"Run for it—now!"

The four zombies didn't hesitate for a second. As if they shared one mind, they spun around and bolted like hell.

The path downhill was smooth and steep, perfect for a quick getaway. They leapt, tumbled, and rolled their way down the slope in seconds.

Running away? That was practically in their DNA. They were pros at this.

"They're fast, huh?" Pickle peered down the slope, eyebrows raised in surprise.

A faint green glow pulsed from his body. His clawed fingers morphed into writhing vines, lashing out like wild tentacles, sweeping down toward the fleeing zombies.

The greenery spread fast, snaking through the air, about to wrap them up tight.

"Light him up!" Shrimpy shouted, instantly switching into combat mode. He whipped out his Crystal Core Firearm from his back with textbook precision and pulled the trigger.

The gun wasn't top-tier, but it was more than enough to shred some vines.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The crystal core inside the weapon flared to life, unleashing a barrage of explosive energy. The vines were torn apart mid-air, green fragments flying everywhere as acrid smoke filled the air.

"Shit... that burns!" Pickle hissed, shielding himself with his arm. The pain made him bare his teeth in a grimace.

Meanwhile, the Heartland zombies took the opening and charged toward the Overlord Squad, their twisted, snarling faces closing in fast.

"Mist! Smoke screen, now!" Big Ears barked.

"On it!" Mist replied, and in the next instant, thick black smoke poured from his body like an octopus releasing ink.

The dense fog swallowed the battlefield, plunging everything into darkness.

The Heartland zombies rushed in—and immediately lost all visibility.

"What the hell is this?"

"Can't see shit..."

"I can still smell them. Follow me!"

One of the elite zombies had a nose like a bloodhound. He led the others forward, sniffing through the dark.

They moved through the smoke like blind men in a maze, the world around them pitch black.

"Smell anything? Where'd they go?" one of the zombies behind asked, clearly frustrated.

The lead zombie paused. "Wait... I think I smell crystal core energy. Like it just got discharged."

"What?"

The others froze, eyes wide.

Then—flickers of light appeared in the smoke, fast and closing in.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

A hail of gunfire tore through the fog, slamming into the Heartland zombies.

The Overlord Squad had gone full assault mode. All four of them opened fire with their Crystal Core Firearms, unloading everything they had.

"Hell yeah!" one of them shouted, grinning ear to ear.

Their weapons might've only been A or B-grade, but they packed a serious punch.

The Heartland zombies were shredded—limbs flying, black blood spraying, screams echoing through the smoke.

"You useless pieces of crap!" Pickle was fuming, green light surging around him like a storm. His arms morphed completely into thick, writhing vines, and with a violent whip forward, they split into multiple branches mid-air, spinning rapidly to block the incoming Crystal Core Firearm blasts.

Big Ears narrowed his eyes. This guy was still a serious problem.

An S+ level combatant—way out of their league right now.

"Forget fighting! We need to get the hell out of here—run!" he shouted.

"Oh, oh! Which way?" Shrimpy asked, already turning.

"Where else? To the ship!" Big Ears snapped.

They weren't alone out here—other Heartland zombies were lurking nearby. All this noise was bound to draw more attention. If they didn't bail now, they'd be swarmed.

The four Overlord Squad zombies stopped firing and bolted toward the recon corvette, sprinting like their lives depended on it—because they did.

Behind them, Pickle and his crew were still in full rage mode after getting blasted to hell. No way they were letting this slide. Locking onto the Overlord Squad's scent, they gave chase at full speed.

"Stop right there! Don't run!"

"Yeah, sure," Big Ears muttered under his breath. "Only an idiot would stop."

But the roars behind them were getting louder—closer.

Pickle's crew were high-level evolved zombies from Heartland. They weren't just strong—they were fast.

Shrimpy and Locomotive turned and fired a few wild shots over their shoulders as they ran, but trying to aim while sprinting? Total crapshoot. They barely hit anything.

"Big Ears, we're not landing any shots. You take over!"

The two of them stopped shooting and focused on running, quickly overtaking Big Ears.

They were faster—Shrimpy had better stamina, and Locomotive had that evolution virus boost. Big Ears, on the other hand, had none of that. His enhanced hearing didn't do jack for running. He wasn't as experienced as Mist, not as fit as Shrimpy, and definitely not enhanced like Locomotive.

"C'mon, Big Ears! You got this!"

"Hurry up! Those Heartland freaks are right behind you!"

"If you don't make it, we might just take off without ya!"

"…"

The three of them were already at the recon corvette's hatch, yelling back at him.

Big Ears was panicking now.

Please don't take off… If they left now, he'd be zombie chow.

Behind him, the snarls were deafening. Through the thinning smoke, he could see twisted, furious shapes charging straight at him.

He glanced back and forth, gauging the distance. At this rate, he might not make it to the ship before they caught him.

"Screw it!"

He clenched his teeth and yanked out his S-rank Crystal Core Hand-Cannon. The energy core was nearly drained—this would be its final shot.

His heart ached. He hadn't managed to scavenge a new S-rank core to replace it. No more "Cannon King" after this. This was the end of an era.

BOOM—

Big Ears spun around and fired.

The cannon roared, unleashing every last drop of energy in a blinding blast.

At this range, it was dead-on.

The explosion ripped through the charging zombies, shaking the ground and sending shockwaves through the air.

Heartland zombies were thrown back, limbs flying, bodies torn apart.

Big Ears didn't waste a second. He turned and sprinted, legs pumping like mad. Three strides, then he launched himself into the air and dove headfirst into the recon corvette's open hatch.

Right then, blue flames burst from the ship's thrusters—it was lifting off.

But down below, in the middle of the scorched battlefield, Pickle let out a furious roar. His body was scorched, blood oozing from burns, but his rage was volcanic. Flaming vines shot up from the ground, lashing toward the ascending ship.

"Holy shit!" Shrimpy yelped. The squad scrambled, unloading everything they had.

Their Crystal Core Firearms lit up, pouring out a storm of firepower. The vines were shredded mid-air, finally falling away as the recon corvette blasted upward into the sky.

They were safe.

Smoke and black mist slowly cleared below. The four zombies leaned out of the hatch, peering down.

The battlefield was a mess. Big Ears' final shot had taken out a good chunk of the Heartland zombies.

Pickle was still standing—but barely. His body was charred, blood dripping from open wounds. He looked like hell, but his eyes burned with pure, murderous fury as he glared up at the ship.

"What're you lookin' at, huh? Come up here and fight me if you're so tough!"

"Nyah nyah nyah! Can't reach us! Cry harder, loser!"

"Stay mad, Pickle Boy! We'll jar you up sooner or later!"

The four of them leaned out of the hatch, pulling faces and hurling taunts as the recon corvette soared into the sky, leaving the battlefield—and a very pissed-off Pickle—far behind.

…

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