Apocalypse: King of Zombies - Chapter 113

Chapter 113: Prey

“Huh?”

Edward followed Margaret’s gaze and spotted a hunched old woman standing on the rooftop of a tall building ahead.

What made his skin crawl was her appearance—half of her face was human, while the other half resembled a cat. The sight was downright eerie.

But what was even more terrifying was what she was doing. The old woman was kneeling on the rooftop, hands clasped together in prayer, bowing toward the bright full moon hanging in the sky.

The moonlight bathed her half-human, half-cat face, making her look disturbingly devout, almost fanatical. The scene was chilling, like some ancient, sinister ritual.

“This is so creepy!”

Edward felt a shiver run down his spine, his scalp tingling as cold sweat broke out all over his body. The sight of a cat-faced old woman worshipping the moon was something straight out of a nightmare.

Phantom Infected!

“Run! It’s a Phantom Infected!” Edward blurted out instinctively.

But the four survivors standing nearby didn’t react. They just stood there, frozen, as if they hadn’t heard him.

Suddenly, a sharp “Meow~~~” erupted from one of their mouths.

The next moment, all four of their eyes transformed—becoming cat-like, their pupils narrowing into needle-thin slits.

“What the hell?!” Edward’s heart nearly stopped, his scalp prickling with fear.

One of the survivors, a young man, suddenly grinned wickedly and spoke in a raspy voice:

“Hey there, little one. Don’t run. I’ve got something tasty for you.”

The tone was disturbingly familiar—it was the same voice Edward had used when trying to catch a Siamese cat once.

“What the hell is going on?!” Edward’s mind was in chaos. The events of the day had gone from strange to outright horrifying. Without thinking, he turned and bolted.

Margaret, standing beside him, hadn’t been possessed by the cat spirits either. But faced with such a terrifying scene, even a man would be paralyzed with fear—let alone her. She couldn’t help but cry out in a trembling voice:

“Edward… wait for me!”

The two of them ran as fast as they could, pushing their bodies to the limit. But the survivors, now possessed, seemed to have gained the speed and agility of cats. They were unnaturally fast, closing the distance between them and Edward and Margaret with alarming ease.

Even compared to Awakeners who had developed Neurocores, these possessed survivors were just as fast—if not faster.

The gap between them was shrinking.

“Margaret, run faster!” Edward shouted, his voice filled with urgency.

“I’m trying!” Margaret nodded frantically, but as she glanced at Edward out of the corner of her eye, a selfish thought crept into her mind.

If this keeps up… I’m going to die…

Her face twisted with desperation. Gritting her teeth, she clenched her fist and swung it hard at Edward’s face.

“Edward! I’m sorry! I don’t want to die!” she sobbed, tears streaming down her face.

“Margaret, you—”

Edward staggered from the blow. Already unsteady from running, he lost his balance and fell to the ground, tumbling forward several times from the momentum.

In that brief moment, the four possessed survivors caught up to him. They pounced on him like feral cats, clawing and biting at him with inhuman ferocity.

Edward’s clothes were shredded, his skin torn open, and pain shot through his body.

As he lay there, his gaze locked onto Margaret’s fleeing figure. He reached out a trembling hand toward her, his heart consumed by a tidal wave of hatred.

But his strength quickly faded, and his hand fell limp to the ground.

…

“Something’s wrong. We need to get out of here!” Blaze stood at the entrance of the basement, his expression grim as he peered outside. Having survived the apocalypse for so long, his sharp instincts told him that something was very, very off.

“Yeah,” Pointed Nose agreed, nodding as he glanced back into the basement.

“Blaze, what about the survivors?”

“Are you kidding me? At a time like this? Leave them! Let them be bait!” Blaze said decisively. He figured the survivors could serve as a distraction, buying them some time to escape.

With their minds made up, the two of them immediately took off.

But the cat-faced old woman on the rooftop had already sensed their presence. With a powerful leap, she jumped to another building, pursuing them with terrifying speed. It was clear she wasn’t going to let them go.

At the same time, two figures appeared at the corner of the street—two Zombie Kings.

