Chapter 1107: Since When Do Zombies Have Table Manners?

On a rooftop not far from Eastwood Heights in Clearford City, three figures lay flat against the concrete, binoculars pressed to their eyes as they carefully observed the scene below.

Their clothing blended perfectly with the rooftop’s color and texture—unless you were looking for them, you’d never know they were there.

They were scouts—recon soldiers stationed by the compound to monitor the movements of the Tier 9 zombie.

"It’s eating again," one of them murmured.

Through the lenses, they could see a man in a suit seated at a dining table inside a mansion in Eastwood Heights. He held a knife in one hand, a fork in the other, and was calmly savoring his "meal."

On the table in front of him lay a freshly severed human leg, still dripping blood.

He carved off slices of thigh meat with slow, deliberate movements, then brought each piece to his mouth with the fork—graceful, almost refined.

If not for the blood-red eyes glowing in his skull, no one would’ve guessed he was a zombie.

Around the table stood several other zombies, waiting silently for his command.

Outside the mansion—and throughout Eastwood Heights—zombies packed the streets, standing shoulder to shoulder.

This place had become a no-go zone for humans. A death trap.

"You guys really think we can kill that thing?" one scout asked quietly. "The longer I watch it, the less confident I feel."

"Don’t start that crap," another snapped. "The General’s got a plan. We just need to keep tracking its movements."

"Yeah... I guess."

"Wait—look over there. Someone’s coming!" the third scout suddenly said, adjusting his binoculars.

The other two quickly followed his line of sight. Sure enough, eight figures were moving fast in their direction.

"Looks like an Enhanced squad," the middle scout muttered, frowning. "Didn’t we make it clear no one’s supposed to come near this area?"

"There’s always a few idiots who think the warnings are fake," the third scout said. "Think we’re hiding something valuable out here."

"So what now? We’ve gotta warn them somehow."

"How? If we make a sound, we’ll be the next course on that thing’s dinner table."

"...Yeah, good point. Nothing we can do. Just their bad luck."

"They brought it on themselves. The compound’s been crystal clear—stay away from this zone. If they still came, they’re asking for it."

"Damn..."

...

Meanwhile...

"This is weird," Chris muttered. "Not a single zombie the whole way here. Kinda unsettling."

The streets were eerily empty. Everyone in the group noticed it.

Since leaving the compound and heading east, they hadn’t encountered a single zombie. Not one. It was the first time since the apocalypse began that they’d seen anything like it.

"Probably a high-Tier zombie nearby," Ethan said, scanning the area as he activated [True Sight]. "It must’ve pulled all the nearby ones into its territory."

A moment later, his eyes lit up.

"Found them."

"A lot of them..."

"Tier 9’s gotta be close."

The moment Ethan said it, the whole team snapped to full alert.

"Let’s find a high vantage point," Ethan said. "I’ll try to pinpoint the Tier 9’s exact location."

"Got it." The group broke into a run, heading for a tall building nearby.

Back on the rooftop, the three scouts flinched as they saw where the group was headed.

"They’re coming this way?!"

"Holy shit! If they bring the horde with them, we’re screwed!"

"Goddamn it, what the hell is this?!"

"Get ready to jump. If anything goes wrong, we bail—no hesitation."

"Understood."

All three were ready to curse out loud. They’d been lying low, doing their job, and now this? Trouble literally running up the stairs.

But then, something stunned them.

The group’s speed was insane. In just a few blinks, they’d already entered the building—without making a sound, without alerting a single zombie nearby.

"Pros," one scout whispered.

The three exchanged glances, each seeing the same shock in the others’ eyes.

A moment later, the rooftop door creaked open—like the lock had never even existed.

Ethan paused for a second when he spotted the three people already on the rooftop.

He hadn’t bothered checking the roof before coming up—didn’t expect anyone to be lying in wait up here. But it didn’t take long for him to figure it out. These guys were probably scouts from the compound, stationed here to monitor the Tier 9 zombie.

"Where’s the Tier 9?" Ethan asked bluntly, not wasting time with pleasantries.

There were way too many zombies down below to search through manually. Since these three were already watching the area, they had to know where the target was.

"???"

The three scouts stared at him, completely dumbfounded.

So... they knew there was a Tier 9 zombie here—and still came anyway?

One of them instinctively glanced toward a mansion not far off.

Ethan followed his gaze, then activated [True Sight] and looked in that direction.

A moment later, his eyes widened.

Inside the mansion, the Tier 9 zombie was seated at a dining table, calmly enjoying its meal.

"Since when do zombies have table manners?" Ethan muttered.

"Did you find it?" Chris asked in a low voice.

"Yeah," Ethan nodded, then turned to Skinny Pete. "Call Nugget. Tell him to get over here."

"On it." Skinny Pete gave a quick nod and began reaching out to Golden Eagle Nugget through their mental link.

One of the scouts finally spoke. "You guys Enhanced from the compound?"

"Yeah," Ethan replied casually, eyes still locked on the mansion, already running through possible kill plans in his head.

Inside, besides the Tier 9, there were three Tier 8 zombies and seven Tier 7s. That was a stacked lineup.

The real problem was the Tier 9 staying holed up inside. If Ethan flew in on Golden Eagle Nugget, it’d be tough to land a clean hit.

"If you’re from the compound, why didn’t you heed the warnings? You’re not supposed to be anywhere near this area."

"Oh, we just got here. Didn’t know. But isn’t the military hands-off when it comes to Enhanced movement?"

"Normally, yeah. But this place is seriously dangerous. You shouldn’t be here."

"Got it. No worries. You don’t need to worry about us."

"..."

The older scout sighed. "Forget it. You’re already here. Just stay low. If the zombies spot us, we’re all dead."

Ethan turned to glance at them. "You guys should leave. Don’t stick around. Once things kick off, we won’t be able to protect you."

"What’s that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. Just saying, there’s probably gonna be a fight soon. If you don’t leave now, you won’t get the chance later."

"!!!"

The three scouts stiffened.

"Don’t do anything stupid," one of them said quickly. "Forget the Tier 9—just the swarm down there is enough to strip us to the bone."

"Exactly. So go. Otherwise, you really won’t have bones left to worry about."

"..."

The three stared at Ethan and his team, completely speechless. Were these guys even listening?

Just then, a black dot appeared in the sky, rapidly approaching.

It grew larger by the second.

The scouts’ eyes went wide. They scrambled for their binoculars.

"Holy shit! That’s a massive Golden Eagle!"

"It’s a mutant beast!"

"Damn it—it’s flying straight toward us!"

"If we make any noise fighting that thing, the zombies below will swarm us in seconds!"

"We’re out. Abandon the post!"

"Yeah!"

The three bolted for the stairs.

"Move! What are you guys still standing around for?!" one of them shouted back at Ethan’s group.

Ethan just smiled. "You guys go. Don’t worry about us."

Even now, they were still trying to look out for them. Definitely military.

"You—"

"Screw it. We’re moving. Now!"

Seeing that Ethan and the others weren’t budging, the scouts had no choice but to retreat.