Apocalypse: King of Zombies - Chapter 312
Chapter 312: Totally reasonable
“Sure, but I’d like to check out your shelter first,” the girl continued.
“No problem! If you don’t like it, you can leave anytime ( >‿◠),” the voice on the other end responded immediately.
On the surface, the offer seemed pretty good—plenty of food and water, no restrictions on movement. It was tempting, to say the least.
“They’ve agreed. They’ll send someone to meet us,” the girl said.
Ethan nodded, satisfied.
“Alright then, let’s go check it out.”
“Okay,” the others replied in unison.
Chris, Brandon, and Sean, along with the supplies they’d looted from the Black Hand Legion, packed up their bags, feeling pretty damn pleased with themselves.
This was way better than farming in some shelter. Plus, it was a hell of a lot easier.
With Ethan leading the way, cutting down anything in their path, their stash of supplies would only keep growing.
“We’re set, man. We’re really set,” Chris couldn’t help but marvel. Life had never been this good before…
The group set off toward Blackhand City, passing through stretches of wilderness, abandoned villages, and crumbling towns.
Fields lay barren, houses had collapsed, tangled in thick spiderwebs, some reduced to nothing but rubble.
It had been seven months since the world fell apart. With no one left to maintain them, buildings had decayed into ruins.
Out in the open, they occasionally spotted a few zombies—mindless, slow-moving things, shambling aimlessly. Low-level threats, nothing to worry about.
Before long, they came across a gravel road, freshly laid, with tire tracks still visible.
According to the four from the shelter, following this road would lead them straight to Blackhand City.
Ethan scanned the area, noting that the Black Hand Legion seemed to be taking their city-building efforts seriously. After drifting from place to place for so long, they’d finally found a place to settle.
On either side of the road, abandoned vehicles were scattered about, stripped clean of anything useful.
Not long after, they encountered a barricade—rows of sharpened wooden stakes, some stained with dried blood.
Just beyond it, a pile of blackened remains smoldered, the charred bones barely visible beneath the ash. Clearly, this was where they burned the dead.
Ethan caught the scent of humans before he saw them.
A group of men emerged from behind the barricade, armed with melee weapons, their builds solid, their expressions wary as they sized up the newcomers.
These were the Black Hand Legion’s welcoming committee.
“You must be Miss Leah?” The leader, a bald brute, stepped forward, forcing a smile in an attempt to appear friendly.
But no matter how much he tried to mask it, his eyes carried the cold indifference of a man who had long since stopped valuing human life.
The girl hesitated before answering timidly, “Yes, that’s me.”
“Well then, welcome to the shelter, my delicate little princess,” the bald man said with a grin.
“Uh…” Leah stiffened. She knew exactly what kind of people they were—monsters wearing human skin. But for now, she had to play along.
“You… you’re really going to give us food? You’re not just tricking us, right?”
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“Of course not! We treat everyone with honesty and sincerity. Why would we lie?” the man assured her, nodding enthusiastically.
At the same time, his gaze swept over the group—Sean, Chris, and the injured young man.
A bunch of weaklings… plus a few delicate-looking women.
Ethan, meanwhile, was sizing up the bald man. His strength was only B+—weaker than the raiders they’d encountered earlier.
Made sense. This squad was just here to escort people in, not to fight. They weren’t worth much.
“This takeout’s low quality… not very nutritious,” Ethan mused to himself. He figured he might as well play along and see what Blackhand City had to offer. He’d heard rumors about a breeding farm—he was curious to see what that was all about.
“Alright, let’s head in. I’m starving.”
“Oh, sure, haha…” The bald man chuckled, barely containing his excitement.
They were walking right into the trap.
…
Lately, people had grown more cautious. Everyone knew by now that the Black Hand Legion was full of liars, so their “business” had taken a nosedive—almost no one willingly walked into their trap anymore.
But somehow, these idiots had.
The bald brute muttered to himself, wondering how the hell this group had managed to survive seven months in the apocalypse.
“Follow us,” he said, signaling his men to move the spiked barricades aside, clearing a path.
Then, leading Ethan and the others, he guided them into the city.
As they entered Blackhand City, the presence of humans became more noticeable. The streets were lined with buildings, many of which showed signs of recent repairs.
However, some of the larger iron gates were chained shut, locked up tight—like prison cells.
Black Hand Legion members stood guard outside, armed to the teeth, their watchful eyes scanning the area. Security was tight.
From behind those locked gates, agonized screams occasionally rang out—raw, desperate, filled with unbearable suffering. The kind of screams that made your skin crawl.
Ethan asked casually, “What’s going on in there?”
“Oh, nothing much,” the bald man replied with a forced chuckle. “We get injured a lot when we go out on missions. You know how it is—sometimes the pain gets so bad, people scream a little. That’s normal, right?”
“Makes sense,” Ethan nodded, as if he completely agreed.
But behind him, Leah and the others knew better.
Those weren’t the screams of wounded soldiers. Those were the cries of people being tortured—helpless victims suffering unspeakable horrors.
This was the infamous city of sin.
As they passed another building, a new sound reached their ears—this time, frantic cries for help.
“Help! Please! Somebody, help me!” The voice was muffled, choked with sobs.
Ethan tilted his head slightly, listening.
“What’s that noise?” he asked.
“Uh… well, you see,” the bald man hesitated before forcing another excuse. “When we go out, we sometimes get hit by the Zombie King’s psychic attacks. Leaves some of us with… lingering trauma. So, you know, sometimes they scream. That’s normal too, right?”
“Totally reasonable,” Ethan nodded again.
But as they walked, the guards stationed along the way eyed them with something far more sinister than mere suspicion.
Their gazes weren’t those of people looking at fellow survivors.
They were looking at merchandise.
Some of the guards even exchanged glances with the bald man, smirking cruelly, as if silently congratulating him on today’s haul.
The bald man nodded back at them, acknowledging their silent approval.
Eventually, they arrived at a gated compound, heavily guarded like the rest of the city.
“This is where you’ll be staying. Go on in,” the bald man said.
Ethan’s sharp hearing picked up more screams from inside.
“This place… does it have that breeding farm you mentioned?” he asked.
“Oh, yeah. Of course,” the bald man replied quickly, a sly grin creeping onto his face.
“Go on in and see for yourself.”
…
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