One of them was the Bone-Claw Zombie King, a notorious figure in the Eastern Region of the River.

The other was the third Zombie King, a “woman.”

Her body was thin and frail, her limbs bony and weak, making her look as though a gust of wind could knock her over. But her stomach was grotesquely swollen, round and bulging as if it were about to burst.

Beneath her stretched skin, the outline of a Zombie Fetus could be faintly seen, writhing and shifting.

She had been infected while heavily pregnant, and her horrifying appearance was enough to make anyone’s blood run cold.

“So many prey… no way I’m letting that old hag take them all!” Bone-Claw said with a sinister grin.

In the post-apocalyptic city, humans were a rare delicacy. Now that a few had shown up, there was no way the Zombie Kings were going to let the opportunity slip by.

Even among the Zombie Kings, there was competition. Each of them wanted to claim as much of the “feast” as they could.

“Oh?…”

The Pregnant Zombie King let out a chilling, sinister laugh.

“Then how about we play a little game? Let’s see who can catch more prey.”

“Heh, no problem.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, Bone-Claw’s back crackled with a sharp, snapping sound. A pair of skeletal wings unfolded, and with a powerful leap, he shot into the night sky, disappearing into the darkness.

“Huh? In such a rush?” The Pregnant Zombie King didn’t seem bothered. Her eerie gaze swept across the area as she began searching for her own prey.

…

Meanwhile, Margaret was still running for her life. Tears streamed down her face, mixing with the snot dripping from her nose. She was utterly consumed by despair.

The survivors who had been possessed by the cat spirits had finished tearing Edward apart and were now chasing after her.

In the darkness, the four blood-soaked figures closed in. Their faces and bodies were smeared with gore, bits of flesh still stuck under their claws. Their glowing cat-like eyes gleamed with a sinister light, making them even more terrifying than zombies.

The monsters were getting closer and closer. Margaret’s heart pounded with panic, and the overwhelming fear, combined with her rapidly draining stamina, pushed her to the brink of collapse.

“What do I do?!”

Just as she was about to give in to despair, a tall figure appeared in the dim light ahead. The faint glow of the moon illuminated his sharp, chiseled features, making him look strikingly handsome.

His crisp white shirt seemed to shimmer faintly under the moonlight, adding an almost ethereal quality to his presence.

“Am I seeing things?” Margaret shook her head, thinking she must be hallucinating from exhaustion. Even before the apocalypse, she had never seen a man this good-looking.

The man, seemingly oblivious to her plight, muttered to himself:

“Go ahead and hunt your prey. I’ll clean up the mess for you.”

He sounded almost considerate, as if he were doing someone a favor.

The four possessed survivors, however, didn’t care who he was. Their feral instincts took over as they let out sharp, guttural “Meow! Meow!” sounds, their bodies tensing like coiled springs before they lunged at him with terrifying speed.

The man didn’t move. He stood there, calm and composed, his posture straight and unyielding.

As the four figures closed in, a Tachi appeared in his hand, its blade gleaming coldly under the moonlight.

In a single, fluid motion, he swung the blade.

“Swish! Swish!”

The sound of steel slicing through flesh echoed in the night. The blade cut cleanly, and in the blink of an eye, the four heads were severed from their bodies. The decapitated heads hit the ground with dull thuds, rolling a few times before coming to a stop.

The entire scene unfolded in an instant. His movements were graceful, almost like a dance, each strike precise and effortless, as if he were painting strokes on a canvas.

“He’s… that strong?” Margaret’s eyes widened in disbelief. She was completely stunned. These monstrous creatures, which had seemed unstoppable, were dispatched so easily.

Her gaze shifted back to the man’s face. His striking features, combined with his effortless strength, made him seem like a savior descending from the heavens. In that moment, he appeared to be glowing, a beacon of hope in her darkest hour.

“P-please… save me…” Margaret sobbed, her voice trembling as she cried out for help. Her vulnerability and desperation made her look pitiful, like a fragile flower battered by the storm.

The man, however, remained unfazed.

“Oh, sure,” he replied casually.

Then, without hesitation, he raised his blade and swung it toward her.

…