The fruit of intangibility granted the eleven women the power to phase through walls—a life-saving ability in desperate situations.

James Lone spoke calmly, his tone steady but commanding: "Shirley Inr Won, Monroe Anne, you're in charge of teaching everyone how to use the phasing ability. But let me make something absolutely clear to all of you: your physical endurance is still quite low. Even after consuming the physical enhancement fruit, you're still only average, and this ability consumes a lot of stamina. So, unless you're facing life-or-death danger, don't use it. And if anyone sees you using it... well, you know the drill. Kill them. No witnesses. This ability is our trump card, and if word gets out, it'll bring nothing but trouble. Shirley, Monroe, get started."

The two women nodded and immediately began explaining the mechanics of their newfound ability to the others. Shirley, her voice firm, added a warning of her own: "You all heard what the Master said. If there's a witness, you cannot hesitate. You must eliminate them—our safety depends on it. If the person is too strong for you to handle, don't take risks. Instead, remember their face and report it to the Master. He'll take care of the rest."

James Lone watched Shirley with satisfaction. The girl was becoming sharper and more reliable with each passing day. He knew Shirley was vying for the coveted position of Head of the Harem, which had led to some friction between her and the other women.

But he didn't care. As long as it didn't interfere with his enjoyment, they could squabble all they wanted. In fact, with the growing number of women in his group, James Lone hoped someone would step up to manage them, saving him the headache.

If Shirley could handle it, she'd stay. If she failed, he'd replace her. And if she dared to plot behind his back, well... he'd kill her.

A fleeting glint of menace flashed through his eyes before his face relaxed into a smile.

Reaching into his inventory, James pulled out several guns and a fresh batch of ammunition. While he wasn't ready to trust Sofie Barnes, Tailsa Evans, or Sita King completely yet, the other women were armed to the teeth. Each now carried their own firearm—an intimidating deterrent to any would-be attackers.

No one would underestimate a group of women carrying guns. Even the most desperate survivors would think twice.

As the women admired their new weapons, their loyalty to James deepened. They understood that sticking with him was their best chance at survival.

Sure, they could leave and reclaim their freedom—but then what? Starving, hiding, constantly fearing capture by predatory men? What kind of life was that?

Here, they had food, shelter, weapons, and even rare ability fruits. As for the occasional "companionship" James demanded... well, some of them secretly enjoyed it.

Only a fool would leave him now.

With the women fully armed and trained, James addressed the next pressing issue. "Beyond that, we need transportation. We have a long journey ahead—walking dozens of kilometers isn't just exhausting and slow; it also leaves us vulnerable to ambushes. But after the bombings, the roads are bound to be a mess. Regular SUVs won't cut it..."

He paused, deep in thought. "What about the National Guard base under the TV station? I remember seeing tanks there."

Tanks were built for rugged terrain, and they'd easily crush any obstacles in their path. The thought was tempting, but James wrinkled his nose at the idea. Tanks weren't exactly comfortable, and he valued his comfort.

That's when Sita King raised her hand hesitantly. "I know a place with custom off-road vehicles," she said. "But it's pretty far. Getting them back here won't be easy."

James's curiosity was piqued. "Go on," he urged.

Sita, eager to prove her worth and secure her place in the group, quickly explained. "There's a place called Wild Winds Off-Road Club. I used to work there. It's a private club for rich kids and adrenaline junkies who loved modding their cars for extreme terrain. They even have their own custom garage. I'm sure they've got plenty of vehicles that could handle this mess. But the place is a bit of a hike."

James's interest grew. Modded off-road vehicles could be the perfect solution. If a tank led the way to clear obstacles, the off-roaders could easily follow.

"Show me," he said, pulling up a map on his offline GPS.

Sita leaned over, searching for the location. Finally, she pointed to a spot on the screen. "Here. From the outside, it just looks like a farmhouse. But inside, it's a full-blown custom shop."

James noted the location—it was about 20 kilometers away. Not ideal, but not impossible. Conveniently, it was on the way to the TV station base.

"Perfect," he thought. "We'll grab the off-road vehicles and stop by the National Guard base. I'll take everything they've got—especially the tanks. That way, if the roads are completely destroyed, we'll still have a backup plan."

Decision made, James turned to Sita, a rare smile on his face. "If the vehicles are still there, I'll reward you with another ability fruit when I return."

Sita's eyes lit up with excitement. "Thank you, Master! Thank you!"

Without wasting any more time, James descended through the building, carefully navigating through the underground.

Just before leaving, he considered using the blue teleportation portal again. It would save him the trouble of walking, but he hesitated. He cautiously opened the portal a crack and peered through.

A massive green eye glared back at him.

"Crap!"

James slammed the portal shut without a second thought.

"Yeah, walking it is," he muttered, quickly heading out.

Wild Winds Off-Road Club

Lancy George stood under a peach tree, holding a ladder steady while Linkon carefully plucked the few remaining fruits.

Once finished, Linkon descended, handing the small basket to Lancy. She frowned. "Only eight? That's not going to be enough."

"It's enough," Linkon said smugly. "We'll each get two, and the others can have one each. They should be grateful they're getting anything at all."

Lancy didn't argue. She wasn't thrilled about the rations, but better them than her.

Back in the building, four starving survivors eagerly awaited their return. Their faces fell when they saw the meager rations, but none dared to complain.

Linkon barked orders at them, his voice harsh and commanding. "Eat up and get back to work. Clear the grass from the entrance and get rid of the vines on the windows. Those things can suck blood, you know! Move it!"

The survivors obeyed, though their resentment simmered beneath the surface.

Once alone, Linkon turned his attention back to Lancy. He'd always admired her from afar—she was the wealthy owner of Wild Winds, the kind of woman a lowly manager like him could only dream of.

But now, in the chaos of the apocalypse, the playing field was leveled.

Lancy, sensing his gaze, ignored him. Instead, she pulled a crumpled red flyer from her pocket. "What do you think?" she asked, showing it to Linkon. "Should we head to the National Guard base? Do you think the rumors are true?"