After stuffing themselves with food and drink, Ethan and the others slung their backpacks over their shoulders and stood up.

Not far off, the other group tensed the moment they saw Ethan's crew rise. Their hearts practically leapt into their throats—half-expecting another round of beatings.

But their fear turned out to be unnecessary. Ethan didn't even glance their way, let alone bother with them.

"Ethan, how are we getting out of here?" Henry asked.

"Let's check the back. I remember this place has a rear exit. We'll see how many zombies are out there."

"Got it."

With the plan settled, they headed toward the back of the supermarket.

Sure, it was nice in here—plenty to eat and drink, a rare bit of comfort. But they all knew too well: comfort was for the dead.

The zombies were evolving. If they didn't keep up, extinction was just a matter of time.

It didn't take long to find the back door. Ethan activated True Sight and scanned the outside. A few zombies lingered nearby, but not enough to be a real threat. With their current strength, breaking through wouldn't be a problem.

The door was locked, but Ethan popped it open with a flick of his wrist and a twist of his knife. The hinges creaked as the door swung wide.

The sound drew the attention of a few nearby zombies. They snarled and charged.

Ethan and the others moved instantly, cutting them down with brutal efficiency.

"Move! That noise'll bring more," Ethan warned.

"Right." Chris and Henry nodded, and the three of them bolted into the distance.

Whether by accident or on purpose, Ethan didn't bother closing the door behind them. It hung open, swaying slightly in the breeze.

Back inside the supermarket, the remaining group finally exhaled in relief.

Ethan's crew had been a walking storm cloud over their heads. Even with nearly twenty people, they'd felt helpless—because those three could fight.

And they didn't pull punches either. A few of their own were still lying on the floor, groaning.

A couple of the men had done what they could for Preston's mangled crotch. But this wasn't a pharmacy, and there were no real medical supplies—just some makeshift bandages and a prayer.

When they got a good look at what was left of him, every guy in the room winced. Another one down. Welcome to the eunuch club.

Even before the apocalypse, this kind of injury would've been a nightmare. Now? Best-case scenario, he gets a prosthetic.

Smack!

Preston's hand cracked across Lola's face.

"You fucking bitch! This is all your fault!"

"You—" Lola clutched her cheek, staring at him in disbelief.

She couldn't believe it. He was actually blaming her for this?

Smack!

Another slap, even harder.

"What the hell are you looking at, you whore? If I'm ruined, you're not getting off easy either!"

In that moment, Preston dropped the last of his gentleman act. The mask was gone. All that was left was rage and bile.

His dick was gone, and he still thought he had the right to act like a man.

Blood trickled from the corner of Lola's mouth. Those slaps hadn't been light.

She lowered her head, silent now, unable to meet his eyes. The disgust in his gaze was unmistakable.

And for the first time, regret crept in. She'd thrown away the man who'd cared for her, protected her for three years—just for this?

"One day," Preston growled, eyes burning, "I swear I'll kill them all."

Just then, a noise echoed from the back of the supermarket.

Preston immediately shut his mouth, heart pounding. For a second, he thought Ethan and his crew had come back.

But instead, two figures appeared in the doorway.

The moment the group saw them, panic exploded.

"Zombies!"

"How the hell did they get in!?"

"Shit—it's the back door! Someone left it open!"

The zombies, thrilled by the sight of fresh prey, let out guttural howls and charged.

The survivors scrambled to grab whatever makeshift weapons they could—metal rods, broken chair legs, even canned goods—and rushed to fight them off.

But it was no use.

More and more zombies poured in, drawn by the noise and the scent of blood. The already-injured group was quickly overwhelmed, swallowed by the tide of the undead.

...

Meanwhile, Ethan, Chris, and Henry were making their way toward the main dining hall.

They were hunting mutated zombies, and that area had the highest concentration of infected. If there were any to be found, that was the place.

Zombies kept popping up along the way. Even with Ethan using True Sight to avoid most of them, there were still plenty they couldn't sidestep.

The campus had once held over thirty thousand people. Now, at least twenty-seven thousand of them were zombies. No matter where you went, you were bound to run into some.

If Ethan didn't have True Sight, he wouldn't have dared to step outside at all.

Soon, they reached a spot just shy of the dining hall. One look at the horde swarming the area, and all three of them sucked in a sharp breath.

"Holy shit," Henry muttered, swallowing hard. "There's gotta be a few thousand out there."

"No way anyone inside's getting out," Chris said, stunned.

"Yeah," Ethan murmured. "We need to stay the hell away from crowded places like this from now on."

The other two nodded in agreement.

Ethan activated True Sight again, scanning the mass of zombies. His expression shifted—surprise flickering across his face.

"What is it?" Chris asked.

"There are over a hundred mutated zombies in that crowd," Ethan said, voice low.

Chris and Henry's eyes went wide. "That many!?"

"Yeah. It's clear now—mutated zombies are increasing in number," Ethan said grimly. "And there's one in there that's... different."

"Different how?"

"Well, most mutated zombies have a crystal core in their heads about the size of a grain of rice. This one's core is closer to a pea."

"You mean there are different types of mutated zombies?"

"This is the first time I've seen it," Ethan admitted. "But if I had to guess—think of it like a game. The ones we've fought so far are Tier 1. That one? Probably Tier 2."

Chris and Henry stared at him, alarmed. "So it's stronger?"

"Definitely." Ethan nodded, the weight of it settling in his chest.

He'd thought he was finally strong enough to handle these things. But now, it turned out there were even more powerful versions waiting in the wings.

"These zombies really are evolving," he said, frowning. "Regular ones are turning into Tier 1s, and Tier 1s are becoming Tier 2s. If humans keep hiding and hoping, we're just delaying the inevitable."

"Should we tell people about the crystal cores?" Chris asked.

Ethan thought for a moment. "We should. If we don't, humanity's screwed. But it's better if it doesn't come from us. Otherwise, we'll be neck-deep in trouble."

"The military's probably already noticed," he continued. "They've been clearing out zombies with heavy weapons. If anyone's found the cores, it's them. Let's wait. It'll be better if the authorities make it public."

"Yeah, makes sense. So... are we still going in?"

"With that many zombies? Hell no. Let's find another spot. This place is a lost cause."

"Fair enough."

The three of them turned and slipped away.

...

Inside the main dining hall.

"Soup again? This watery crap doesn't even count as food. I need something real!"

"Seriously! We're starving out here. Are they trying to kill us with this slop?"

The complaints were getting louder. Hunger was turning into fury.

"If you don't want it, give it to me. And quit whining. If you've got the guts, go find food outside," someone snapped.

"Exactly. Be grateful you've got anything at all. You think this is still your rich-boy boarding school life?"

"Fuck off. You're the kind of loser who was born to eat soup. The school's got food—they're just hoarding it. If we don't fight back, we'll never get enough to eat."

"There are zombies everywhere. Even if there's food, we have to ration it. Who knows when help's coming?"

"At this rate, we'll starve before rescue ever shows up."

The crowd split into two camps—those who wanted to protest, and those who just wanted to survive. The shouting grew louder, angrier.

The Dean of Students stood off to the side, frowning deeply.

It was only Day Three of the apocalypse, and already things were unraveling.

To his credit, he'd done everything he could. The moment things went south, he'd gathered the students in the dining hall, trying to keep them fed and safe.

But people were never easy to satisfy. Not before the world ended—and certainly not after.

...

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