CHAPTER 697: DID THE ELEVATOR BREAK?

"Wh-What the hell is that...?"

The group froze, eyes locked on the strange vials in Ethan’s hands. A creeping sense of dread slithered into their chests.

Trent’s brows furrowed tightly. "Dorian... what are you holding? What the hell are you trying to do?"

Ethan’s voice was cold, detached. "Instead of wasting your time building weapons, maybe you should start researching how to turn zombies back into humans."

The young men standing before him were all firstborn heirs of the city’s most powerful families. He wondered—once they turned, would their elite parents choose to put them down... or try to save them?

"You... you’re not Dorian at all!" Trent’s eyes widened in realization. The tone, the posture—it all clicked.

But it was already too late.

Ethan hurled the vials with deadly precision. They shattered against their faces, splashing crimson liquid everywhere. The thick, red virus seeped into their eyes, their noses—invading their bodies in seconds.

"This... this is the zombie virus!" one of them screamed in horror.

The others panicked, clawing at their faces, trying to wipe it off—some even looked like they were about to tear their own skin off in desperation.

But it was useless.

Their hearts began to race. Breathing turned ragged. Veins bulged across their faces like writhing snakes. Their bodies jerked uncontrollably.

The world around them bled red.

A crushing wave of despair washed over them.

And just before they lost consciousness, they saw Ethan’s appearance shift—his features sharpening, becoming strikingly handsome, his expression unreadable. That cold, piercing gaze. The crisp white shirt.

"He’s... the Zombie King..."

In that final moment of clarity, they understood everything.

The Zombie King had infiltrated the lab in disguise. And now, the real experiment was beginning.

"GRAAAHH—!"

A chorus of savage howls erupted as the infected heirs transformed. Their minds shattered, leaving only primal hunger and bloodlust.

Driven by an overwhelming need to feed, they turned their eyes toward the nearby researchers—and charged.

"MONSTERS! They’re turning!"

"Zombies! We’ve got a breach!"

"Sound the alarm! Now!"

Panic exploded through the lab. Scientists screamed, some drawing weapons and opening fire.

But the newly turned zombies were still weak—freshly infected, their strength hadn’t peaked yet. Even untrained personnel could take them down with a few well-placed shots.

Ethan watched the chaos unfold, muttering to himself, "These spoiled brats... might need a little help."

With a flick of his wrist, he drew his katana and slashed through the wall’s power conduit.

CRACK! Sparks flew.

The lights went out.

The entire lab was plunged into darkness. Only a few backup-powered machines flickered dimly in the gloom.

Perfect.

Ethan waved his hand, and those machines vanished—sucked into his spatial storage ring. They were part of his haul, after all.

The lab descended into pitch-black silence, broken only by the guttural snarls of the undead and the bloodcurdling screams of the living.

The air grew thick with the stench of blood and death.

The slaughter had begun.

Ethan could feel it—more and more hunger signals lighting up around him. The number of human life signs was dropping fast.

Whenever he came across guards trying to fight back, or Awakeners hiding in the shadows, he stepped in—either to eliminate them or to let the zombies finish the job.

Meanwhile, he continued collecting everything of value.

Guard Mechs. Cybernetic limbs. Experimental bionic weapons. The lab was a treasure trove of cutting-edge tech—strange, deadly, and now his for the taking.

In the pitch-black depths of the lab, the air was thick with the stench of blood and death. Zombies still howled in the dark, their guttural roars echoing off the walls. Human screams had grown fewer—quieter—until they faded altogether.

Ethan strolled through the carnage like he was taking a casual walk in the park, completely unfazed. His steps were calm, deliberate, as he moved from room to room, collecting everything he wanted with surgical precision.

In the heart of the lab, he found a reinforced vault.

No need for finesse.

With a single, brutal strike, he tore the door off its hinges. Inside were stacks of paper documents—years of research, data, and classified experiments. The culmination of countless sleepless nights and billions in funding.

Ethan didn’t hesitate. He swept it all into his spatial storage ring.

And that wasn’t all.

Lining the shelves were dozens of crystal cores, the lab’s primary energy source for experiments and weapon testing.

"Not bad at all..." Ethan murmured, clearly pleased.

By the time he was done, the entire lab had been stripped bare. Instruments, materials, prototype weapons—anything remotely useful was gone. What had once been a bustling, high-tech facility now looked like an abandoned warehouse.

And the slaughter?

Over.

Every human in the lab had been infected. The place was now crawling with the undead—hundreds of them, standing eerily still in the dark, waiting.

Ethan turned to them and gave a simple command: "Time to move out."

But he left a few behind—specifically, Trent and the other rich heirs. A little "gift" for their families. A message wrapped in blood and teeth.

...

Above the lab, in the access corridor, a squad of guards stood at their posts. They’d started to notice something was off.

The power was out.

The elevator had stopped working.

"What’s going on?"

"Did the elevator break?"

"No idea. It was working fine earlier..."

The guards exchanged uneasy glances. Something didn’t add up. The lab below was full of scientists and engineers—there was no reason for a sudden power failure.

"Wait a second..."

The City Guard Captain, an S-rank Awakener, narrowed his eyes. He stepped forward and pressed his ear to the elevator shaft.

From deep below, he heard it—low, guttural snarls. Dozens of them. Maybe hundreds.

The sound was savage. Inhuman. Like something clawing its way out of hell.

His face went pale.

"We’ve got a breach," he said, backing away quickly. "Zombies. Below us."

"What?!"

The guards were stunned, frozen for a moment in disbelief.

But then the panic hit.

They scrambled for their comms, shouting into them, calling for backup from every available unit—including Pinnacle Academy, which was located just above them.

"Rrrrraaaaagh—!"

The snarls were getting louder. Closer.

The Captain snapped into action. "Hold your ground! Form a perimeter and get ready to fire!"

"Yes, sir!"

The guards spread out, forming a semi-circle around the elevator. Dozens of weapons were raised, all aimed at the doors.

The air was thick with tension. No one dared breathe.

The snarls grew louder. Then came the sound of claws scraping metal—bodies climbing, shoving, fighting to reach the top.

"They’re coming," the Captain muttered.

And then—

CRACK!

Bloodstained hands burst through the elevator door’s seams, clawing and tearing.

"GRAAAHH—!"

Dozens of twisted, rotting faces appeared, eyes glowing with hunger. They shoved and trampled over each other, pouring out of the shaft like a flood of nightmares.

"OPEN FIRE!"

The Captain’s voice rang out like a gunshot.

The guards didn’t hesitate. Dozens of Crystal Core Firearms lit up the corridor, unleashing a storm of energy blasts.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Explosions rocked the hallway. The elevator doors were obliterated, torn apart by the sheer force of the blasts.

The zombies didn’t stand a chance.

Their bodies were vaporized on impact—flesh and bone disintegrating into nothing. The energy weapons tore through them like paper, leaving behind only scorched metal and the stench of cooked meat.

Wave after wave of the undead were shredded before they could even reach the guards.

"Die, you freaks! Burn in hell!"

...