The electric fence was at least seven or eight meters high. An ordinary person would never be able to get over it without tools. The seemingly endless fence stretched as far as the eye could see, as if someone had gone to great lengths to enclose the entire area.
The purpose was self-evident: they didnât want them to leave this place. The group knew they had been set up.
The higher-ups had sent them on a mission to exterminate zombies, but they never intended for them to get out alive. Or perhaps they were afraid theyâd get infected during the mission, so they decided to be thorough and let them perish along with the monsters of Y City.
Lex Cross shook his head and let out a faint smile.
âWho else but my so-called father would have the power and audacity to expend so much manpower and resources to seal off an entire city district?â
âIs he that desperate to let that womanâs son take over?â
âThe original owner of this body, Lex Adler, was murdered by his own father and stepmother. How tragic. Itâs precisely because this Lex Adler died that I, Lex Cross, was able to use his identity to survive on this planet.â
He suddenly thought of his own dear older brotherânot born of the same mother, yet doted on by their father. âIf my motherâs family hadnât been so powerful, would she and I have met an untimely end long ago, just like this Lex Adler?â
Perhaps it was this shared plight that led him, upon first arriving on Earth, to promise the dying Lex Adler he would become him and avenge him.
He was not the original Lex Adler. He was Lex Cross, the War God of the mightiest Star Nation, a hairâs breadth away from ascending to the rank of âThe Strongest.â Even with his power suppressed, he would never let himself be killed by such a crude scheme from a mere earthling.
"Bring the car over. Weâll head to Phoenix City first to regroup, then weâll look for this professor. Itâs not far from Phoenix City to Sinia City."
"Boss, do we really have to go? Why donât we wait until our strength recovers, find the materials, and fix the thrusters? Then we can go back!"
Five couldnât help but complain to Lex Cross. He really didnât want to stay in this backward hellhole. His power was so suppressed he wanted to cry, and he had to constantly fight these inferior waste-slaves that earthlings called zombies.
He sniffed himself in disgust, his brow furrowed. He had never smelled this bad before. He hadnât showered in days!
"Your cultivation levels are too low to sense it. This Earth... is truly... interesting." Although Lex Cross spoke with a deadpan expression, his eyes glittered with amusement.
This planet had a peculiar law: the stronger a person was, the more their power would be suppressed. His own original strength was so immense that it had been reduced to less than a tenth of its former glory here.
But every cloud has a silver lining. He found he could actually absorb the energy on this planet, causing a slight loosening in his cultivation realm, which had been stagnant for a very long time.
"Boss, that Lex Adler was already murdered by his own father. We donât need to waste our time here."
A glint flashed in Lex Crossâs eyes. Though it was just a casual glance at the speaking Five, it was enough to make Five shut his mouth and lower his head obediently.
"When in Rome, do as the Romans do. Since we canât go back anytime soon, this identity is convenient for settling down on this planet. Say no more."
"When can we go home? I wonder if we even won that war." Two men with identical faces sighed melancholically. The two weakest brothers in their squad had already fallen in this damned place. Now, the two of them were the weakest left. They really didnât want to die on such a backward planet.
"Civet, The Crown Prince, you two really know how to bring up a sore subject! Without the Boss, how could that bunch of small-fry win? If that bastard, the Young Master, hadnât framed the Boss, would we have ended up stranded in a backward place like this?"
"Itâs because our powers are suppressed now! Otherwise, how could these inferior waste-slaves possibly harm us!"
Lex Cross listened to his brothersâ back-and-forth complaints without saying much. He had to find a way to recover his strength quickly. This world was not as primitive as they imagined; he could faintly sense something pulling the strings behind everything that was happening.
"Otherwise, Finn and Hero wouldnât have died here." Finn and Hero were their brothers who had come to Earth with them, only to be killed by the zombies here.
To prevent them from turning into those hideous, inferior waste-slaves, it was Lex Cross who had personally destroyed them completely.
"Boss, I just canât accept this!"
Lex Cross gazed at the dim sky, his expression serene. âWho would have thought that my normally gentle, good-for-nothing older brother actually possessed such strength.â
âNo matter where you are, strength is always oneâs most fundamental necessity.â
Lex Cross stared at the sky, as if peering through it to some other place in another time and space.
"Brother, it seems Iâve been too merciful to you all."
..................
ăMeanwhile, on Flora Bloomâs side.ă
Once out of the city, Flora Bloom, Neal Wallace, Mervin Warren, and Ethan Monroe got out of the car.
The four of them walked along a small road outside the city for a long while before finally reaching a toll booth on a rural-urban passway.
The daily traffic there was extremely light. Most of the time, only drivers of large trucks illegally smuggling goods would choose to pass through here in the early morning or late at night.
At this moment, there were only two vehicles at the tollway. A Japanese "crispy-skinned" car was parked crookedly on the roadside, while a Volvo was stopped at the toll gate, its driver apparently having been in the middle of paying the toll when the outbreak happened.
Flora Bloom and the others cautiously approached the Volvo.
The Volvo was a mid-to-high-end car in its class, its most prominent feature being its incredibly sturdy frame. If a Japanese or Korean car of the same size were to collide with it, they would be dented beyond recognition.
The Volvo, on the other hand, would at most suffer a slight deformation at the point of impact, a testament to its durability. A car like this perfectly met Flora Bloomâs current criteria.
The toll station had only one entrance and exit. One booth was empty, but at the one where the Volvo was stopped, a woman was snarling and ramming against the boothâs glass window.
The driverâs seat of the Volvo was empty. There was a childâs car seat in the back, but it was empty as well.
After scanning the area and finding no other threats, Flora Bloom was the first to open the car door and slip into the driverâs seat. Neal Wallace quickly got into the passenger seat, leaving the back for Ethan Monroe and Mervin Warren.
The keys were still in the ignition. The driver must not have had time to take them, much to Flora Bloomâs convenience.
After driving for an hour, they stopped to refuel at a small gas station on the outskirts of the city. Flora Bloom killed the three zombies inside with her axe, then found several fuel cans in the stationâs lounge. She filled them with gasoline and diesel and stored them in her space for future use.
Everything was going smoothly.
As dusk fell, Flora Bloom found an empty country lane and parked the car on the side. She then took out the leftover takeout from her space and handed it to Neal Wallace and the other two.
Ethan Monroe couldnât stop marveling at how convenient and useful Flora Bloomâs space wasâit even kept food warm!âwhile stuffing his face, his mouth glistening with grease.
Suddenly, Ethan Monroe let out a strange cry, startling Flora Bloom and Neal Wallace.
"What the hell was that? How dare you attack Lord Monroe!"
As Ethan Monroe spoke, his large, fat hand shot out, grabbed something, and yanked. A small boy was dragged out from the gap between the back seat and the trunk.
Seeing he was caught, the little boy panicked and bit down on Ethan Monroeâs wrist.
"AHH! Itâs over, itâs over! Iâve been bitten by a zombie! Flora Bloom, save me!"
Seeing this, Flora Bloom, with her quick reflexes, was about to swing her axe when Neal Wallace shouted at her to stop.
"Wait! I think itâs a child. Not a zombie."
Flora Bloom turned on the carâs interior light and looked. Sure enough, it was a little boy with fair, tender skin, looking to be about six or seven years old. He was currently staring fiercely at the food in Ethan Monroeâs hands.