After leaving Silver Lake Ridge, Ethan and the others summoned Pumpkin back and resumed their journey—lugging that massive iron cage along with them.

The thing was heavy as hell and a pain to carry, but if they wanted to raise a Stage D zombie, they had no choice. Consider it strength training.

Stage D was a major threshold. Just like humans, zombies hitting that level wasn't easy. In all this time, they'd only encountered one Stage D zombie—the one they'd killed. Nothing since.

Most powerful survivors were stuck at Tier 5 peak, unable to break through. That bottleneck worked in Ethan's favor. The longer everyone else stalled, the bigger his lead became.

Stage D Awakened didn't need to stargaze every night to absorb mysterious energy—they could do it passively. That alone was a game-changer.

But it wouldn't last forever. Sooner or later, more Stage D zombies would start showing up.

And killing one? That was no small feat.

Unless you had a top-tier Awakened on your side, the only way to bring one down was to throw bodies at it—Tier 5 Enhanced bodies, at that. Anything lower was just zombie chow.

Still, if you managed to kill one, your whole team could skyrocket overnight.

Once a squad had a Stage D Awakened, taking down more Stage D zombies became a lot easier. Even non-Awakened who reached Stage D would awaken an ability, and that alone made them a serious threat to any zombie of the same tier.

So far, they hadn't seen any zombies with actual powers. Stage D zombies were just tougher, faster, and a hell of a lot smarter—but no abilities. Yet.

Ethan couldn't help but wonder: what if they did start evolving powers? And if they did… would eating one of their crystal cores grant a special ability?

Of course, that assumed you could even survive the fight.

...

Seven miles outside the government Safe Zone, in a battered residential district…

The air still reeked of gunpowder. After a brutal round of shelling, most of the zombies in the area had been wiped out. Now, squads of soldiers were sweeping through the buildings, checking for survivors—and scavenging whatever supplies they could find.

Most people had turned on Day One. If a room hadn't been visited by another survivor since then, chances were it still held something useful. Zombies didn't care about canned beans or toilet paper.

One by one, soldiers emerged from the buildings, hauling bags stuffed with whatever they could carry. Not just food—soap, batteries, clothes. The base needed everything.

But no survivors.

That was the part they were used to now. The deeper they pushed, the fewer people they found alive.

"Colonel! Three survivors found!" a soldier called out, jogging down the stairs of a nearby building.

Behind him came three men—disheveled, filthy, clothes hanging off them in tatters. They looked like every other survivor the army had pulled out of the ruins: half-starved, half-crazed, and wholly grateful.

"Three's better than none," Colonel Reyes said, nodding.

The moment they saw Reyes, their legs gave out.

They collapsed to their knees, shaking, tears streaming down their faces.

"Thank you—God, thank you for saving us!"

"Don't mention it," Reyes said, stepping forward quickly to help them up. "It's our duty."

But just as Colonel Reyes reached out to help the three men to their feet—everything went to hell.

In a flash, the "survivors" pulled knives from inside their ragged clothes and lunged straight at him.

The attack was so sudden, no one had time to react.

Reyes sensed something was wrong and instinctively stepped back, but it was too late. One of the attackers moved with terrifying speed—Tier 5 Enhanced.

The blade plunged deep into Reyes' chest, striking with surgical precision—straight through the heart.

"Colonel!"

Shouts erupted as soldiers scrambled toward him, weapons drawn. Others rushed to subdue the attackers.

But the three men didn't resist. As soon as the job was done, they bit down on hidden capsules. By the time the soldiers reached them, all three were already dead—foam at their lips, eyes glassy.

"Colonel, hang in there!"

"Get him to the Safe Zone—now! Call every medic we've got!"

A group of soldiers moved to lift Reyes onto a stretcher, but he raised a trembling hand to stop them.

"It's no use…" he rasped, blood bubbling at his lips. "I know my condition. Even before the world ended, this would've been fatal…"

"No, sir! We can still save you! Just hold on—we're almost there!"

"Don't waste time," Reyes said, voice weakening. "Listen to me…"

He turned to Major Zach Taylor, eyes sharp despite the pain. "After I'm gone… you're in charge of the Guard. Keep the rescue ops going. And don't—don't start a fight with Mayor Marks. Wait until comms are back up. Let HQ handle it."

"Colonel, I swear—those bastards were working with Marks. I'll take a team back right now and put a bullet in that snake's head!"

"Zach…" Reyes coughed hard, blood spilling down his chin. "You're ignoring my orders now?"

"Colonel!"

"Follow orders."

"…Yes, sir."

"And don't jump to conclusions. No proof, no accusations. Wait for HQ."

Zach clenched his fists, eyes burning red. "Understood."

The soldiers gathered around, silent, grief-stricken.

"Zach…" Reyes turned to him again, his voice barely a whisper. "Do me one last favor."

"Anything, Colonel."

"Mia's father… was my brother-in-arms. Before he died, he asked me to look after her. Now that I'm gone… she'll need someone. She's just a girl, and this world's too cruel."

Zach nodded, jaw tight. "I swear, Colonel. I'll protect her with my life."

Reyes gave a faint smile. "Good… that's good…"

Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth as his body began to go still. His eyes, once sharp and commanding, dimmed as the last flicker of life slipped away.

Then they closed.

And darkness took him.

"Colonel Reyes!"

The soldiers dropped to their knees, their cries echoing through the ruined streets.

He had been the Deputy Brigade Commander, a leader who treated his men like family. His death hit the National Guard like a hammer to the chest.

After a long silence, Zach gave the order to carry Reyes' body to the truck. Then they drove back to the Safe Zone.

As they approached the gates, they found a crowd gathered—civilians and soldiers alike. And at the front, waiting with a solemn expression, stood Mayor Marks.

The moment the convoy rolled in, Marks stepped forward, face etched with grief.

"I heard… about Colonel Reyes…"

"Cut the act," Zach said coldly. "You know damn well how he died."

"Major Taylor," Marks replied, voice smooth and measured, "I'll chalk that up to grief. But let me be clear—this is the only time I'll tolerate such an accusation."

"You—!"

Zach surged forward, but a soldier behind him grabbed his arm and held him back.

"Major, don't. You remember what Colonel Reyes said."

Zach gritted his teeth, then let out a sharp breath. "Tch."

He shoved past Marks without another word, leading the team and Reyes' body into the Safe Zone.

Once the crowd dispersed, Mayor Marks stood alone at the gate.

A slow, satisfied smile curled at the corners of his mouth.

With Reyes gone, and Zach next on the list, the Safe Zone would soon be his to control—completely.

...

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