Apocalypse: King of Zombies

”Stop yelling, you hillbilly. While you were busy having your fun, I already dealt with your little buddy.” Ethan slowly stepped out of the room.

Bruno glanced around, his eyes darting in every direction. The place was eerily empty—completely silent, not a single soul in sight.

Everyone… dead?

A wave of pure terror washed over him. He had killed them all—silently, without a trace. Not even the bodies remained, as if they had vanished into thin air. It was beyond unsettling. It was horrifying.

”I’ll kill you!”

Bruno roared, summoning every ounce of rage he had left. His massive, bear-like frame charged straight at Ethan. His movements were powerful, his momentum unstoppable, but there was a tragic futility to it—like a moth flying straight into a flame.

It was the desperate charge of a warrior making his final stand.

Bruno poured all his anger, fear, and despair into his fist, aiming a devastating punch at Ethan’s face.

Ethan, however, remained calm. With a slight tilt of his body, he effortlessly dodged the blow. Then, with a casual flick of his hand, he struck the back of Bruno’s head. The move seemed almost lazy, but it was precise.

In that instant, Ethan extracted Bruno’s crystal core.

Bruno’s body went limp as he lost consciousness. His momentum carried him forward, and he collapsed to the ground, sliding nearly twenty feet before coming to a stop.

His once-massive, hulking form began to shrink rapidly, reverting to its original size. His body withered, deflated, and became frail… lifeless.

”Bruno!”

Four women rushed forward from the shadows, their faces filled with grief. One of them even dropped to her knees, sobbing uncontrollably.

”Wake up, Bruno! Don’t leave us!”

”We can’t live without you!”

”Please… please don’t go…”

Their emotions were raw, twisted, and utterly broken. They had fallen in love with the man who had abused and tormented them—a sick, almost supernatural attachment.

In another life, before the apocalypse, these women might have been students, professionals, or loving wives and mothers. They could have lived quiet, peaceful lives, raising families and growing old in comfort.

But now, everything had changed.

Ethan’s Domain of the Dead expanded, enveloping the four women. It freed their warped souls from the chains of their unnatural obsession.

Ethan felt a small sense of satisfaction. ”Guess I did another good deed,” he thought to himself.

With that, the underground mall fell completely silent. Not a single survivor remained.

Ethan began wandering through the mall, casually looting supplies. There was plenty to take—food, toiletries, and other essentials—all of which he stored in his spatial storage ring.

Among the items, he found a list. It detailed the names of the Black Hand Legion members stationed at this base.

There were twenty names in total, but Ethan knew he hadn’t killed that many. Some of them must have been out scavenging for supplies or hunting down survivors.

Ethan’s mind wandered. He figured there were probably others, like Ryan, who had infiltrated official shelters and were lying low.

He snapped a photo of the list and sent it to Mia.

It didn’t take long for her to reply.

”What’s this supposed to mean?” Mia asked bluntly.

”These are all members of the Black Hand Legion,” Ethan explained.

Mia didn’t waste words. She simply replied, ”Thanks.”

”Don’t mention it. Consider it a freebie,” Ethan texted back.

...

After gathering everything useful, Ethan returned to his territory.

With a wave of his hand, he dumped out the ”feast” he had collected. He even poured some ”sauce” over it for good measure.

A pile of corpses tumbled onto the street, forming a grotesque mountain of bodies.

The smell quickly drew his subordinates, including Bulldozer, who came sniffing the air like a bloodhound.

To them, the scene was like Thanksgiving dinner—turkey drenched in gravy, ready to be devoured.

”Holy crap! Look at all this!”

”Boss, you’re incredible!”

”How’d you manage to catch so many?”

The group was in awe.

Bulldozer, in particular, was stunned. The city was overrun with zombies now, and finding even a single survivor was nearly impossible. Yet somehow, Ethan had managed to bring back so many—and with such variety, too.

There were ”barbecue ribs dripping in sauce” and ”Thanksgiving turkey drowned in gravy.”

Without hesitation, they began to feast, tearing into the bodies with ravenous hunger.

The desolate street was a scene straight out of a nightmare—corpses feasting on other corpses, the sound of flesh being torn apart echoing through the air.

Upstairs, Nina, a part-time worker, was cleaning the windows. Even though she’d been here for almost two months, the sight outside still filled her with dread, her stomach churning with nausea.

And then, she noticed something.

The clothes Ethan had changed out of today reeked of blood—far more than usual. It was obvious: Ethan had been killing more than ever.

As night fell, darkness blanketed the city.

In the pitch-black apocalypse, the growls and roars of the undead never ceased. Tonight, though, there were new, eerie sounds mixed in—unidentifiable and unsettling. No one knew what they were.

Because as the apocalypse dragged on, everything—humans, zombies, mutated beasts, even plants—was evolving in unpredictable ways. At any moment, something strange and monstrous could appear.

Survival of the fittest.

Kill or be killed.

That was the law of the apocalypse.

If you wanted to live, you had to keep killing. And as time went on, the violence only escalated.

Ethan soaked in the bath, changed into clean clothes, and swallowed two crystal cores. Then, he poured himself a glass of ”juice” in a tall wine glass, sipping it leisurely.

He stayed holed up in his spotless, orderly home, feeling a rare sense of peace.

The energy from the crystal cores and blood was being absorbed into his body, making him stronger by the minute. In fact, Ethan was starting to feel like he’d surpassed the limits of the official refuge’s power rankings and even the classifications set by Genesis Biotech.

The strongest Awakeners he’d encountered so far—like Michael from the Operation King Hunt squad or Bruno from the Black Hand Legion—were only B+ level.

But against him? They didn’t stand a chance.

Of course, Mia from the official refuge was an exception. If her pain threshold ever hit 100%, it was hard to imagine what she could become. Her awakening ability was a rare talent, almost like a stroke of luck.

Still, even Mia had her limits. If she faced someone with an overwhelming power gap, no amount of awakening ability would save her.

And besides, combat wasn’t just about raw stats. There were countless other factors at play. It wasn’t unheard of for the weak to defeat the strong.

Take real life, for example. There were cases of rats killing cats. Or a grown man throwing a punch, twisting his ankle mid-swing, falling, and cracking his head on a rock—only to lose to a kid.

So, despite Ethan’s immense strength, he remained cautious. If he encountered an enemy, he’d kill them without hesitation, leaving no room for them to become a threat.

At that moment, outside on the street, a shadow moved silently, blending seamlessly into the darkness. It crept closer to Ethan’s territory, undetected.

It was ”Little Shadow,” the neighbor of Serpent-Eye. Earlier today, while passing through Serpent-Eye’s territory, he’d noticed something unusual and decided to pay Ethan a visit.

He also had an idea: to team up with Ethan and take Serpent-Eye down.

But first, he needed to figure out how strong Ethan’s forces were—how many elite fighters and skilled warriors he had. He wanted to scope things out.

After all, as the saying goes: know your enemy, and you’ll never lose a battle.

Little Shadow prowled through the darkness, moving stealthily. Before long, he heard a strange, chilling laugh.

”Hehehe… hehehe… hehehe…”

It was Laura. She must’ve eaten her fill today because she seemed to be in a good mood. Her laughter echoed through the pitch-black night, sounding far more unsettling than any cry.

”Damn it!” Little Shadow cursed under his breath. Even as someone used to danger, he could feel an overwhelming sense of menace radiating from her—even more than from the zombies.

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