Apocalypse: King of Zombies - Chapter 161

Chapter 161: What the hell?!

The sun rose again, chasing away the night.

The blood-soaked evening was now a thing of the past.

“Hey, Big Ears, I heard you got mind-controlled last night and almost got taken out by the Zombie Siren?” A random zombie called out on the street.

“Lies! That’s slander, I’m telling you!” Big Ears shot back, clearly unwilling to admit anything. “With my skills? No way I’d fall for something like mind control.”

“Then how come you got lured out of the city?”

“I… I was scouting for threats! If it weren’t for me, the whole district would’ve been overrun by parasites. Everyone would’ve been in danger!” Big Ears declared, puffing up his chest.

The surrounding zombies didn’t look convinced. Suspicion was written all over their decaying faces.

“Is that so?”

…

At the heart of the Los Angeles zombie nest.

Bulldozer, Laura, and Little Shadow—three of the territory’s lords—stood outside a crumbling skyscraper, waiting to report last night’s events to Ethan. Their territory had been attacked. While the damage was minimal, they couldn’t just let it slide.

“I’ve already scoped it out. Those zombies were from Santa Monica. I’m asking the boss for permission to wipe them out!” Bulldozer growled, his voice rough and booming.

Laura tilted her head, giving him a once-over. “Santa Monica’s mostly underwater. Can you even swim?”

“Of course I can! Back in the day, they called me the ‘Bayou King!'” Bulldozer thumped his chest proudly.

“Uh…” Laura blinked, her expression faltering. She didn’t recall him ever having that title. The only thing she remembered was the time he got dragged into a river by some water monster and nearly got swept away…

Little Shadow, standing nearby, rasped in a low voice, “I’ll go too.”

“You can swim?” Bulldozer turned to him, skeptical.

“Yeah.” Little Shadow nodded. “They used to call me the ‘Blackfish of the Deep.'”

The three lords bantered back and forth, their conversation echoing in the shadow of the building.

Until, suddenly, a deep voice cut through the air. “None of you are going.”

“Boss!” All three turned their heads sharply. Ethan had appeared out of nowhere, silent as a ghost.

Bulldozer wasted no time. “If we’re not going, then who is?”

“I’ll go,” Ethan said simply.

Bulldozer fell silent, his mouth hanging open.

Santa Monica was a mess. Two-thirds of the city was submerged, and while Bulldozer and the others might be able to swim, their combat effectiveness would plummet in the water. It didn’t make sense to fight on the enemy’s terms.

Besides, the situation in Santa Monica was still unclear. The humans were long gone, leaving behind only zombies and mutated creatures. It wasn’t exactly a welcoming place.

Ethan had decided to handle it himself.

“You three stay here and hold down the fort.”

“Got it, boss. Don’t worry about a thing,” Bulldozer promised, thumping his chest again.

Ethan’s figure flickered, then vanished into thin air.

He planned to cut through Culver City on his way to Santa Monica. There were likely still humans hiding in Culver City, and he wanted to see if any “lucky ones” might cross his path.

Unfortunately, the journey was uneventful. No signs of life. It seemed humanity wasn’t catching any breaks today.

After a long trek, the horizon finally revealed a city straight out of an apocalypse. The air was filled with the guttural groans of zombies and the distant roars of mutated beasts.

This part of Santa Monica hadn’t been swallowed by the sea yet. The skyscrapers were crumbling, the ground was damp, and puddles dotted the streets. Strange, writhing insects squirmed in the water, twisting and rolling over each other—leftovers from the receding tide.

Bones and rotting corpses littered the ground. Thumb-sized flies buzzed in swarms, circling the decay. On the side of the road, a zombie sat hunched over, clutching a dead fish in its hands, tearing into it with feral bites.

Its jaw was smeared with rotting flesh, and the stench was unbearable.

“What a dump…” Ethan muttered under his breath, his eyes scanning the wreckage. The place was a disaster zone. The damp air had encouraged moss and algae to creep over the ruins, giving everything a sickly green hue.

There weren’t many zombies around. The ones that were here wandered aimlessly, their expressions vacant, as if they’d forgotten why they even existed.

Beyond the wandering zombies, the air carried the faint, lurking presence of mutated beasts.

Ethan’s sharp gaze locked onto a zombie staggering aimlessly down the street. Suddenly, from the shadowy, damp ruins of a nearby building, a massive sea serpent lunged out. Its jaws clamped down on the zombie’s torso, and with a violent tug, it dragged the unfortunate creature backward.

