taking the most direct path.

Along the way, Dillon frowned, looking at how disgusting the surroundings were. “Why would anyone want to live here?” he asked.

Having lived in Damien’s base since before the disasters, he had a skewed outlook on what life looked like outside.

They made their way over to the building where Katrina was waiting. Cal walked over and knocked on the door a few times.

“Katrina, it’s me. Are you there?” he called out. The curtains were drawn, and everything was quiet, making him wonder if they had gone somewhere.

Inside, Katrina heard Cal call out after knocking. She was about to stand up and open the door when Layla pulled her down.

“What are you doing? What if it’s someone dangerous?” she hissed.

Katrina looked at her and smiled. “But Layla, it’s my cousin Cal! I can’t just leave him outside! Plus, if it were dangerous, he would tell me to hide. We can trust him.”

Layla was hesitant but let go of her arm. Katrina sprang up and quickly made her way to the door, unlocking it.

As soon as the door opened, she saw Cal, and behind him was Leader Dillon. She quickly bowed her head respectfully. “Leader Dillon, come on in.”

Dillon walked in, looking at the huddled family on the floor. “Don’t worry, I’m not here to hurt you. I’m just looking for someone you’re familiar with.”

Layla saw the handsome man in front of her. “Who are you looking for?” she asked in a sweet voice.

Dillon smiled. “You must be his sister. Truly, the genetics in your family are peak. I’m looking for your brother. Mind telling me where he is?”

Layla felt her face heat up from the indirect compliment. “Ah, y-yes. I’ll bring you to his apartment.” She scurried off the ground and put on her coat.

“Please, follow me,” she said and led him over to the adjacent building. “He’s on the third floor.”

They walked over to the last door on the third floor, and Layla walked up. “Julian! Open up, there’s a visitor for you!”

After a few minutes of silence, Layla began to feel awkward. “Julian! It’s not the time to be sulking over that blonde woman! You have someone important visiting!” She continued to knock until Dillon stopped her.

He was slowly beginning to lose patience and pushed Layla to the side. The push wasn’t forceful, but enough for her to feel a little scared.

“You won’t mind if I break the door down, right?” he said with an evil smile.

Layla shook her head. “No, not at all.” She moved out of the way, leaving a generous amount of space between her and the door.

Dillon looked at the door, then lifted his leg, forcefully slamming it into the wood.

“FUCK!” he yelled. Instead of breaking the door like he expected, he felt as if he had kicked a block of iron.

He looked at the door more carefully. “What the hell is wrong with this door? It looks just like any other standard wooden door.”

Even running his hand along the front of the door, he felt the grooves of the natural wood.

“Cal! Get someone over here who specializes in lockpicking!” he yelled from the balcony.

Cal, who was waiting below, quickly accepted the order and ran off to find someone who could pick the lock. He returned about ten minutes later with a lanky guy who had come with the rest of the ‘army.’

Dillon quickly motioned for him to begin picking the lock while rubbing his leg.

The lanky man knelt down and opened his small pack of different-sized lockpicks, beginning his process. He expected this to be an easy job, as the locks here were all very standard. However, after twenty minutes of trying, he couldn’t even get past the initial layer.

“Are you sure you even know what you’re doing?” asked Dillon, who was seconds from losing it. He had been standing out here for over an hour and was beginning to feel the cold seep through his clothing.

“Sir, I assure you that I’ve been properly trained. There’s something off with this lock. It’s not the typical one that it appears to be,” the lanky man replied.

After trying for another twenty minutes, the lanky man finally gave up. “Forgive me, Boss. I don’t have the correct tools for this job.”

Dillon was angry. “I don’t care what you do. Blast it open for all I care! Just get it open!”

“Yes, sir!” Cal called out and went to find a team to get the door open.

Another ten minutes later, a group of men arrived with all sorts of tools: crowbars, hammers, blowtorches, and even explosives.

The men quickly got to work, trying to open it with the sledgehammers. They beat the door relentlessly, but even after a few minutes of repetitive pounding, the door stood firmly, without signs of damage.

“What the hell is this door made out of? Why is it so difficult to open?” said Dillon, angrily.

The men moved to the blowtorches, trying to burn a hole in the door. They fired up their torches and slowly began to melt the door.

While they finally made visible progress, only the topmost layer had melted off.

“Boss, we don’t have enough fuel for these blowtorches to get through. This would also take a few days,” one of the men with the blowtorches said.

“THEN BLOW IT UP!” yelled Dillon. He was freezing and aggravated by a stupid door. He wanted to leave and warm up somewhere but knew that he had to be there the moment the door opened.

“Sir, I don’t think explosives will get through this door. It seems to be a very thick iron door, similar to bank vault doors,” one of the other men chimed in.

“Then what do you suggest?!” asked Dillon, ready to pull his hair out.

The man thought for a moment and came up with a different idea. “We could smash through the window if we had a ladder.”

Dillon no longer cared. “Then go, do it! And hurry up!”