Ethan's sudden appearance in the middle of the crowd sent a jolt of panic through the attackers.

The ones closest to him scrambled, ditching their SMGs for melee weapons in a desperate attempt to fight back.

But could they really fight back?

If Tier 5 crushed Tier 4 like a boot on an ant, then Ethan—now a Stage D Tier 6—was a god stomping through a sandbox.

Tier 4 elites maxed out at around 3,000 pounds of force. Stage D started at 10,000. No tricks, no finesse—just raw, overwhelming power. Every swing of Ethan's barbell bar was a death sentence. No injuries. No survivors. Just bodies.

Across the battlefield, Chris blinked into existence beside a cluster of enemies, joining the fray without hesitation. At the peak of Tier 5, he was a whirlwind of violence, tearing through opponents with brutal efficiency.

Garrick dropped his earth wall and charged in with Sean and the others. A few bullets clipped them on the way, but just like Ethan had said—at Tier 5, regular gunfire was barely a nuisance.

As they crashed into the enemy ranks, the real battle began.

Fighting humans was a whole different beast from fighting zombies. Zombies were predictable—grab, bite, repeat. But these people? They had tactics, weapons, coordination. It wasn't easy.

Still, humans had weaknesses. They felt pain. They panicked. And they didn't need a headshot to go down. One good hit from a barbell bar to the ribs or spine, and they were out of the fight.

Sean and the others were no strangers to bloodshed. With their powers and experience, they carved a path through the chaos, leaving a trail of broken bodies in their wake.

Watching his carefully trained elites fall like wheat before a scythe, Richard stood frozen, his face twisted in disbelief.

"They're all Tier 5…" he muttered.

"How the hell are they this strong?!"

Alicia stood beside him, equally stunned. Her eyes tracked the battlefield, watching as the squad dismantled their forces with terrifying ease.

Richard's jaw clenched. He hadn't expected this. Not even close.

Which meant—these people couldn't be allowed to live.

"Alicia," he said, turning to her, "we need to move. They're split up now. If we strike together—two Tier 5s—we can take them down one by one."

Alicia's eyes narrowed. Then she gave a sharp nod and drew a sleek, custom dagger from her belt. Her gaze turned icy as she scanned the battlefield.

Richard unsheathed his combat knife and charged, zeroing in on the one who looked the weakest—Skinny Pete.

But just as he lunged forward, Alicia quietly stepped back.

This is your family's mess, she thought, already retreating. I'm not dying for it.

Sure, two Tier 5s working together with backup from Tier 4s might've been enough to pick off the squad—if that was all they were dealing with.

But there was a Tier 6 out there.

And that changed everything.

That was a walking apocalypse. No strategy, no numbers, no backup plan could fix that.

Better to cut her losses and get the hell out.

Richard, now deep in the fight, glanced around and realized Alicia hadn't followed. His face darkened.

"Holy shit… that bitch ditched me!"

He cursed under his breath, but there was no time to chase her down. And even if there was, she was Mayor Marks's right hand—he couldn't afford to piss her off.

Grinding his teeth, he turned back toward Skinny Pete and charged.

But before he could close the distance, a blur shot out from the luxury home like a bolt of orange lightning and slammed into him.

Claws raked across his face—four deep, bloody gashes carved into his cheek.

Richard staggered back, stunned, and looked up.

A massive orange cat, the size of a tiger, crouched in front of him, tail lashing, eyes gleaming with feral intelligence.

"What the fuck—A cat?!"

His face twisted with rage.

"You little shit, you wanna die too?!"

He raised his combat knife and lunged at Pumpkin.

But Pumpkin was Tier 5 too—and fast. Ridiculously fast.

There was no way in hell Richard was landing a hit.

Pumpkin darted through the crowd like a streak of orange lightning, weaving between legs, leaping over bodies, and clawing at anything that moved. Richard swung his combat knife wildly, trying to land a hit—but the damn cat was too fast. After a dozen frantic slashes, he hadn't so much as grazed a whisker.

