Apocalypse: King of Zombies

The three captives stared in terror, their faces pale. They knew exactly what kind of person this man was—a complete psycho who planned to feed them to the zombies.

One of them trembled uncontrollably, trying desperately to shrink back into the corner.

The man with thick lips noticed and smirked. "Alright, looks like it's gonna be you."

"Huh? No! Mmmph—mmmph!"

The man's mouth was taped shut, so all he could do was let out muffled cries.

Thick Lips strode over, grabbed him by the back of the neck like he was picking up a helpless kitten, and hoisted him into the air. Then, without hesitation, he turned and started walking toward the door.

No matter how much the man struggled, it was useless.

He could only watch in horror as they got closer and closer to the zombie room. His heart sank into a bottomless pit of despair.

When the door creaked open, the stench of blood hit him like a wall.

Inside, a female zombie was pacing restlessly, her eyes wild with excitement. She let out guttural snarls, her hunger palpable.

"Look at that," Thick Lips said, his voice filled with twisted affection. "See how happy my baby Isla is?"

"Mmmph! Mmmph!"

The man's muffled cries turned into full-blown sobs. Tears streamed down his face as he shook his head frantically.

Thick Lips ripped the tape off his mouth with a sharp tug.

"Got any last words?" he asked, almost casually.

"Please! I'm begging you!" the man wailed, his voice cracking. "Don't do this! I don't wanna die! Please, I'll do anything!"

Thick Lips shook his head, almost pitying him. "You don't get it, do you? Witnessing the love between me and Isla... that's an honor."

With that, he tightened his grip and began dragging the terrified man closer to the zombie.

The man screamed, his voice raw with desperation, as he was pulled toward his gruesome fate.

But just as the zombie was about to lunge—

A shadow appeared behind them.

Ethan had been watching from the sidelines, his expression cold and detached. He wasn't interested in the drama unfolding before him. To him, none of this mattered. The only thing of value here was the crystal core inside Thick Lips' head.

He decided to end it quickly. Kill the guy, take the core, and leave.

"Huh?"

Thick Lips froze. He was sharp—he immediately sensed Ethan's presence the moment he appeared. He spun around, his eyes narrowing.

"Who the hell are you? How'd you get in here?"

But before Ethan could respond, something strange happened.

The female zombie, who had been snarling and thrashing moments ago, suddenly went quiet. Her wild, bloodthirsty expression softened. She seemed... subdued. Her eyes filled with something like reverence, even submission.

"What the...?"

Thick Lips frowned, his confusion deepening.

And then it hit him—this felt eerily familiar. It reminded him of the time he'd bent over backward to win the affection of a woman he worshipped, only to watch her grovel at someone else's feet.

Jealousy flared in his chest, hot and suffocating.

"I'm an Awakener now!" he roared, his voice shaking with rage. "People like you don't deserve to live!"

Ethan studied him calmly. The apocalypse had clearly done a number on this guy. Years of fear and repression had twisted him into something unrecognizable.

Still, Ethan hesitated for a moment. Would absorbing this guy's crystal core mess with his own mind? He wasn't sure.

Meanwhile, the captive man, still tied up, saw Ethan as his last hope.

"Hey! Hey, man! Please, help me! This guy's a psycho—he's gonna feed me to that zombie!"

Ethan glanced at him, unimpressed. "Oh..." he muttered indifferently.

So what if he's a psycho? Ethan thought. I'm a zombie myself.

Thick Lips' face contorted with fury. His hands began to glow faintly red, and his aura surged. He was clearly an Awakener with some kind of physical enhancement ability.

"Let me show you what an Awakener can do!" he bellowed.

With a roar, he lunged at Ethan, his mutated hands clawing through the air with incredible speed.

But to Ethan, it was nothing special. Just another fool trying to act tough.

With a single thought, Ethan activated his Domain of the Dead.

A wave of overwhelming pressure rippled outward, blanketing the room.

Thick Lips froze mid-attack. His body locked up, completely immobilized, as if someone had hit the pause button.

He stood there, trembling, unable to move a muscle.

Thanks to Ethan absorbing five crystal cores, his Domain of the Dead had grown even more powerful.