“ROAR—”

The zombie let out a guttural howl, thrashing wildly. Its hands clawed desperately at the cracks in the pavement, trying to resist the serpent’s overwhelming pull. But the creature was far too strong. Its jet-black body, as thick as a wine barrel, coiled with raw power. With a flick of its head, the serpent yanked the zombie into the darkness of the building, leaving behind a gruesome trail of blood.

The zombie’s screams faded, replaced by the sickening crunch of bones and the wet, rhythmic sound of swallowing.

Ethan stepped closer, his expression calm as he observed the scene. The building’s wall had partially collapsed, revealing a gaping, pitch-black hole. It was clear this was now the serpent’s lair—a nest carved out by the mutated beast.

Santa Monica was a death trap, every corner hiding its own brand of danger.

Ethan didn’t bother with the sea serpent. It wasn’t the kind of “seafood” he was interested in.

He continued forward, his pace steady. After a short walk, he leapt effortlessly onto the roof of a crumbling ten-story building. His tall, lean figure stood against the backdrop of the ruined city as his eyes swept across the desolate landscape.

From this vantage point, half of Santa Monica stretched out before him. The city, ravaged by the apocalypse and further battered by natural disasters, was a haunting sight. The air was heavy with decay, and the silence was broken only by distant, guttural sounds of the undead and mutated creatures.

Down below, a commotion caught his attention. A street not far away erupted with furious roars and snarls, the air thick with hostility and bloodlust.

Ethan focused his gaze and spotted a group of elite zombies locked in combat with a mutated lobster.

The lobster was massive, nearly the size of a grown man. Its dark, bluish-black shell gleamed like armor, covered in jagged spikes. Its claws were monstrous, resembling industrial shears more than anything natural.

“Well, damn…” Ethan muttered, sizing up the creature. He estimated it weighed at least 220 pounds. It was the biggest “lobster” he’d ever seen.

The elite zombies were clearly after the succulent meat beneath that armored shell. They attacked with a frenzy, throwing themselves at the lobster, their jaws snapping as they tried to tear through its defenses.

But the lobster’s shell was tougher than steel. Even the razor-sharp teeth of the elite zombies couldn’t pierce it. Meanwhile, the lobster’s claws were devastating. With a single snap, it crushed zombie limbs and torsos, leaving mangled corpses in its wake.

The elite zombies, despite their advanced evolution, had enough intelligence to communicate through brainwave signals. Their frustration was palpable.

“Damn it, this thing’s impossible to bite through!”

“Ugh, I think I just broke a tooth!”

“Of course you did—it’s a B-class mutant beast!”

“…”

Despite their relentless assault, the zombies couldn’t make any progress. The tantalizing promise of tender lobster meat remained just out of reach.

“ROAR—”

A sudden, commanding roar echoed from the distance. A towering zombie emerged, its hulking frame radiating power. It was clearly the leader of this group, a B-class zombie that had carved out its territory on the city’s outskirts—a figure akin to someone like Big Ears.

“Step aside, boys! Let me handle this!” the leader bellowed, its voice booming with authority.

The surrounding zombies immediately backed off, clearing a path.

“Boss is here!”

“With the boss’s strength, that lobster’s done for!”

“Yeah, this is in the bag now…”

The leader zombie charged forward, its massive, muscular body moving with surprising speed. Its fists, each the size of a wrecking ball, swung down toward the lobster with the force of a sledgehammer.

But the lobster wasn’t just tough—it was quick. Its beady eyes swiveled, and it sidestepped the attack with surprising agility.

BOOM!

The zombie’s fist slammed into the ground, leaving a spiderweb of cracks in the pavement.

“What the—? It dodged?” The leader zombie growled, momentarily stunned.

Before it could recover, the lobster retaliated. Its mouth opened, and a jet of water shot out with pinpoint accuracy, splashing directly into the zombie leader’s face.

“Pfft! What the hell?!” The zombie sputtered, raising its arms to shield itself.

The lobster, sensing an opportunity, turned and bolted. Its twelve spindly legs moved with astonishing speed, carrying it over 200 feet in mere seconds.

“Don’t let it get away! After it!” the leader roared, wiping its face and pointing in the direction of the fleeing lobster.

The elite zombies howled in unison, their frustration turning into a frenzied determination. They charged after the lobster, their movements wild and chaotic.

The chase led them straight toward Ethan’s position.

…