He had, however, accidentally killed two of his own men.

The Harlan soldiers started backing away the moment they saw him coming, eyes full of resentment. They were already struggling to hold their ground—last thing they needed was their own commander flailing around like a lunatic and thinning their ranks.

It took Richard a full minute to realize what was happening. He froze, panting, and finally lowered his knife.

But Pumpkin didn't stop.

The big orange cat kept coming, claws flashing, swiping at him again and again. In no time, Richard was a mess of torn clothes and bleeding scratches, stumbling backward, face twisted in disbelief.

He was being mauled—by a cat.

A very large, very pissed-off cat.

And it was driving him to the brink of a breakdown.

...

Elsewhere on the battlefield, Ethan fought with one eye on the fight and the other on the bigger picture. He was tracking every movement, every shift in momentum.

So when he saw Alicia slipping away from the chaos, his lips curled into a cold smile.

"Oh? You show up to my house, start a war, and think you can just walk out? That's cute."

If it had been anyone else, he might've let them go. But not her.

Not this one.

After making sure the rest of his squad wasn't in immediate danger, Ethan casually crushed five more enemies with a single swing of his barbell bar—then vanished.

One second he was there. The next, gone.

The fighters around him blinked in confusion.

"Wait… where'd he go?"

...

Alicia had made it to the edge of Lakeview Estates, her footsteps light, her breath steady. She moved like a shadow, slipping through the trees and hedges, heading for the road beyond.

She had to get back. Mayor Marks needed to know what she'd seen.

A Tier 6 Awakened.

That changed everything.

Tier 6 wasn't just a number—it was a threshold. The moment someone reached it, the first star in their constellation map lit up, unlocking a whole new level of power. The military had learned that the hard way, getting their asses handed to them by a Tier 6 zombie again and again.

Until now, the government had assumed they were leagues ahead of the scattered Awakened out in the wild.

But today, Alicia had seen the truth with her own eyes.

There was a Tier 6 in Starlight City.

And the government didn't have a single one.

She had to report this. Immediately.

But just as she stepped past the last gate, a figure appeared in front of her, blocking the path.

She froze.

Ethan stood there, smiling like he'd just caught a stray kitten trying to sneak out the back door.

"Going somewhere, beautiful?" he said, voice light. "You came all this way—at least stay for a cup of tea."

Alicia forced a smile, her tone breezy. "Tea sounds lovely, but I really do have somewhere I need to be. Rain check?"

"Nah," Ethan said, stepping closer. "No rain checks. Just now."

He reached for her arm.

Alicia's expression shifted—first a flicker of irritation, then a sudden softness. Her eyes widened, lips parting in a pout.

"Come on, sweetheart… don't be so tense," she said, voice low and sultry. "Seven guys and just one little me? I'd get eaten alive."

She took a step closer, fingers brushing his chest. "How about we slip away somewhere… just the two of us? You can do whatever you want."

Smack!

Ethan's open palm cracked across her face, sending her sprawling to the ground.

"Cut the act," he said coldly. "You think that'll work on me?"

Alicia lay there, stunned, one hand pressed to her cheek, eyes wide with disbelief.

"You…!"

"What, you thought I'd fall for that?" Ethan said, stepping over her. "You're not the first to try it, and you won't be the last. But I'm not interested."

He reached down. "Since you won't come quietly, I'll just knock you out and drag you back."

As he raised his hand for a nerve strike, Alicia's eyes flashed. Her dagger whipped up from her belt, aimed straight for his side.

But Ethan caught her wrist mid-thrust, his grip like iron.

With a twist and a squeeze, the blade clattered to the ground.

Then—thwack—his hand chopped down on the side of her neck.

Alicia's eyes rolled back, and she crumpled.

Ethan caught her before she hit the ground, slung her over his shoulder like a sack of flour, and turned back toward the house.

"Let's go have that tea."

...

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