Apocalypse: King of Zombies Chapter 1181: You Think Too Highly of Yourself

The gate of the compound had by this point become a total battlefield. Corpses and injured lay scattered all over the place.

Ethan along with Skinny Pete hadn't drawn any weapons or activated their powers, yet their immense power turned every random strike into something devastating or fatal.

Soldiers kept rushing in greater numbers to join the fray. They unleashed all they had—powers, guns, and even bigger caliber weapons.

Yet none of it truly challenged the pair.

"Tier 9! He's absolutely Tier 9!"

"Damn—an average Enhanced reaching Tier 9 so quickly?"

"Ha! I've despised these Military Police for so long. At last, someone's giving them what they deserve!"

"This is one hell of a spectacle!"

In the distance, Colin—who had lost an arm—gazed at them in pure horror.

Just he realized: these guys weren't merely "Tier 9."

He had transformed into metal, yet the man smashed his arm as if it were flimsy tin. No regular Tier 9 could pull that off.

That individual... could be Tier 10.

The idea sent chills racing through Colin's core.

Tier 10. How could such a beast already walk among them?

He observed his troops falling one by one, but he refused to rush back into the melee. Deep down, he knew—if he advanced, it would only mean offering himself up for slaughter.

As moments ticked by slowly, additional bodies crumpled to the earth. Suddenly—

"Stop!"

A powerful shout pierced the turmoil. A person dashed onto the scene.

The soldiers let out visible sighs of relief upon spotting the arrival, and they quickly ceased their actions.

However, Ethan and Skinny Pete showed no signs of easing up. Their limbs continued their relentless assault.

"I ordered you to stop! Did you not hear that?!" the new arrival bellowed.

Ethan spared him a quick look, then effortlessly launched another group of soldiers skyward with a kick.

"Shout as much as you like," Ethan replied. "I'll handle my business. Got an issue?"

"!!!"

The onlookers all drew in sharp gasps together.

"Whoa. He's straight-up ignoring Lieutenant Colonel Conrad Hayes—the Provost Marshal—without a second thought."

"Why should he care? He doesn't know the guy."

"Heh, this'll be interesting. Conrad's on the verge of losing it."

As expected, Conrad's features twisted into a scowl.

Yet astonishing everyone, the figure dreaded throughout the compound—the embodiment of power, the base's top lawman—refrained from erupting.

He took a deep inhale, compelled himself to adopt a humbler stance, and addressed them in a strained, even voice.

"I'll concede that my subordinates botched this," Conrad admitted. "However, you've slain enough already. You've proven your strength. Why not call it quits right now? Deal?"

"No."

Ethan rejected without a pause.

"After you've begun the battle, you can't simply halt because it suits you."

Conrad's teeth ground together. "...So what exactly do you demand?"

"Allow me to continue killing for thirty more minutes."

"Out of the question!" Conrad's visage shadowed over, and he met Ethan's gaze head-on. "You arrived to retrieve someone, not to massacre innocents. Persist like this, and you believe you'll still walk away with your target?!"

Ethan at last ceased his motions.

He squinted at the individual before him.

"Who might you be?"

"Conrad Hayes," the man introduced. "Provost Marshal. I oversee order and penalties across this base."

"Perfect." Ethan's tone sharpened to ice. "In that case, we can pause... provided you exchange your life for theirs. Thoughts?"

Conrad paled instantly. "You wouldn't! Do you intend to turn Goldcrest City into your eternal foe?"

"Foe?" Ethan appeared mildly entertained. "You overestimate your worth."

"Your single life in trade for all theirs?" Ethan went on, gaze emotionless. "That's a steal."

With those words, a machete discarded on the dirt abruptly lifted skyward, pulled by some unseen force.

Before spectators could comprehend the sight—

It hurtled ahead and plunged directly into Conrad's neck.

Conrad gripped his neck, eyes popping wide as he fixed on Ethan.

He refused to accept it. The bastard had truly gone through with killing him.

Conrad attempted words, but his parted lips only spilled crimson.

Next, his form toppled forward and crashed down. His stare remained wide—brimming with resentful fury and baffled shock.

"!!!"

The abrupt shift left all stunned, gaping with stunned expressions and limp jaws.

This was Conrad Hayes—the base's Provost Marshal. The authority over life and death for all. And he'd been slain openly before their eyes?

True, many harbored hidden desires for his end.

But witnessing it unfold was a whole different shock.

Conrad ranked as a top Tier 8 Enhanced, still he hadn't mustered any defense. Killed in a flash.

That seeded a perilous query in their thoughts.

Was this fellow truly just "Tier 9"?

Could any Tier 9 eliminate a maxed Tier 8 so swiftly?

Despite the uncertainty lingering, no one wished to accept the existence of anyone beyond Tier 9 yet. It felt simpler to assume Conrad simply hadn't anticipated the abrupt attack.

Colin, however, felt no astonishment.

Yet he trembled at Ethan's ruthlessness.

Provost Marshal. Among the compound's supreme leaders—and Ethan ended him without a flinch.

Far too savage.

The area plunged into utter quiet. All eyes fixed on Ethan and Skinny Pete as if beholding mobile catastrophes.

Soon, another squad arrived rushing from within the base. The lead youth surveyed the destruction, his expression souring.

"You both overstepped badly."

"Wasn't this precisely your goal?" Ethan responded calmly. "You sought to probe our limits. Probes come with a price."

"You—"

"Save it," Ethan interrupted. "Escort us to Leonard."

"..."

The youth inhaled deeply and steadily.

"Alright. Come with me."

He spun around and headed deeper into the compound.

Ethan offered a subtle grin and guided Skinny Pete behind.

Only after their departure did the gate crowd exhale once more.

They scanned the ruin—particularly Conrad Hayes's remains—and a chilling conviction swept over them.

Goldcrest City stood on the brink of transformation.

Colin released a heavy breath. He commanded his team to clean the site and transport Conrad's corpse inward.

The gate incident rippled through the compound in no time, igniting widespread chaos.

Conrad had been slain at the primary entrance.

The report struck like thunder, dumbfounding all.

Had numerous eyewitnesses not confirmed it, disbelief would reign.

Quickly, talk of it engulfed every corner of Goldcrest City. Gossip swelled rapidly, spreading far and wide.

In the meantime, the youth directed Ethan and Skinny Pete toward the heart of the compound.

En route, every person spotting him bowed their head and offered greetings. Many murmured among themselves as well.

Their behaviors revealed his high standing without doubt.

And from snippets Ethan overheard in those hushed talks, this leader ahead tied intimately to Deputy Base Commander Leonard Hale.

Ethan shot a glance at Skinny Pete.

Skinny Pete dipped his head, quickened his steps, and matched pace with the youth.

"Hey," Skinny Pete called. "What's your name?"

"Lucas Hale."

The youth obviously resented them, but he held back any overt display. He replied straightforwardly.

Skinny Pete, true to form, cut to the chase. "What's your relation to Leonard Hale?"

Lucas paused briefly, then admitted, "He's my uncle."

"Ah." Skinny Pete bobbed his head thoughtfully. "Makes sense why folks treat you with such respect. Family ties, huh."

"..."

"You belong to the Hale family?" Ethan inquired abruptly.

"Yes," Lucas confirmed.

Skinny Pete rubbed his jaw. "Interesting. So Leonard Hale has solid support as well. Explains his command position."

"..."

Lucas itched to retort sharply.

But recalling their recent actions—and their formidable might—he bit his tongue.

Avoiding conflict seemed wiser.