Apocalypse: King of Zombies

"Not dead yet?" Ethan tilted his head, giving the scene a once-over.

Behind him, four humans—or what used to be humans—let out guttural roars and charged straight at him.

The square-jawed man's head hit the ground with a dull thud, rolling twice before coming to a stop. But then, to Ethan's surprise, the severed neck sprouted writhing tendrils. The head twitched, then crawled back to its body like some grotesque puppet.

Snap!

The man grabbed his head with both hands and pressed it back onto his neck. Just like that, it reattached, good as new. Well, except for the fact that his face now twisted into a mask of pure rage, grotesque and monstrous.

Ethan raised an eyebrow. "Huh. That's... new."

He hadn't expected these creatures to be so resilient. Cutting off their heads wasn't enough to kill them? That was just plain weird.

Before he could process it further, a girl's stomach suddenly split open with a sickening crack. From the gaping wound, a thick, snake-like tendril shot out, whipping toward Ethan with terrifying speed.

"Alright, no more playing nice," Ethan muttered, his eyes flashing crimson. In an instant, his Domain of the Dead unfurled, a suffocating wave of power spreading outward and enveloping the monsters.

The air grew heavy, almost solid, as if the space itself had been locked in place. The creatures froze, struggling as though trapped in quicksand. Ethan sidestepped the lunging tendril with ease, closing the distance to the girl in a heartbeat.

His tachi gleamed as it sliced through the air.

Swish, swish, swish!

The blade carved a Z-shaped pattern across her body, cutting her into several pieces in one fluid motion.

"Let's see if you can come back from that," Ethan said, his gaze sharp and unyielding.

But then, to his dismay, the severed chunks of flesh on the ground began to writhe. Tiny tendrils sprouted from each piece, pulling them back together like magnets. Within moments, the girl's body reassembled itself, standing whole once more.

"What the—?" Ethan frowned, his patience wearing thin. These things were seriously annoying.

Without hesitation, he swung his blade again, this time cleaving a young man's head clean in two. The cut was precise, splitting him from the chin all the way up through the crown of his skull. But just like before, the severed halves sprouted those cursed tendrils, stitching themselves back together as if nothing had happened.

"Alright, that's it," Ethan growled, his voice low and dangerous. "I'm done playing around."

If precision didn't work, then it was time for overwhelming force.

The crimson glow in his eyes intensified, and his Domain of the Dead expanded to its absolute limit. The oppressive energy thickened, radiating an aura of pure destruction. It was as if the end of the world had descended upon them.

The monsters visibly faltered under the crushing weight of the domain. Ethan focused the pressure into a single point, directing it toward the girl who had just reassembled herself.

BOOM!

The force hit her like a grinding millstone, pulverizing her body into a spray of green blood and shredded flesh. Bits of her flew in every direction, leaving nothing but a mess of gore behind.

From the carnage, a small crystal core shot out, glinting faintly as it landed on the ground.

Ethan narrowed his eyes. "If she pulls herself together after that, I'll admit defeat and call it a day."

But this time, the girl didn't regenerate. Her body was completely obliterated, and the crystal core lay still. She was finally dead.

Ethan crouched down, inspecting the core. He noticed something interesting—it hadn't come from her head. Instead, it had been lodged in her chest, right where her heart would've been.

"So that's their weak spot," he murmured, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

Armed with this new knowledge, Ethan wasted no time. He drove his tachi straight into the chest of the young man he'd just fought, twisting the blade to dig out the crystal core hidden within. The man let out a guttural scream, his body convulsing violently before collapsing into a shriveled husk. What was left of him looked like a deflated human skin, barely concealing the monster underneath.

"Got it," Ethan muttered, standing tall. "That's the trick."

With their weakness exposed, the remaining creatures didn't stand a chance. Ethan moved like a whirlwind, his tachi flashing as he slashed, stabbed, and carved through them. Each strike was precise, aimed directly at their chests. One by one, the monsters fell, their crystal cores extracted and their bodies reduced to lifeless heaps.

When the dust settled, five crystal cores lay in Ethan's hand. He examined them briefly, noting their faint glow. These creatures were no joke—based on their strength, they were at least B+ level.

