Apocalypse: King of Zombies

The young man's face was filled with horror. He had heard of this so-called Zombie King—Scissorhands—an A-rank powerhouse. He knew he wasn't a match for him.

But at this point, there was no way out. He could only fight to the death.

The young man channeled his ice powers, which spread along the blade of his weapon. As he swung his sword, the ground beneath him froze, forming long, jagged ice spikes that surged forward.

But Scissorhands wasn't fazed in the slightest. His bloodthirsty grin remained plastered on his face as he leapt forward like a feral beast, pouncing toward the young man.

His speed was terrifyingly fast, leaving behind afterimages as he moved. The young man barely had time to raise his blade in defense before Scissorhands had already darted past him.

The young man froze mid-motion, his eyes wide with shock. He stood there, motionless, as a thin red line appeared across his neck. A moment later, his head tilted to the side and slid clean off his shoulders.

"Kehehehe…" Scissorhands let out a sinister laugh, reveling in the thrill of the kill.

The remaining humans, witnessing this gruesome scene, were utterly terrified. Panic set in, and in their disarray, many were tackled to the ground by the surrounding zombies.

Screams of agony filled the air, fueling the frenzy of the undead.

Scissorhands, however, didn't continue his slaughter. Instead, he turned his attention to his prize—the young man's severed head—and began walking toward it.

But just then…

A shadowy figure began to materialize beside the head. Slowly, it rose to its feet and casually picked up the severed head.

"Huh?"

Scissorhands immediately tensed, his predatory eyes narrowing. "Who are you? How dare you steal my trophy?"

"Oh, me?" The shadowy figure, who introduced himself as Little Shadow, replied nonchalantly. "I'm just a zombie from L.A., here to help you guys out." Without hesitation, he dug out the crystal core from the severed head and popped it into his mouth.

"Mmm… delicious."

Scissorhands tilted his head, staring at him in disbelief.

This guy's supposed to be here to help?

His confusion quickly turned to rage. His expression darkened, and he raised his bone blades in front of him, ready to attack.

"How dare you steal my crystal core!"

But before he could make a move, a menacing aura filled the air behind Little Shadow. Several Zombie Kings began to emerge from the shadows—Bulldozer, a hulking brute; PhD, whose sharp eyes gleamed with intelligence; Lil' Shroom, with her eerie fungal growths; and a squad of elite zombies.

Their presence was overwhelming, their power palpable. Each one radiated an aura of strength, all at least A-rank or higher.

"Uh…"

Scissorhands froze, his earlier killing intent dissipating almost instantly. He slowly lowered his bone blades, his face a mix of shock and unease.

So many Zombie Kings… and they're all stronger than me…

Bulldozer stepped forward, his massive frame towering over the others. "What's the matter? Don't you want to work with us?"

"No, no, of course I do! It's great that you're here, really, haha…" Scissorhands forced a nervous laugh, though inside, he was fuming. He had no choice but to play along, swallowing his frustration.

Just then, Shrimpy emerged from the horde of zombies, his gaze fixed on Scissorhands. His eyes lingered on Scissorhands' mutated bone blades, which bore a striking resemblance to something familiar.

"You're… a shrimp, aren't you?" Shrimpy asked, his tone matter-of-fact.

"A shrimp? What are you talking about?" Scissorhands replied, clearly confused.

Shrimpy pointed at Scissorhands' bone blades. From a certain angle, they did look a bit like oversized pincers.

"You've got shrimp claws. If that doesn't make you a shrimp, what does?" Shrimpy said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Scissorhands glanced down at his hands, realization dawning on him. Already irritated, this comment pushed him over the edge.

"I'm not a shrimp! You're the shrimp! Your whole family's shrimp!"

…

Later, the group of Zombie Kings joined the fray. The humans, already on the verge of defeat, didn't stand a chance. The Zombie Kings barely had to lift a finger to clean up what was left.

But when it came time to divide the spoils, they were anything but passive.

Lil' Shroom, in particular, was in her element. Her fungal spores spread across the battlefield, infecting the humans' blood and causing grotesque red tumors to sprout from their bodies.

The other zombies couldn't even take a bite out of the infected flesh. They howled in frustration, cursing under their breath.

"Useless in a fight, but first in line when it's time to eat…" Scissorhands muttered bitterly, glaring at Lil' Shroom. If he weren't so outmatched, he would've attacked him on the spot.

At that moment, Bulldozer swaggered over, his massive frame swaying with each step. "Let's go, Barber. Didn't you say we're working together? Let's keep messing with the humans."

"Hmph! Fine, let's go. Who's afraid of you?" Scissorhands shot back, refusing to back down. But deep inside, he silently vowed to reclaim the head he had lost—no matter what.

…

The group of zombies continued their relentless pursuit of the fleeing humans.

Meanwhile, over in San Bernardino, the Genesis Biotech branch had dispatched a team of Awakeners to rendezvous with survivors from a nearby shelter. The survivors were bringing supplies, and there was also the potential to recruit a few Awakeners to bolster the company's forces. After all, the organization had taken a serious hit thanks to Ethan's earlier rampage.

At this moment, an Awakener squad had just set out from San Bernardino, reaching the outskirts of the area.

"Heh heh heh, this mission to pick up survivors is gonna be a sweet gig," the squad leader, a young man, said with a sly grin.

"Captain, how's picking up survivors a sweet gig?" asked a burly man beside him, scratching his head in confusion.

The young man smirked, his expression turning sinister. "You don't get it, do you? These people need us, right?"

"Uh… yeah, I guess that's true…"

"Exactly. Since they need our help, it's not unreasonable for us to ask for a little something in return, is it? Plus, the supplies they're bringing? We're the ones reporting it to HQ. We can skim a little off the top, and no one will ever know." The young man's grin widened, clearly pleased with his scheme.

The burly man's eyes lit up as he caught on. It made sense—this could work out in their favor. If the survivors didn't agree to their demands, they could just leave them stranded in the wilderness to fend for themselves.

With just a bit of authority, they could make life as difficult as they wanted for others. It really was a "sweet gig."

The young man nodded. "But listen, this has to stay between us. Don't let the higher-ups catch wind of it."

"Got it, Captain. Don't worry," the other team members quickly agreed, nodding in unison. Continue reading on My Virtual Library Empire

But just then, a chilling voice cut through the air. "Your higher-ups won't be finding out about anything."

"Huh? Who's there?" The group immediately tensed, their expressions turning wary.

Out in the open field ahead of them, a slender figure appeared. Her lips slowly curled into a grin—so wide it nearly reached her ears. Her long, razor-sharp nails gleamed like ten deadly daggers.

"How long… has it been since I've seen living humans?" Laura murmured to herself, her voice trembling with emotion. It was as if she were on the verge of tears.

It wasn't sadness, though. It was the kind of overwhelming joy that made her want to cry.

Her excitement was palpable, her bloodlust so intense it sent shivers down their spines.

"Ahahahahahaha!"

Laura's laughter turned maniacal as she spread her bone claws wide. In a flash, she lunged at the human squad like a whirlwind of death.

"W-what kind of zombie is this?!" one of the men stammered, his voice shaking with terror. Their hands trembled as they gripped their weapons, barely able to hold steady.

They had no choice but to fight back, though their fear was evident.

But these humans were no match for Laura. In mere moments, her claws had torn through them, leaving their bodies scattered across the ground.

The corpses lay in disarray, their faces frozen in expressions of sheer terror.

In the center of the carnage stood Laura, her gaunt frame eerily still.

Her sharp bone claws dripped with crimson, the blood pooling at her feet.

…