Apocalypse: King of Zombies
Chapter 659 - 659: You again?!

"Shit! We've been made!" Hank's heart dropped like a stone. Panic surged through him. "Boss, we gotta run—now!"

But when he turned around, Ethan was already gone. The spot where he'd been standing was completely empty, not even a shadow left behind.

"...What the hell?!" Hank's face twisted in disbelief. This was bad—really bad.

Vexia was closing in, her expression icy cold, radiating murderous intent. Her rage was practically tangible as she advanced slowly, flanked by a pack of snarling zombie underlings.

"I know you're hiding there. Get your ass out here!"

"Shit..." Hank and a few of the lesser zombies stumbled backward, retreating from behind the boulder and pressing themselves against the entrance of a narrow tunnel. Fear flickered in their eyes as they scanned the horde closing in.

But the moment Vexia got a good look at Hank's face, her brows furrowed in disgust.

"You again?!"

"..." Hank's face darkened like a thundercloud. "Vexia, I swear it wasn't me who stole the pigs this time. Can you just believe me for once?"

"You're still trying to lie to me?" Vexia's fury flared even hotter.

She couldn't believe it—she'd already dumped this bastard in The Exile Zone, and somehow, he'd crawled his way back.

Like a damn cockroach. No matter how many times you squash him, he keeps coming back.

"Kill him!" she barked, her voice sharp and final. She was done playing games. Time to end this pest for good.

The zombies behind her, already on edge, exploded into a frenzy. They let out guttural howls and charged forward like a tidal wave of death.

"Run!" Hank shouted, heart pounding. He dropped to the ground and scrambled into a narrow crawlspace—barely big enough for a dog.

His zombie lackeys didn't need to be told twice. They dove in right behind him, one after another.

The structure around them was tight and jagged, but it did the job—slowing the horde's momentum. The frenzied zombies piled up at the entrance, snarling and clawing at each other, only able to squeeze in one at a time.

"So this is how they snuck in to steal the pigs..." Vexia muttered, watching the scene unfold with narrowed eyes. But she wasn't worried. Killing Hank could wait—finding the pigs was more important.

The zombies that managed to squeeze through the tunnel moved like spiders, clinging to the walls, hissing and screeching as they pursued their prey.

Hank glanced back—and what he saw nearly made him piss himself. A wall of grotesque faces, packed tight, crawling over each other like a living avalanche, surging toward him.

"Hell no!" he gasped. Then his eyes landed on a cracked section of the tunnel wall. An idea sparked.

Without hesitation, he raised his massive fist and slammed it into the stone.

BOOM.

The impact echoed like thunder. The tunnel shook violently, and a chain reaction followed—rocks and debris rained down from above, collapsing the passage.

The zombies behind them didn't stand a chance. They were crushed instantly, blood and gore splattering in every direction, buried beneath tons of rubble.

"Move it!" Hank shouted to his crew, picking up speed.

They sprinted through the tunnel as it caved in behind them. In less than a minute, the entire passage was sealed off.

"Heh. You really think that's enough to escape me? How naive." Outside, Vexia sneered, her voice dripping with contempt. She wasn't worried in the slightest.

After all, she was a speed-type Zombie King—hunting prey was her specialty.

She bent her knees and launched herself into the air, clearing the high wall in a single leap. Then she took off, sprinting above ground, following Hank's escape route like a predator on the hunt.

"Let's see how far you get."

She moved like a gust of wind, leaving afterimages in her wake. In no time, she'd caught up to Hank's position—and then passed him.

Up ahead, she spotted a bald hill with a heavy stone slab on the ground. Beside it was the tunnel's exit.

"I'll wait for you right here," she murmured, planting herself at the exit, eyes locked on the opening.

She could already imagine the look on their faces when they popped out and saw her standing there. That moment of hope—snatched away in an instant.

Let them feel a little joy first. The crash into despair would hit even harder.

Vexia stood still, savoring the anticipation. She was far enough from the zombie horde now—her speed had left them in the dust.

But she wasn't alone.

A shadow moved silently behind her.

Ethan.

He crept up without a sound, his long fingers reaching out toward the back of her skull like the hand of death itself.

"Huh? Who—" Vexia's instincts kicked in. The moment Ethan revealed himself, she sensed something was wrong and whipped her head around.

Too late.

He was already too close.

At this range, even with her speed, there was no escape.

Ethan's Domain of the Dead enveloped her instantly. The pressure was overwhelming—SSS-level, even stronger than before.

Vexia's body locked up. A wave of pure terror crashed over her. Her speed—her pride—was useless now.

She barely managed to turn her head, just enough to see Ethan's face.

Then his fingers plunged into her skull.

Her vision went black. Consciousness vanished. Her body crumpled to the ground like a sack of rotting meat.

Ethan stood over her, calm and composed, a crystal core now glowing in his hand.

"Not bad..." he murmured, examining it.

It wasn't on the same level as the Crimson Count's or LORN's, but it was still high-grade.

Good enough for a starter meal.

Without hesitation, he popped the crystal core into his mouth.

Just then, a flurry of footsteps and panicked snarls echoed from the tunnel below.

Hank and his crew burst out of the hole, scrambling over each other in a full-blown panic. Dirt-covered, wide-eyed, and gasping for breath, they clawed their way to the surface.

But the moment they reached the exit, they froze.

Their eyes locked on the figure standing at the edge of the tunnel—dressed in white, calm as ever, casually tossing a crystal core into his mouth.

At his feet lay a crumpled corpse, twisted and lifeless. The face was frozen in a mask of terror, eyes wide open in disbelief, as if even in death, she couldn't accept what had happened.

It was Vexia.

The same Vexia who'd been hunting them down like prey just moments ago.

"The hell... she's dead?"

"How the hell did she die here...?"

"Is this... is this real?"

"Are we dreaming?"

The zombie underlings stared in stunned silence, unable to process what they were seeing. The terrifying Zombie King who'd been on their heels seconds ago was now just a broken body on the ground.

Hank's gaze shifted to Ethan, and the pieces clicked into place.

Vexia must've chased them here—and Ethan took her out.

But that didn't make sense. Vexia wasn't just any Zombie King—she was one of Dreadpaw's top enforcers. Fast, deadly, and damn near impossible to kill.

And Ethan had dropped her like it was nothing.

That was... insane.

"Hey. Quit staring. We need to move," Ethan said, snapping him out of it.

"R-Right! Yeah!" Hank jolted back to reality. The snarls and howls of the undead were getting louder—more were pouring out of the corpse nest, heading straight for them.

"Move!"

Without wasting another second, Hank grabbed his crew and bolted. They leapt out of the tunnel and took off running, not daring to look back.

They made a beeline for The Exile Zone—a vast, desolate wasteland where the terrain stretched endlessly in every direction. Once they disappeared into that barren sprawl, it'd be nearly impossible to track them down.

Their figures grew smaller and smaller, until they vanished into the bleak horizon...

...