For most Awakeners, stepping into his domain was like walking into quicksand—they couldn't move an inch.

Thick Lips felt like he was carrying a mountain on his back. His legs trembled violently, barely able to hold him up. In his eyes, the world around him had turned blood-red, like he was standing in the middle of a battlefield littered with corpses. And at the peak of this mountain of death stood Ethan, the undisputed ruler.

"H-how is this possible?" Thick Lips stammered, his voice shaking with fear. His body trembled even harder.

He had always been the one in control, the one deciding who lived and who died. He took pride in being an Awakener, someone above the rest of humanity. But now, standing before Ethan, he couldn't even lift a finger to fight back.

Ethan didn't care about his internal struggle. He simply walked toward him, step by step.

Thick Lips could feel death closing in, like the Grim Reaper himself was approaching. He knew what was coming.

Summoning every ounce of strength he had left, he slowly turned his head, his movements stiff and unnatural, like a puppet on strings. His gaze locked onto the female zombie.

"If I can't escape death," he thought, "then at least let me look at her one last time."

That was his final thought.

Ethan's slender fingers pierced through his skull with ease, breaking through the bone like it was paper. He reached inside and pulled out the crystal core.

Thick Lips' body went limp. His vision went dark, and he collapsed to the ground, lifeless.

"Just like that... he's dead?"

The tied-up man nearby stared in shock, his jaw practically hitting the floor. He had no idea what had just happened. All he saw was Ethan calmly approach Thick Lips and kill him as if it were nothing.

"Damn, man! You're incredible!" the man shouted, his voice filled with a mix of awe and desperation. "Come on, help me out! Untie me!"

Ethan glanced at him, his expression indifferent. He didn't move.

Did I ever say I was going to save you?

"W-wait, what?!"

The man's face fell as he realized what Ethan's silence meant. The hope that had briefly flickered in his heart was snuffed out, plunging him back into despair.

Just then, a sound came from the bedroom window—a faint flapping of wings.

A massive crow landed on the balcony.

The bird was enormous, standing nearly three feet tall. Its eyes glowed an eerie red, and its glossy black feathers shimmered like polished obsidian, sharp and menacing, almost like blades.

Clearly, it had been drawn here by the scent of blood.

Its crimson eyes peered through the gaps in the metal railing, staring intently into the room.

"I'm hungry... so hungry... can you open this for me? Please?"

"Oh?" Ethan raised an eyebrow, surprised. He hadn't expected the crow to speak. Was it some kind of mutant? Maybe a crossbreed with a parrot? And it was polite, too...

Ethan glanced at Thick Lips' corpse on the floor. It wasn't of any use to him anymore.

Curious, he walked over to the window and, with a sharp push, broke open the metal railing.

"Thank you... thank you..."

The crow wasted no time. It smashed through the glass and swooped into the room, heading straight for Thick Lips' body. Without hesitation, it began tearing into the corpse.

Its beak was razor-sharp, slicing through flesh and bone like a guillotine. In one bite, it severed Thick Lips' arm and swallowed it whole, bones and all.

The sight was horrifying. The crow devoured the body with terrifying efficiency, leaving no trace behind—not even a scrap of bone.

The tied-up man was frozen in fear. He had thought zombies were the worst thing the apocalypse had to offer, but now he realized there were even more terrifying creatures out there.

And the crow wasn't even that big, yet its appetite was insatiable.

In no time, Thick Lips' corpse was completely gone. The crow licked its beak, looking like it still wasn't satisfied.

Its glowing red eyes shifted to the tied-up man.

But it hesitated, glancing at Ethan as if seeking permission.

In a strange, guttural voice, it asked, "I'm still hungry. Can I eat him too?"

Ethan shrugged. "Go ahead."

The crow tilted its head, almost as if it were nodding in gratitude. "Thank you... thank you... You're so kind, giving me your food. You're a good person."

"You're welcome," Ethan replied casually.

"Wait, WHAT?!"

The tied-up man's eyes widened in disbelief. He stared at the two of them, completely dumbfounded.

Good person?! Are you kidding me?!

...