CHAPTER 698: AM I REALLY OUT OF OPTIONS?

Gunfire roared and echoed through the lab as people unleashed everything they had—bullets, grenades, raw fury. No one could wrap their heads around it: how the hell did a zombie outbreak start in a high-security lab?

Luckily, the zombies weren’t that strong. Wiping them out was just a matter of time.

But then—everything changed.

A sudden, crushing pressure swept through the room like a tidal wave. It hit all at once, thick with a chilling, almost primal dread that made everyone’s heart skip a beat.

"What the hell is that?"

People froze, breath caught in their throats, eyes wide with panic.

The pressure kept building, like an invisible hand tightening its grip around the entire room. A few of the weaker ones couldn’t take it—their bones cracked and shattered under the force. They dropped to the ground without even a scream, lifeless.

And then, through the chaos, Ethan stepped forward.

"Zombie King?" someone whispered.

The captain of the City Guard spotted him first. No hesitation—he yanked a metal baton from his belt. With a flick, a blade of pure energy extended from it, glowing hot.

Without a word, he charged straight at Ethan, lightsaber raised.

He didn’t stop to think. The moment he saw Ethan, instinct took over—attack first, ask questions never.

But before his blade could even come down, Ethan’s katana flashed.

Too fast to dodge.

Shhhk—

The captain’s head flew clean off. His body crumpled to the floor, twitching.

The rest of the squad froze in horror. Eyes wide, they scrambled to aim their crystal-core firearms, fingers tightening on the triggers.

But Ethan was already on them.

He moved like a shadow—one moment gone, the next right beside them. His katana danced through the air, slicing through flesh and armor alike. A few tried to run, but the moment they stepped into the Domain of the Dead, they were crushed—bones snapping, bodies collapsing.

Dozens of guards, wiped out in seconds.

Then came the swarm.

Zombies poured out of the elevator shaft, clawing their way up and flooding the corridor. They sprinted toward the surface, screeching, snarling, driven by madness.

These low-level undead weren’t meant to kill. They were cannon fodder—meant to draw fire, sow chaos, and overwhelm defenses.

...

Meanwhile, the city above was already spiraling into chaos.

Fires burned in several buildings, smoke curling into the sky. Zombies ran wild through the streets—but they didn’t last long. Drones hovered overhead, firing pinpoint laser shots that blew holes straight through their skulls.

Within moments, enforcement teams moved in, sweeping the area and clearing the bodies before the virus could spread any further.

They were fast, efficient, and ruthless.

A few vials of zombie virus weren’t enough to bring down the city. At worst, it was a nasty distraction.

Howard Hawke, the head of the powerful Hawke family, had already received word of the zombie outbreak—and that his own lab had fallen. That alone told him this wasn’t some random accident.

"Lock down the entire district. Shut down all transportation. I want every single person checked—no exceptions," Howard growled, his voice low and cold, like a storm about to break.

The pressure radiating off him was suffocating, impossible to ignore.

It was the kind of oppressive force only an SSS-rank could emit.

"Yes, sir!" his subordinates snapped to attention and rushed to carry out his orders.

Moments later, another man burst into the room, breathless.

"Sir! We’ve finished reviewing all surveillance footage. We’ve identified someone—he’s the one who released the virus!"

"Who? Show me," Howard demanded, stepping forward.

The man quickly brought over a portable terminal and pulled up several images.

It was Ricky—caught on camera at multiple outbreak sites.

"This little bastard... has he lost his mind?" Howard clenched his fists, barely holding back his fury. But even as he spoke, he knew—Ricky wasn’t the mastermind. There was someone else pulling the strings.

The subordinate continued, "Before the outbreak in our lab, Young Master Trent went in—with Dorian and a few other heirs from the major families."

"What?" Howard’s heart sank like a stone.

"Where’s Trent now?"

"I... I’m not sure," the man stammered, clearly nervous.

Howard’s temper flared, a surge of heat rushing to his head. He started pacing, agitated, like a caged animal.

"My idiot son might be reckless, sure, but he’d never do something this insane. There’s no way he released the virus himself..."

Just then, another man—middle-aged, with a strong resemblance to Howard—rushed in.

"Brother! I just heard from Dorian’s servant. Apparently, he and some classmates were throwing a party, playing some kind of thrill-seeking game... and then, suddenly, everyone in the house vanished. Dorian’s missing. You don’t think something happened to him, do you?"

Howard froze mid-step. His brow furrowed deeply, and a terrible suspicion began to form in his mind.

If someone dug a little deeper, they’d find that Ricky and Dorian had serious bad blood between them.

And that was all Howard needed to connect the dots.

This whole thing—it started with Dorian. And it wasn’t just some accident. It was a setup. A massive, calculated conspiracy.

"If I’m right... then a Zombie King has entered the city."

"What?!"

The room fell silent. His subordinates stared at him, stunned.

A Zombie King? That serious?

Howard’s expression darkened. Not only was his own son involved, but so were the heirs of other major families—and they were all tangled up with this Zombie King.

God knows what that creature might do to them. But odds were, they were already dead... or worse.

A Zombie King with powers like that? There’s no way it had good intentions.

"He was after the lab. That means he’s probably still near the entrance," Howard said, voice sharp with urgency. "Mobilize everyone. I want that Zombie King found—no matter what it takes. And put the entire city on Level One combat alert!"

"Yes, sir!"

The response was immediate and thunderous. Everyone knew this was no ordinary crisis. No one dared waste a second.

The Hawke family was in charge of Inner City security, which meant they had access to a massive arsenal of resources.

The city plunged into chaos.

Drones and aircraft swarmed the skies like angry hornets, sweeping low and scanning every inch of the streets. Enforcement squads and City Guard units deployed en masse, locking down neighborhoods and setting up checkpoints.

Meanwhile, Ricky was holed up in a dark alley, a baseball cap pulled low over his face. He tugged the brim down further, trying to stay hidden.

He could feel it—things had spiraled way out of control.

The sky buzzed with drones, sweeping in tight formation, scanning everything. City Guards patrolled the streets in squads, rifles at the ready.

At this point, his only shot was to escape the Inner City and make it to the Exile Zone. Maybe—just maybe—he’d have a chance out there.

But with all transportation shut down, airspace locked down, and even the Skywall sealed tight, that plan was looking more impossible by the second.

"Am I really out of options?" Ricky muttered, glancing around. He spotted a few residential buildings nearby.

Maybe... take hostages?

He shook his head. No good. The City Guard wouldn’t hesitate to shoot through civilians if it meant taking him down. They didn’t play by the rules.

As he weighed his options, a voice suddenly rang out from the street.

"Hey! Who’s hiding over there? Step out now for inspection!"

"Shit," Ricky hissed, his body tensing.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw two guards approaching fast, weapons drawn.

...