Chapter 478: Amphibious troops

Gatorax was getting nervous. These zombies didn’t look like pushovers—but thankfully, there weren’t too many of them. With his massive Zombie Horde backing him up, he wasn’t too worried.

He’d come a long way—crossing mountains and rivers just to hunt down some humans. No way he was turning back now.

“I’m here to kill humans. This has nothing to do with you guys. Step aside!” he barked.

“Oh really? You come into our territory chasing humans, and you think it’s got nothing to do with us?” Mist and the other zombies clearly weren’t buying it.

Big Ears tilted his head, thinking for a moment. “You know what? You’ve got potential, kid. I’ll give you a way out—how about you become my underling? I’ll take care of you.”

“Bullshit! I’d rather die than serve under you!” Gatorax snapped, his voice sharp with defiance. The idea disgusted him.

Big Ears raised an eyebrow. “Careful with your words. I’ll give you one more chance to rephrase that.”

“I don’t need your damn chances. If you won’t move, don’t blame me for what happens next. Boys! Break through them!” Gatorax roared.

Behind him, the horde erupted in a deafening chorus of snarls and howls. A few massive crocodile-like monsters, each over twenty feet long, surged forward like living bulldozers, charging straight into the black mist ahead.

But then—everything changed.

A crushing pressure rolled out from the black fog, like a tidal wave of blood and death. The already-ruined street cracked and collapsed under the weight of it. Buildings on either side crumbled into dust, disintegrating into the air.

The scene was apocalyptic.

The charging crocodile beasts were instantly caught in the wave. Their huge bodies froze mid-motion, bones cracking like dry twigs, flesh exploding in bursts of gore.

Blood sprayed everywhere, painting the world in filth. It looked like a slaughterhouse in hell.

But the Domain of the Dead didn’t stop there.

Gatorax felt it hit him like a freight train. His body buckled under the pressure, dragged into the same crushing force. The zombies around him started convulsing, bones snapping audibly. The weaker ones collapsed outright, twitching on the ground.

“B-Boss… I can’t take it anymore!” one of his underlings cried out, face twisted in agony, body contorted unnaturally.

Gatorax, a fusion-type Zombie King built for brute strength, could barely hold on. His body was tough, but this pressure—it was beyond anything he’d ever felt.

“What… what the hell is this?”

“Ah… a new flavor,” came a cold, detached voice from within the mist.

A figure stepped out—Ethan, dressed in a crisp white shirt, calm as ever.

Gatorax’s eyes widened in horror. The moment he saw him, he felt it—that overwhelming, suffocating presence. This was a true king. A predator. His very soul trembled.

“D-Don’t kill me!” Gatorax stammered. He knew—if he so much as twitched, he’d be dead in the next second.

Ethan glanced at him, mildly curious. “Where’d you come from?”

“Th-The swamp… the protected zone,” Gatorax stuttered.

“Protected species, huh?” Ethan muttered, half to himself. This guy might be a fusion-type Zombie King, but he wasn’t anything special. Just a brute. Honestly, Ethan could kill him with a flick of his wrist.

Gatorax saw the casual look in Ethan’s eyes and felt a chill run down his spine. This guy could end him without even trying.

“No! Please! I’ll serve you! I swear—I’ll be loyal!”

“Oh?” Ethan raised an eyebrow, but didn’t stop walking. The killing intent around him didn’t fade in the slightest.

Gatorax’s heart sank.

Big Ears muttered under his breath, “Tch. I gave you a chance earlier, but nooo, you had to act tough. Now look what you’ve done—got the boss involved.”

Still, he remembered what Gatorax had said when they first met. The guy wasn’t completely hopeless. Maybe he could be salvaged.

“Boss,” Big Ears called out, “I think he’s serious. Why not take him in?”

Ethan paused, considering it. Then he frowned. “He’s filthy.”

“Uh… well…” Even Big Ears, usually quick with words, was at a loss.

Gatorax and his crew had come from the swamp, and after chasing humans for miles, they were caked in dried mud and grime. The stuff had hardened into gray clumps all over their bodies. Honestly, they looked disgusting.

Gatorax’s jaw dropped. That’s why he wanted to kill him?

Because he was dirty?

“Boss, how about we just let him take a bath?” Big Ears pleaded, trying his best to sound convincing. “We’ll make him wash up every day—I’ll keep an eye on him!”

Then he quickly turned to Gatorax. “Hey! Little croc, you like taking baths or what?”

“Y-Yeah, yeah!” Gatorax nodded so fast it looked like his head was on a spring. “I love baths! Love ’em! Nothing better than a good scrub!”

Ethan gave a lazy shrug. “Alright, fine. He can stay.”

To Ethan, killing or sparing him didn’t really matter—it was all about his mood. And right now, the guy’s groveling was amusing enough to earn a pass. Besides, his Zombie Horde was already starting to absorb outside forces. One more wouldn’t hurt.

He stopped walking, and in the same moment, the crushing Domain of the Dead vanished. The suffocating pressure lifted, and the air returned to its calm, eerie stillness.

Gatorax and his crew felt the weight disappear instantly, but the fear lingered. If zombies could sweat, they’d be drenched right now.

He was beyond relieved—like someone who’d just walked away from a plane crash. And he was seriously grateful to Big Ears. If that guy hadn’t spoken up for him, he’d be a pile of meat by now.

“Hey!” Big Ears leaned in, lowering his voice and giving Gatorax a series of exaggerated winks and nods.

“Huh??” Gatorax blinked, confused. What the hell was that supposed to mean?

But after a second, it clicked.

Oh. Right. Go take a damn bath.

“Y-Yeah! Got it! On it!” Gatorax blurted, then spun around and bolted, dragging his filthy crew with him in search of water.

Ethan watched them go and smirked. Not bad. He’d just gained a squad of… amphibious troops.

…

Outside the city of San Antonio.

A group of Genesis Biotech Awakeners stood waiting, eyes fixed on the city.

They’d successfully lured the massive Zombie Horde into the urban zone. The plan was already halfway complete. Inside, Mist had reappeared, and the chilling roar of Fear had echoed through the streets.

“Perfect! That’s exactly what we wanted!” the lead Awakener said, grinning with satisfaction. This was going better than expected.

He quickly pulled out his communicator and called Richard back at HQ.

“Richard! Operation Lure Gator is going smoothly. Looks like they’re fighting in there!”

“Good, good, good!” Richard replied, clearly pleased. With those crocodile monsters keeping the Zombie King busy, they’d bought themselves some valuable time. The “Ultimate Defense Line” project could move forward.

“Keep your eyes on San Antonio. Report anything unusual immediately.”

“Got it, Richard!” the Awakener replied confidently.

But then—something changed.

“Wait a second…”

“What now?” Richard asked, his tone sharp.

The Awakener squinted toward the city. Something was off. The massive Zombie Horde that had stormed into San Antonio… was now retreating. And fast.

They were rushing out of the city like their lives depended on it.

“What the hell… they’re pulling out of San Antonio!”

“Why?!” Richard demanded, baffled.

The Awakener didn’t answer right away. His jaw dropped as he watched the scene unfold.

Near the city, a canal fed into an artificial lake. Gatorax and his zombies were stampeding toward it like a pack of maniacs. One by one, they dove into the water, splashing around, scrubbing themselves furiously.

“They’re… they’re taking a bath?”

“…What?” Richard’s voice was flat with disbelief.

“Yeah. They’re literally bathing.”

Silence.

Then:

“…Are you fucking kidding me?”

…