Apocalypse: King of Zombies

At midnight sharp, Ethan, Chris, Henry, and their orange tabby, Pumpkin, climbed back up to the rooftop to stargaze.

No matter how exhausted they were, this ritual was non-negotiable. Stargazing wasn't just a habit—it was their edge, the secret sauce that kept them ahead of the curve.

They stayed up until five in the morning, then dragged themselves back to the dorm for a nap.

The next few days fell into a rhythm: zombie hunting by day, sleep and stars by night.

After the incident at the main dining hall, Ethan had grown even more cautious. He wouldn't make a move until he'd triple-checked that the coast was clear.

Fortunately, Tier 3 zombies were becoming more common. Each one still came with a pack of lesser undead, but with more of them around, it was easier to find isolated targets.

In just three days, the trio managed to take down eight Tier 3s.

Once Henry leveled up to Tier 3, Ethan claimed the rest of the crystal cores for himself, pushing his strength to the very peak of Tier 3.

It took seven Tier 3 cores to max out that tier. And the higher you climbed, the more cores it took—each step up the ladder got steeper and slower.

Now at the Tier 3 cap, Ethan's strength had broken past 2,000 pounds—he was clocking in at over 2,200. That was well beyond the limits of a normal human body.

By his estimate, most Tier 3s hovered between 1,400 and 1,800 pounds of force. His extra power? That came from the mysterious energy he absorbed every night while stargazing.

Each night under the stars gave him a boost of over 60 pounds. After seven nights, that added up to more than 400 pounds of bonus strength—enough to absolutely steamroll anyone else at his level.

Chris and Henry had each gained around 160 pounds of extra strength too. It didn't sound like much, but this was a long game. Over time, that edge would only grow.

Back on campus, fewer than a thousand people were still alive. Out of more than thirty thousand students and staff, only a sliver remained. The survival rate was terrifyingly low.

That number included the five hundred who'd escaped the main dining hall, thanks to Vivian's help. She'd gotten them out of the academic buildings too.

Now, new power squads were popping up all over campus. Many of them had members who'd reached Tier 2, and they could handle regular zombie mobs without breaking a sweat.

But with power came ambition. And with food running scarce, tensions between groups were flaring. Fights over supplies were becoming a daily occurrence.

Even Ethan's crew had been approached by a few teams trying to strong-arm them into joining—only to get their asses handed to them.

Day 11 of the apocalypse. Grad apartments.

"Ethan, we're out of food," Chris said, rummaging through his backpack with a sigh. "We've gotta go scavenging today."

"Not much left on campus," Henry muttered, frowning. "The convenience stores and the bigger supermarkets near school are all locked down by the stronger teams. It's gonna be tough."

"Yeah," Ethan exhaled. "Might be time to leave campus."

He didn't say it lightly. As much as he hated to admit it, he wasn't ready to let go of the university grounds.

Sure, it was dangerous here—but it was a closed system. Zombies from outside couldn't get in easily. Compared to the chaos beyond the gates, campus was still safer.

Plus, they knew this place. Every building, every shortcut. Out there, it'd be a whole different game—harder, riskier.

But they didn't have a choice. The food was gone. Staying meant starving.

"Let's hit one of the big supermarkets first," Ethan said. "See if we can scrounge up enough for today. Tomorrow, we move out."

"Got it."

The three of them slung on their backpacks and left the dorm, heading toward one of the larger supermarkets on the edge of campus.

When they got there, the front doors were shut tight.

Ethan activated his True Sight and scanned the interior. Nearly fifty people were inside.

But that wasn't what he cared about.

What mattered was—was there any food left?

Ethan scanned the supermarket interior through the metal shutter. The shelves out front were nearly stripped bare—but the storage room in the back still held a decent stash.

That was all he needed to see.

He smiled faintly, then stepped forward and knocked on the door.

"Who's there?" someone called out, startled.

"Could you open up?" Ethan said politely. "We just need to grab some food."

"There's nothing here. Try somewhere else," the voice replied, curt and defensive.

"We'll be the judge of that," Ethan said, still calm. "Just open the door. It's not exactly built like a fortress. Wouldn't want to break it."

"I said there's nothing! Get lost! If you so much as touch that door, I'll kill you!" someone snapped from inside.

He barely finished the sentence before a loud bang echoed through the air. A hole burst open in the center of the shutter, and a boot punched through.

Then two hands gripped the edges and tore the metal apart like it was cardboard. A moment later, three figures stepped through the gap.

"!!!"

"The fuck?! You broke our door? You got a death wish?!" the guy in front—brown hair, built like a linebacker—exploded with rage.

But before he could charge, someone behind him tugged his sleeve, voice trembling. "Rick… it's them. It's those three."

"I don't give a damn who—wait, shit." Rick finally got a good look at them. His face drained of color.

"Uh… Ethan. Didn't realize it was you guys. My bad," he said quickly, backing off.

"You know me?" Ethan asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Who doesn't?" Rick gave a sheepish laugh. "Everyone on campus knows who you are."

"Really? I'm that famous?"

"Well… you might not know this, but some of the teams have been keeping tabs. Ranking the most dangerous groups on campus. You three? Top of the list."

"There's a ranking?" Ethan blinked. "First I've heard of it."

"You guys always operate solo. Don't really mix with the other teams. Makes sense you wouldn't know. But for the rest of us, it's kind of… essential intel. You guys don't need it. We do."

Ethan shrugged. "Whatever. I don't really care. Got any food?"

Rick hesitated, clearly torn. But in the end, he didn't dare lie. "Yeah… we've got some left."

He turned to the others. "Go grab the food from the storage room."

"Wait, seriously—"

"Now."

"…Fine."

The others trudged off reluctantly. Food was survival. They didn't have much left, and no one wanted to hand it over. But when you were dealing with these three? You didn't have a choice.

A few minutes later, they came back carrying two boxes—one full of crackers, the other of bread.

"Will this be enough?" Rick asked, voice careful.

Ethan tossed over their three backpacks. "Fill 'em up. And grab a few bottles of water while you're at it."

"Sure thing." Rick didn't even blink.

Soon, the packs were stuffed, and Rick handed them over along with several bottles of water. He hesitated, then asked, "Ethan… with your strength, why not recruit more people? Right now, all the teams are at each other's throats. If you wanted, you could unite the whole campus."

"Not interested," Ethan said, slinging on his pack. He turned and walked out, Chris and Henry right behind him. No drama. No second thoughts.

Rick stood there, watching them go.

"Rick… they took so much. When the boss gets back, he's gonna kill us," one of his guys muttered, face pale.

Rick sighed. "What the hell was I supposed to do? You wanna stop those three? Be my guest. When the boss shows up, we'll just tell him the truth. If he's got the balls, he can go ask for the food back himself."

…