Apocalypse: King of Zombies-Chapter 685: He’s been hiding his true power…

Just then, the middle-aged man came rushing back.

He locked eyes on Ethan and Ricky, slapped a red button on the wall, and instantly, a shrill alarm blared through the spacious warehouse.

"Whoa—what the hell?!" Ricky jumped, spinning around in confusion.

But before he could make sense of it, a group of human Awakeners stormed in from outside, faces twisted with aggression, their presence overwhelming. 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖

The middle-aged man pointed straight at them.

"It’s them! They’re trying to steal from the warehouse!"

The group surged forward, surrounding Ethan and Ricky in a tight circle.

Ricky looked around, completely dumbfounded. "Wait, what? When did we ever try to steal anything?!"

"Save it. I can see it in your eyes—you were thinking about it," the man sneered, clearly just making up an excuse to start a fight.

Ricky’s face twisted in disbelief as the pieces clicked into place. "You’re framing us on purpose!"

The man didn’t even bother denying it. "Damn right I am. I’ve got my eye on those crystal cores you’re carrying. If you wanna blame someone, blame yourselves for being too weak."

The thugs around them—some of them S-rank Awakeners—were already licking their lips, their auras flaring with power, ready to pounce.

Ricky stumbled back a few steps, his face going pale. In that moment of panic, the first thing that flashed through his mind was his girlfriend—he hadn’t even made it to the Inner City to find her yet. He couldn’t die here. "Captain, what do we do?"

Ethan, on the other hand, looked completely unfazed. To him, this was nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

Funny enough, the middle-aged guy had accidentally guessed exactly what Ethan had in mind.

"You’re right," Ethan said calmly. "I am here to steal. Good eye."

"...What?" The entire room froze.

Especially Ricky—he looked like he’d just been slapped. Did he hear that right?

Captain Dane was actually admitting to robbery?

What kind of plan was this?

The middle-aged man and his goons exchanged confused glances, clearly thrown off by Ethan’s unexpected response.

The man let out a disbelieving laugh. "What the hell are you talking about? You lose your mind or something?"

"I’m dead serious," Ethan replied. "And I’m not just here to steal—I’m going to kill every last one of you and take your crystal cores."

The man’s face twisted with rage. "You cocky little—kill him! Now!"

The thugs didn’t hesitate. Their expressions turned vicious as energy surged around them, and they charged in.

They wanted those crystal cores fast—no time to waste.

One of them, an ice-type Awakener, stepped forward. A chill spread from his body as he formed twin ice spears in his hands, sharp as lances, and lunged straight at Ethan.

The spears cut through the air with deadly precision, aimed right for Ethan’s throat—one clean strike to end it.

But just as he closed in, his body suddenly froze mid-motion—like someone had hit pause on reality itself.

Ethan strolled toward him, calm and unhurried, like he was out for a walk. When he reached the frozen attacker, a katana materialized in his hand.

With a casual flick of his wrist, he sliced the man’s head clean off.

The whole thing was smooth, effortless.

"Too weak," Ethan muttered to himself.

The severed head hit the ground with a dull thud, rolling to a stop at Ethan’s feet. The man’s eyes were still wide open, frozen in terror, staring blankly at the ceiling.

The middle-aged man’s face twisted in shock. He hadn’t expected this. He thought they’d take Ethan down easily—but they’d already lost a man in the opening move.

What the hell just happened?

Even Ricky was stunned. He hadn’t even seen how Ethan did it. But... damn, it looked badass.

Another attacker, this one a speed-type Awakener, darted in like a blur. He moved like an assassin, dagger in hand, aiming for Ethan’s neck with a deadly strike.

But Ethan simply shifted his body slightly, dodging with ease. As they passed each other, Ethan reached out with one hand and drove his fingers straight into the man’s skull.

A crystal core popped out between Ethan’s fingers.

The speed-type’s body crumpled to the ground, momentum carrying it forward until it slid to a stop. He didn’t make a sound—just lay there, still and peaceful, like he’d never even been alive.

"This isn’t right..." The middle-aged man’s brows furrowed. His initial shock had morphed into full-blown terror. After years of running in the Black Market, he’d developed a sharp eye—and what he was seeing now chilled him to the bone.

Anyone who could take out two of his men in an instant, and in such a bizarre way, was definitely not just S-rank.

"He’s been hiding his true power..."

As the thought crossed his mind, he watched in horror as Ethan calmly reached into another thug’s skull, pulling out a crystal core like he was picking fruit. The man’s body dropped to the floor, intact but lifeless.

Then, with a smooth, practiced motion, Ethan raised his katana. A faint pulse of his Domain of the Dead rippled out as he moved, and in a blur, he sliced through the necks of several more attackers. It was clean, efficient—like he’d done it a thousand times before.

These small fries weren’t even worth breaking a sweat over.

With every swing of his blade, another body hit the ground. The warehouse floor was quickly filling with corpses.

Of the dozen or so thugs who’d charged in, only a few were still standing.

The middle-aged man’s face twisted in sheer panic.

"Run! Get the hell out of here! We’re no match for him!"

"Y-Yeah!"

The remaining men nodded frantically, already pale from watching their comrades drop like flies. They turned to flee, but it was too late.

Ethan’s Domain of the Dead descended on them like a suffocating fog.

Their bodies froze mid-motion, locked in place as if time itself had stopped. The air grew heavy with the stench of death, and the fear was so thick it choked the breath from their lungs.

"W-Wait! Don’t kill me! We can talk, okay? I’m sure we can work something out!" the middle-aged man stammered, his voice cracking as he instinctively begged for his life.

Ethan didn’t even blink.

With one clean stroke, he lopped off the man’s head. The body crumpled to the floor, blood pooling beneath it.

The rest of the thugs didn’t last much longer. Ethan dispatched them with casual ease—three moves, maybe four. No effort, no mercy.

And just like that, the warehouse fell silent.

Everyone was dead.

Except Ethan and Ricky.

Bodies lay scattered across the floor, limbs twisted, blood soaking into the concrete. The metallic tang of it hung thick in the air.

Ricky stood frozen, staring at the carnage. Ethan—still wearing the illusion of Captain Dane—stood tall among the corpses, his katana dripping red.

Ricky’s eyes were wide with disbelief, his voice barely a whisper. "They’re... all dead?"

But then, as the shock wore off, a wave of relief washed over him. He was still alive. Somehow. He turned to Ethan, awe written all over his face.

"Captain Dane... I didn’t know you were this strong."

Ethan shrugged, his tone casual. "I haven’t killed anyone in days."

The last time he’d taken a human life was when he wiped out that four-man mercenary team.

Ricky blinked, confused. "C-Captain... what do you mean by that?"

"Nothing," Ethan replied offhandedly. There was no point explaining—Ricky wouldn’t understand anyway.

Just then, a soft beep-beep-beep came from the waist of the middle-aged man’s headless corpse.

Ethan walked over, nudged the body with his katana, and caught the device as it slipped free. He turned it over in his hand, examining it.

It looked like a phone—similar to the ones on Earth—but sleeker, more advanced, packed with extra features.

"Not a bad little gadget..." he muttered.

Then, without hesitation, he answered the call.

...