CHAPTER 696: OH MY GOD! A ZOMBIE!

Right now, Ricky was holed up in a five-star hotel, scarfing down food like a starving man.

The table in front of him was piled high with gourmet dishes—stuff he’d never even seen before, let alone tasted.

"Holy shit... this is amazing," he muttered under his breath, shoveling another mouthful in.

He grabbed a handful of fresh fruits and vegetables, stuffing them into his mouth. The taste was crisp, sweet, and unbelievably fresh.

As he chewed, a single tear slipped down his cheek.

It was only now that he realized—fruits and vegetables weren’t supposed to taste sour. That bitterness he’d grown used to while digging through trash wasn’t natural. It was rot. Decay.

And back then, he’d actually felt proud of himself for surviving like that.

Pathetic.

Absolutely fucking pathetic.

A wave of self-loathing surged through him. He suddenly felt like his entire past was a cruel joke. The bitterness he’d buried deep inside started bubbling back up.

Other guests in the restaurant glanced over now and then, puzzled by the sight of a teenage boy sitting alone at a table overflowing with food—eating like a man possessed, sometimes laughing, sometimes crying. It was bizarre.

But Ricky didn’t give a damn about their stares. He kept eating like it was his last meal—because, honestly, it might be.

What he was about to do next... was dangerous as hell. He’d already accepted the possibility he wouldn’t make it out alive.

So yeah, this was his last supper.

A few minutes later, the comm device on his belt buzzed softly.

Ricky froze mid-bite, then calmly set down his knife and fork.

He picked up a white cloth napkin and dabbed at his mouth with surprising grace.

"The real feast’s about to begin," he murmured.

He stood up slowly, pretending to head for the restroom—but instead slipped quietly into the hotel’s kitchen.

From his pocket, he pulled out a vial of zombie virus and poured it straight into the water supply.

Then, like nothing had happened, he walked out.

He even stopped by the front desk to settle his bill before leaving.

One location wasn’t enough. He knew that. So he headed to other crowded places—shopping malls, movie theaters, train stations—anywhere packed with people. At each stop, he released more of the virus Ethan had given him.

But the first outbreak started right back at the hotel.

A sharply dressed businessman, after eating a meal prepared in the now-contaminated kitchen, suddenly slumped over and collapsed to the floor.

"Huh? What’s wrong with him?" someone nearby asked, confused.

"He didn’t even drink that much. Why’d he pass out?"

"Maybe he’s sick?"

"I don’t know, but we should call a doctor—fast."

People gathered around, murmuring in concern. But then they noticed something strange—the man’s body started convulsing. His eyes rolled back, and the veins around them bulged grotesquely.

"Wait... something’s not right," someone said, their voice tight with unease.

Then—

"GRAAAHH—!"

The man’s eyes snapped open. His pupils had shrunk to pinpricks, and his face twisted into something monstrous.

He lunged at the nearest person, wrapped his arms around their neck, and sank his teeth deep into their flesh.

"AAAAHHH!!!"

A bloodcurdling scream tore through the restaurant.

Blood gushed from the wound, soaking the victim’s clothes in seconds.

"Oh my God! A zombie! He’s turning into a fucking zombie! Run!"

Panic exploded. People screamed and bolted in every direction.

But it was already too late for some. A few others staggered, dizzy, and collapsed—because they’d eaten the same tainted food.

And this wasn’t just happening in the dining area. All over the hotel, chaos erupted. Upstairs, in the guest rooms, people were showering or washing their faces—unknowingly coming into contact with the infected water.

The entire hotel descended into madness.

A wave of terrified people came pouring out of the hotel’s front entrance, screaming as they flooded into the street.

BANG! BANG!

The sudden chaos caused a chain reaction of car crashes—metal crunching, glass shattering.

"What the hell?! Are these people insane? Running around like that—do they have a death wish?" one furious driver shouted, slamming his horn and cursing as he tried to make sense of the madness.

THUD!

Another loud crash—something heavy slammed onto the roof of his car, denting it in with a sickening crunch.

"What the...?"

The driver blinked in confusion, staring up through the windshield—just in time to see a blood-soaked face slowly crawling down from the roof.

"Holy SHIT!"

His eyes went wide with horror. Without thinking, he floored the gas pedal, tires screeching as he tore away from the scene.

As his car sped off, more zombies came crashing down—thud, thud, thud—falling from the upper floors of the hotel, smashing through windows and leaping out like rabid animals.

They hit the pavement hard, bones cracking, but still got up—groaning, snarling, eyes glowing with hunger as they scanned for fresh meat.

Every place Ricky had visited was now erupting into chaos. One after another, zombie outbreaks exploded across the city.

"HAHAHAHAHA!"

Ricky walked down the middle of the street, laughing like a man possessed.

Panicked pedestrians screamed and scattered around him, sprinting away in all directions. Some weren’t fast enough—zombies tackled them to the ground, tearing into flesh with savage bites.

As one man was ripped apart, his final moments filled with rage and terror, Ricky felt that energy surge into him—his body absorbing the dying man’s fury like fuel.

But the chaos didn’t go unnoticed for long.

Suddenly, a shrill alarm blared through the air, echoing across the city.

Dozens of sleek aircraft streaked overhead, engines roaring. On the ground, squads of armored enforcers arrived in formation, wielding high-tech Crystal Core Firearms, opening fire on the infected without hesitation.

"Reporting in! We’ve got a full-blown zombie outbreak in the city!"

"What?! Are you serious?"

"Yes, sir. It’s not just the shopping district—it started at the Imperial Crown Hotel too," one of the enforcers barked into his comms, eyes scanning the chaos.

The command came back fast and sharp: "Lock down all outbreak zones. Eliminate the infected. Find out how the hell this started."

"Copy that!" the enforcers responded in unison, already moving with practiced precision.

It was clear they’d trained for this. Their response was fast, coordinated—this wasn’t their first rodeo.

Meanwhile, deep inside a classified lab, Ethan was still at work.

He and a group of Inner City elites were touring the Guard Mech production facility, watching the assembly process unfold. Inside one of the massive warehouses, rows upon rows of parts and materials were neatly organized.

To save space, the mechs weren’t stored fully assembled. Instead, they were broken down into components, ready to be put together at a moment’s notice.

Ethan did a quick mental count—there had to be at least a thousand mechs stored here.

"Incredible... this is next-level tech," one of the young heirs from another family said, giving a low whistle. "No wonder these things are the backbone of Inner City’s defense."

"Heh, of course," Trent said smugly, puffing out his chest. "That’s why, as long as the Hawke family’s around, security’s never a problem."

But just then, a guard came sprinting into the room, panic written all over his face.

"Bad news, Young Master Trent! Multiple zombie outbreaks have been reported near the lab!"

"What?!" Trent’s face went pale.

He’d just finished bragging about how safe the Inner City was—and now this?

The city had been peaceful for years. Security was airtight. Every shipment that came in was scanned and inspected. So how the hell had a zombie outbreak gotten through?

"This doesn’t make any sense..." Trent muttered, clearly rattled.

The others looked just as shaken, brows furrowed, unease creeping in.

"Yeah... where the hell did the virus come from?"

"I know," Ethan said suddenly, his voice calm.

He could feel it—waves of hunger and bloodlust radiating from the infected zones. Even the Pinnacle Academy above had been alerted; people were already evacuating.

Without another word, Ethan reached into his coat and pulled out two more vials.

The liquid inside swirled with a dark, blood-red hue, glowing faintly with an eerie, unnatural light...

...