After killing Frank and Gale, Chris ran straight to find Henry—he still needed treatment for the wound on his chest.

With Frank dead, the morale inside the compound collapsed instantly.

People started giving up the fight and bolting for the exits.

They'd already been scared half to death. Now that Frank was gone, they didn't hesitate—they just ran.

Once the first few broke ranks, more and more followed, abandoning the attack and fleeing in a panic.

In no time, almost everyone had scattered—except for the core members of the Harlan family.

Even they hesitated for a while, but eventually turned and ran too.

Problem was, by then it was already too late.

Ethan and the others didn't know exactly who the core members were, but that didn't matter. Anyone running at the back? Fair game.

By the end of it, out of the ten thousand-plus people in the compound, over three thousand were killed by Ethan's group alone.

The ones who ran early got away. But not a single core member of the Harlan family made it out.

Now, the entire compound was littered with corpses. Not a single living soul remained.

Looking at the hellscape they'd created with their own hands, everyone felt a heavy weight settle in their chests. These weren't zombies—they were people. None of them had expected to kill so many.

Ethan let out a long breath. "This is the apocalypse. If we don't kill, we get killed. If you want to survive, your hands are gonna get bloody. No way around it."

The others nodded grimly.

"Come on. Let's loot the place."

They quickly spread out, searching every corner of the compound—every room, every basement, nothing left unchecked.

Before long, they'd gathered piles of supplies. Under the floorboards in Frank's room, they even found thousands of crystal cores of various tiers.

They also discovered a deep pit built into the compound—reinforced with concrete and steel bars, the top covered with a thick steel mesh. Long, sharp spikes jutted down into the pit.

Inside were hundreds of zombies—Tier 4s, Tier 5s—all with their limbs broken.

Say what you will, the Harlan family really knew how to raise zombies.

The setup was so meticulous, even Ethan felt a little embarrassed.

"Ethan, why don't we just live here?" Skinny Pete said. "There's enough supplies to last us a long time, and the place is fully equipped. We wouldn't have to go out scavenging anymore."

"You think this place is more comfortable than where we're staying now?" Ethan asked.

"Well, no," Pete admitted. "But it's a ready-made compound. If we're planning to build a faction, wouldn't this be a good base?"

Ethan shook his head. "This place isn't suitable. Starlight City has a population of over five million. Based on what we've seen, that means there are probably over four million zombies in the city. That's a terrifying number."

"So far, humans have only scratched the surface. There are still countless zombies hiding in every corner of Starlight City."

"And the higher the tier, the smarter they get. A Stage D—Tier 6—zombie can command tens of thousands. So you can imagine what a Tier 7 can do—probably summon fifty, maybe a hundred thousand. And anything above that? Don't even want to think about it."

"Sure, the government's Safe Zones look solid now, but if a high-tier zombie shows up and leads a horde of hundreds of thousands, those Safe Zones are toast."

"Damn… then what chance do humans have?" Big Mike asked, eyes wide.

"There's still hope," Ethan said. "But we'll have to give up the cities for now. Retreat to the wilderness or the mountains. Fewer people means fewer zombies. Plus, there's land—enough to grow food and solve the supply problem."

"Once we hit Stage D, and combine crystal core absorption with drawing in mysterious energy, our growth rate will outpace the zombies. And every Stage D human gets a power. That's when we'll finally be able to fight back."

"So forget about the Safe Zones near the cities. They're doomed sooner or later. If we're going to build a faction, it has to be far from the city."

"And honestly, I need to think hard about whether we should even start a faction. It's a huge responsibility—so many people to manage, so many problems to solve. It could end up slowing down my own progress."

"Unless we find someone really good at leadership and logistics, I'd rather not rush into it."

"Alright, Ethan. You're the boss. Whatever you decide, we're with you," the group said one after another.

"Good. Once we take out Mayor Marks and everyone hits Stage D, we're leaving Starlight City. Chris and I need to head back home—there's something I need to check." A cold glint flashed in Ethan's eyes.

"Got it."

"Ethan, are we gonna take out Mayor Marks the same way—just storm in and kill him?" Henry asked.

"You wish," Ethan snorted. "That place isn't like this one. They've got over two hundred thousand people by now, and their weapons are on a whole different level. If we tried to brute-force it, we'd be dead before we even knew what hit us."

"Uh… then how are you planning to kill him?" Henry asked again.

"If we can't take him head-on, we go the sneaky route. Assassination, right Chris?" Ethan said with a grin.

"Heh, now that's my specialty," Chris said smugly.

"Yeah? Says the guy who came running to me with a giant hole in his chest, begging for treatment," Henry shot back.

"..."

"Alright, enough bickering, you two," Ethan cut in. "Let's see if there's a supply truck around here we can use. Load up as much as we can and head back."

"Got it."

The group searched the compound and eventually found a few trucks. They loaded one up to the brim with supplies and drove off.

It wasn't that they didn't want to take more—problem was, only Sean knew how to drive. So one truck it was.

Still, with just seven of them, that one truckload would last a long time.

The trip back was smooth, thanks to the route being cleared earlier.

But halfway there, the truck came to a stop.

Up ahead, a swarm of hundreds of zombies was chasing a lone human—completely blocking the road.

Ethan was just about to deal with both the zombies and the runner when the fleeing person spotted their truck.

Then, to everyone's surprise, the runner didn't head toward them for help. Instead, they abruptly changed direction and bolted the other way.

"Huh… interesting," Ethan muttered, raising an eyebrow.

Most people in that situation would've sprinted straight toward the truck. Best-case scenario, they'd get rescued. Worst case, even if the people inside didn't help, they could at least draw the zombies' attention and buy time to escape.

But this guy? The moment he saw them, he didn't even hesitate—just turned and ran the other way.

That caught Ethan off guard.

Curious, he activated True Sight and focused on the runner.

What he saw made him pause.

He knew this person.

Couldn't recall the name, but the face? Definitely familiar.

He'd seen him before—he was sure of it.

He just couldn't place where. Not yet.

...

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