Fully matured, they could've easily wiped out an entire city shelter.

Because, well, they didn't have as much room for trial and error as Ethan did.

A monster capable of breaking into a city's sanctuary? Yeah, that's no small feat.

But who knows…

Do these monsters have other forms? A complete form? Or maybe even an ultimate one?

Ethan waved his hand, collecting the corpses scattered around him.

Another addition to his growing collection of flavors…

But his real goal this time wasn't just that. He was here to find humans to inject with the G-virus. So far, no luck.

The people in this community? Already parasitized by monsters.

Useless.

Looks like he'd have to rely on the Black Hand Legion after all. Their base—Sunland—was his next stop.

…

After wrapping up his business, Ethan walked straight through the small community and headed toward the surrounding farmland. He kept moving forward, the scenery shifting into endless open fields and decaying farmland.

Now, it was all overgrown with weeds, a desolate and lifeless sight.

Every now and then, he'd spot a few stray zombies wandering aimlessly. Most of them were probably former farmers from the nearby fields. Their faces were blank, their movements sluggish, as they drifted without purpose.

Some of them still clung to old habits from their previous lives. One zombie, for instance, was holding a hoe, repeatedly digging into the ground. Its grayish-blue face was smeared with dried blood, its eyes clouded and lifeless, making it look downright horrifying.

The digging motion was mechanical, over and over, like a broken record.

These zombies, of course, didn't bother Ethan.

Out here, though, it wasn't just zombies. There were mutated beasts and even small mutated plants scattered around. But none of them posed any real threat to Ethan, nor did they hold much value to him.

After about twenty minutes of walking, sparse buildings began to appear in the distance.

Low, flat houses and a few newer residential areas were scattered across the rolling hills. Along the roadside, there were stables and wide open spaces, giving off a faint sense of rural tranquility. In the distance, mountain ranges stretched endlessly, forming a natural barrier.

At the entrance to the community stood a simple wooden sign. It read, "Welcome to Sunland." The lettering was faded, worn down by years of sun and rain.

"Well, here we are…"

It had only been twenty minutes, but with Ethan's speed, he'd already covered dozens of kilometers. Sunland was definitely tucked away in the middle of nowhere.

Which, honestly, was probably why humans had managed to survive here.

At the entrance to the community, two figures were pacing back and forth. Clearly, they were on watch.

One of them, a middle-aged man with a face full of scars, had a tattoo of a skeletal hand gripping a skull inked on his jawline. He was puffing on a cigarette, exhaling clouds of smoke with a look of pure satisfaction.

Every time he took a drag, the tattoo on his jaw seemed to writhe, almost like it was alive.

"Hey, slow down with that, man. Save me a puff," a younger guy next to him said impatiently.

"Relax! Just do your job and keep watch. You'll get your own pack later," the older man replied, clearly not planning to share.

Neither of them noticed the shadow slipping past them and into the community.

Ethan had activated his cloaking ability, moving silently. He figured he'd take a look around the place before making any moves.

The community was bustling with humans. To Ethan, it was like walking into a buffet—everywhere he turned, there was the scent of "food."

A quick estimate told him there were at least thirty or forty people here. Most of them were Awakeners. After all, it had been half a year since the apocalypse began.

Ordinary humans wouldn't have lasted this long. And if any had, they'd either been tortured to death by the Black Hand Legion or turned into food.

The only ones they kept alive were the pretty women.

Or men who had some kind of value.

Of course, there were always those with… peculiar tastes. They'd keep "pretty" men around too.
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Right then, a soft, trembling voice came from a nearby brick house.

"Blake, no, please don't!"

"Oh, come on! Still acting shy after all this time? Let me take a good look at you."

Hearing this, Ethan turned and walked toward the house, phasing straight through the wall without a second thought.

What he saw inside was… well, not exactly a pleasant sight.

A burly man was yanking at the clothes of a skinny young man, his face twisted with a mix of cruelty and excitement. The young man, on the other hand, was shaking his head desperately, his face streaked with tears.

"Man, the world's really gone to hell…" Ethan muttered, his face full of disdain. He figured he wasn't in any rush, so… why not stick around and watch for a bit?

…