Apocalypse: King of Zombies

Brandon was speechless, but he knew Uncle Chris wasn’t trying to put him down—he was just stating the facts.

Still, he could feel himself getting close to a breakthrough. Ever since the apocalypse began, he’d been through countless battles, big and small.

The problem was, he’d spent too much time clinging to Mia, relying on her strength instead of pushing himself. That had dulled his fighting spirit.

But today changed things.

Now, he had a goal.

He was going to become a killer—one who specialized in taking down members of the Black Hand Legion.

”I think I’m about to break through,” Brandon said. ”What if I awaken some crazy ability and shoot straight to the top?”

”Yeah, right.” Chris waved him off, clearly unimpressed. ”I’m a damn powerhouse, and all I got was fire abilities. You think you’re gonna hit the jackpot? That’s like winning the lottery.”

”Hey, you never know. Gotta have dreams, man. What if I get lucky?” Brandon grinned.

Meanwhile, Leah and the others were still shaken by what they’d just witnessed—the brutal torture of that woman in the oak barrel. The sheer horror of it left a deep scar in their minds. One thing was clear: if they were ever captured by the Black Hand Legion, they’d rather die than fall into their hands.

With the second floor cleared, only the third remained.

The top floor was where the Black Hand Legion’s mid-level leaders operated. Some of the higher-ups lived there.

At that moment, in one of the rooms, a young man sat up in bed, frowning as he picked up on the commotion downstairs.

He was a B+ rank Awakener, with heightened senses.

”Hey, did you guys hear that?” he asked.

”Yeah,” one of his subordinates nodded. ”Probably just the prisoners rattling the metal bars again. Happens all the time. They just need a good beating.”

”I don’t know… something feels off.” The young man shook his head, uneasy.

”Damien, you’re overthinking it,” another subordinate said. ”This is our turf. Who the hell would dare cause trouble? Even if they somehow got out of their cells, they wouldn’t make it past the courtyard.”

Damien Cross considered this for a moment before shaking his head. ”Nah, let’s go check it out. Better safe than sorry.”

His men exchanged glances but didn’t argue.

After all, Damien wasn’t just the guy in charge of this building—he was also the son of the district’s top boss.

His father, Victor Cross, was a high-ranking figure in the Black Hand Legion. Ruthless to the core.

Anyone who crossed him risked losing their hands, feet, eyes, or tongue—sometimes all of the above. And if you really pissed him off? You’d end up in an oak barrel.

No one wanted to get on Damien’s bad side.

So, they quickly grabbed their weapons, straightened their clothes, and followed him out the door, heading downstairs to check things out.

As they descended, Damien sniffed the air.

”Smells like blood.”

”That’s normal,” one of his men said dismissively. ”Probably just some prisoners getting punished for acting up.”

But the moment they reached the second floor, they realized something was very, very wrong.

A group of gaunt, disheveled, bloodstained people stood at the stairwell, blocking their path.

The freed prisoners.

Their eyes were hollow, lifeless—until they spotted Damien. Then, in an instant, their gazes burned with pure, unfiltered rage.

They wanted to tear him apart.

They looked less like people and more like rabid animals.

Or zombies.

”You… how the hell did you get out?” Damien stammered, instinctively taking a step back.

”To settle the score,” Brandon answered from the crowd.

Damien’s stomach twisted. He knew exactly how he and his men had treated these prisoners. If they got their hands on him, he was done for.

But then he smirked.

Sure, they were outnumbered, but these people were weak—starved, beaten, barely able to stand.

Meanwhile, he had over twenty men with him, all elite fighters. Some were even B-rank Awakeners.

”You’ve got some nerve,” Damien sneered. ”I’ll have you all chopped up and fed to the dogs! Kill them!”

At his command, his men charged forward like a pack of hungry wolves.

They were stronger than the guards downstairs, no doubt about that.

But to Ethan?

They were nothing.

Low-level trash...

With a flick of his wrist, his tachi sliced through the air. The crystal core embedded in the hilt pulsed, releasing a wave of heat.

The brilliant flames fanned outward, engulfing the stairwell. The Black Hand Legion fighters, packed tightly as they rushed down, had no room to dodge.

Shhhhk—

More than ten men were sliced clean in half. Their upper bodies slid off their waists, hitting the ground with sickening thuds. The scene was gruesome—severed torsos, lifeless eyes frozen in shock.

Ethan flipped his tachi in a reverse grip and slashed again. The same effortless motion, the same devastating result. The remaining enemies were cut down just as easily.

The whole thing looked absurdly simple—just a couple of casual swings, and the so-called elite fighters were wiped out.

”Damn, that’s some next-level Fruit Ninja,” Mia muttered, watching from the side.

”Huh?” Damien’s eyes widened in horror. Only now did he realize there was a true monster among them.

The few wounded survivors from his group didn’t last much longer—Chris, Brandon, and the others quickly finished them off.

”W-Wait… stay back!” Damien stammered, sheer terror gripping him as Ethan stepped forward. He stumbled backward, his foot slipping off the edge of a step, and landed hard on his ass.

For all his B+ rank strength, the only reason he held any authority was because of his father’s influence. On his own, he was nothing but a cowardly fraud.

”You can’t kill me! If you so much as lay a finger on me, you’ll suffer a fate worse than death!” Damien shrieked.

”My father is Victor Cross, the district boss! He’ll have you all chopped into pieces and fed to the dogs!”

Ethan tilted his head slightly. ”Oh yeah? And where’s your dad now?”

Damien’s eyes lit up. Maybe there was a chance. His father’s name carried weight in the Black Hand Legion—people feared him.

”Scared now, huh? I’m warning you, my dad’s in the building across from here. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll let me go.”

”Oh, cool.” Ethan turned to Mia and the others. ”I’ll leave this one to you guys.”

Then, without another word, he vanished.

”???”

Damien blinked, completely dumbfounded.

”W-Where the hell did he go?”

Mia smirked. ”Where do you think? He’s off to kill your dad.”

Damien’s face went blank.

Wait.

Did he just… give away his father’s location?

”No! That’s impossible! My dad will kill all of you! None of you are leaving this place alive!” he screamed, his voice cracking.

But no one cared about his threats.

Because in this world, once Ethan set his sights on someone, survival was no longer an option.

Mia raised her tachi.

Shhk. Shhk.

Two quick slashes.

Damien’s arms and legs were severed in an instant.

The freed prisoners, their eyes burning with months of suppressed rage, swarmed forward. The man who had tortured them, humiliated them, treated them like animals—was finally at their mercy.

They didn’t hesitate.

”AAAAAHHHH—”

Damien’s screams echoed through the entire building.

Meanwhile, Ethan had already reached the courtyard.

Even from here, he could still hear the agonized wails behind him.

The Black Hand Legion members stationed outside barely glanced in that direction.

To them, still considering it within the realm of normal...

...