Apocalypse: King of Zombies

Human Civilization — Inner City.

Inside a lavish hall, Claire Monroe sat motionless in her chair. Her expression was blank, eyes unfocused, but every now and then, a flicker of cold calculation flashed through them. Whatever she was thinking, it wasn't pleasant.

Below her, a group of servants and senior members of the Monroe family stood like statues—silent, stiff, and tense. The air was thick with dread.

A heavy shadow had fallen over the entire Monroe family.

"Ma'am… are we really going to trade a Dreadnought-class Starcruiser for Miss Aria?" one of the butlers finally broke the silence, his voice cautious.

"Hell no," Claire snapped. "That plan's a joke. If we send a Dreadnought-class Starcruiser, that damn Zombie King will just take the ship and kill everyone on board."

Just like Ethan had predicted—she never actually intended to go through with the trade. Agreeing to it was just a stalling tactic.

The butler nodded slowly. Yeah, that made sense.

The Zombie King wasn't exactly known for keeping his word.

And even if the trade somehow worked, the other major families would never allow it. The Dreadnought-class Starcruiser was built with the combined resources of all humanity—it didn't belong to the Monroe family alone.

"Then… what should we do?" the butler asked, his face clouded with worry.

The others began murmuring among themselves, their expressions grim as they tried to come up with a plan.

Claire thought for a moment. Sending any kind of elite to face the Zombie King would be suicide. It'd be like tossing bodies into a bottomless pit—completely futile.

They weren't even the same kind of creature. Not even close.

The only chance they had was to fight him on home turf—within human territory. Maybe then, just maybe, they'd stand a chance.

"Wait… are we seriously thinking about luring him here?" The idea popped into Claire's head, but she immediately shut it down. That would be like inviting a wolf into your house. Way too dangerous.

"Aunt Claire," a young man spoke up, "maybe we should stop and ask ourselves—what does the Zombie King actually want? What's his goal? If he's after something, maybe we can prove that we're more useful alive than dead. That might be enough to keep him from killing us."

The others frowned at that. "You're saying… we should help the Zombie King with something? That's treason. We'd be betraying humanity."

"But it's the only way we might survive—and save cousin Aria," the young man said firmly, no hesitation in his voice.

His words made Claire pause.

What did that white-shirted Zombie King want most?

She thought back to Necroterra. The zombie hordes had surged out of Heartland and were sweeping across the other regions. Then, right after that… the Zombie King appeared in Xenorift.

Was he… running from something?

That thought hit her like a lightning bolt.

"I think… I know what he's after," Claire said slowly, eyes narrowing. "Maybe we really can negotiate with him."

"But it's risky," the young man said, his face tight with concern. "If we're wrong, we're not coming back."

"I know," Claire nodded, then gave him a look. "You're coming with me."

"Wait—what?" The young man froze.

"What, you don't want to help me save Aria?" Claire asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I—of course I do! I'll do whatever it takes to get cousin Aria back," he said quickly. If he was going to get dragged into this anyway, he might as well show some backbone. Maybe it'd earn him some points.

"Good," Claire said, her eyes hardening with resolve. "I knew I could count on you."

No matter what it took, she was going to get her daughter back.

No matter what.

Meanwhile, on the other side—

Aria's eyes were red-rimmed, her lips pressed into a tight line. She'd been completely reduced to a prisoner.

All her gear had been confiscated.

Ricky held her katana in his hands, the blade gleaming with a faint blue light.

"Damn," he whistled, admiring it. "Not gonna lie… this katana's actually pretty sweet."

"Don't—don't touch my katana!" Aria snapped, her face flushing with anger and desperation.

Ricky ignored her completely and walked over to Ethan, holding the weapon up. "Boss, this thing's solid. You want it?"

"Nah, keep it," Ethan said with a shrug. The katana was decent, sure—but to him, it was just a toy.

Besides, anything that blade could cut through, his Fire Stick from Earth could handle just as well. He didn't need it.

"Sweet," Ricky grinned, slinging the weapon across his back. He looked genuinely pleased.

He couldn't help but think back to the fight earlier—getting kicked around like that had a lot to do with the gear gap. Now, with this katana, things might be different next time.

He turned to Aria, eyes gleaming. "Boss says we're not killing you—for now. So how about this: once you're healed up, no weapons, just you and me. One-on-one. You in?"

"Hmph! Even without a weapon, you're no match for me!" Aria growled, her voice full of venom.

She hated this kid. Hated him with every fiber of her being.

Ricky's eyes lit up. "Cool. Then I'll wait till you're back at full strength. Wouldn't want you crying that I took advantage."

"..."

The battle in the forest had come to a close. The group finished clearing the field.

Back at the Lizardfolk Clan Stronghold, the parasitic monsters that had overrun the place seemed to sense the overwhelming SSS-level presence. As if receiving some silent command, they retreated like a receding tide.

Within minutes, they vanished into the dense jungle.

What remained of the stronghold was a wreck—bloodstains everywhere, debris scattered across the ground. It looked like a natural disaster had torn through.

"It's over… it's all over… why did it have to end like this?" The Lizardfolk Chieftain's voice trembled, his old face twisted in grief. He could barely accept the reality that his stronghold had been destroyed.

Ethan, ever blunt, offered a different perspective. "I mean, look on the bright side—you're the Lizard King now."

"Huh??" The Chieftain blinked, stunned. That… was not a path he'd ever imagined.

Me? The Lizard King?

Sure, the main stronghold was gone, but there were still scattered Lizardfolk settlements in the surrounding regions. They'd been set up for exactly this kind of situation—early warning, fallback points, and to preserve the bloodline in case of total annihilation.

Like not putting all your eggs in one basket.

The Chieftain fell into deep thought. Maybe rebuilding wasn't impossible after all. Their combat strength might be lacking, but their fertility? Off the charts. One clutch could hatch seventy eggs…

Yeah. Give it a little time, and they'd bounce back.

Ethan glanced at him. In this world, it was survival of the fittest. The Lizardfolk were near the bottom of the food chain—like weeds. Cut them down, and they'd just grow back. Same color, same shape. Green as ever.

"Come on," Ethan said. "Let's check out your stronghold."

"Y-yes, of course!" The Chieftain snapped out of his thoughts and quickly agreed. He wanted to see for himself what had happened—and whether there were any survivors.

Soon, the whole group—over ten thousand Lizardfolk warriors included—marched into the ruined stronghold.

The treehouses had collapsed. The ground was cracked and torn. In some places, blood mixed with slime still clung to the walls.

It looked like the aftermath of a biblical plague.

But as the Lizardfolk warriors searched the ruins, they actually found a number of survivors—those who had hidden in underground chambers and managed to avoid the slaughter.

"You—tell me what happened here!" the Chieftain demanded.

"It… it was an invasion," one of the survivors stammered, still shaken. "The parasitic monsters were driven here. They said a zombie horde was coming from another direction. Even if they didn't kill us, we wouldn't have made it out alive…"

…