Apocalypse: King of Zombies Chapter 1188: They Asked Us to Hand You Over

Clearford City...

While General Cross and his team were deep in talks about the approaching enormous zombie wave, the satellite phone clipped to General Cross's waist suddenly began to buzz.

He checked the incoming call and swiftly answered it.

In mere moments, a strange expression crept across his face... not fear, not fury—more like the stunned reaction when the world refuses to align with expectations.

Director Vaughn and the rest observed him closely, their features etched with curiosity.

After some time, General Cross wrapped up the conversation. The group immediately bombarded him with queries.

"General Cross—what's going on?"

"Yes," he replied, his tone grave. "Something major."

He hesitated, as if voicing it would solidify the impossible.

"Leonard Hale... has been killed."

"What?!" The entire room recoiled in shock.

"He was perfectly safe in Goldcrest City—how could he drop dead so abruptly?" Confusion gripped them all, until a shared realization dawned. Their eyes grew wide.

"You don't mean...?"

General Cross nodded wearily. "Exactly. Ethan and his crew took him out."

"...."

One person rubbed their face in exasperation. "That Ethan... he was just supposed to fetch two folks. How does that turn into offing the head honcho of another base?"

"Did Leonard balk at giving up the crystal core?"

"Unlikely," someone responded promptly. "A Tier 8 crystal core means nothing to them. They'd hand it over without a second thought. My guess is Leonard rubbed them the wrong way."

"Spot on." General Cross's voice grew firm. "Based on what I know of those two, this screams Leonard's doing. The man's power-hungry. He likely pulled some underhanded stunt, and Ethan's not one to take a hit without hitting back. Things boiled over into violence."

"Is Leonard a fool? Offending anyone in sight?"

"Isn't the whole Hale family like that?" a voice grumbled. "Arrogant to the core. He must've underestimated Ethan's power."

Director Vaughn edged closer. "General—was that the Hale family on the line?"

"Yes." General Cross dipped his head. "Alexander Hale personally. He demands we surrender the culprits."

"Oh— so what's our move?"

"We stay out of it." General Cross shot back without delay. "If they've got the guts, let them hunt the killers down themselves."

"But won't that piss off the Hale family? Down the line, if they—"

"Then we piss them off," General Cross interrupted. "Between the Hales and the Fallen Star Squad, the Squad's the one that scares me more."

"...Makes sense." Nods rippled through the gathering.

No one grasped the Fallen Star Squad's might like they did. They knew full well the dread they inspired.

"Still, General Cross," a hesitant voice piped up, "if the Hales can't lay a finger on the Fallen Star Squad... won't we catch the backlash?"

"We'll manage." General Cross dismissed it with a gesture. "Our base's power level now means the Hales can't touch us solo."

"Plus..." His gaze sharpened. "Atlas City isn't the Hales' personal playground. If they push against us, the other clans will block them."

"Phew..." Tension eased from the room.

As dusk fell, three colossal birds soared directly into the Clearford City base.

The watchmen caught sight of the enormous avians—and their riders—and quickly stowed the anti-aircraft weapons, anxious to avoid any tragic mix-up from a stray bullet.

Since the Titan Ape assault, Clearford's troops held the Fallen Star Squad in true esteem.

Warriors revere power. And the Squad had essentially rescued the whole outpost, forging that admiration through sheer grit.

These days, Ethan and his team roamed Clearford City as freely as if it were home turf.

Before long, the trio of massive birds touched down at the rear of a grand estate within the base. Ethan and Skinny Pete dismounted alongside Skinny Pete’s folks, and Ethan promptly distanced himself to gather the Ironback Rat's armored panels.

Prime stuff—tougher than any bulletproof vest.

It might not aid Ethan much personally, but bringing it home to craft into gear for Fallen Star City's Enhanced would save countless lives.

Chris and the gang rushed over the instant they caught wind of the commotion.

"Ethan, you're returned. Seems the trip was a breeze."

"Well... not entirely." Ethan grinned casually. "Let's head in. I'll fill you all in."

"Sure."

"One thing." Ethan gestured to the peregrine falcon bound in tattered bandages. "Henry, tend to Flint."

Eyes sparkled as they took in the sight.

"Holy crap—yet another aerial beast?"

"Yep." Ethan affirmed. "One extra, and we're set to soar anywhere from here on."

"Haha, incredible!"

Under Henry's care, Flint's wounds mended at an astonishing pace—unbelievable given his prior state.

Once the filthy wrappings fell away, Flint buzzed with energy, zipping and looping through the air like he ruled the heavens.

He dove toward the rear yard, eyed a handful of snowy apes lounging asleep on the lawn...

...and abruptly straightened up.

They entered the lounge. Skinny Pete guided his parents up to a second-floor chamber.

Ethan sank into the sofa and recounted the full saga from Goldcrest City. When he wrapped up, the space hummed with chatter.

"A forbidden technique like that exists? Terrifying stuff."

"Right—and the Hales testing it on humans. That's straight-up vile!"

Ethan gave a nonchalant lift of his shoulders. "Not all that surprising. End times bring out the worst; folks will cross any line for gain. And that technique—anyone who finds it will experiment, no doubt."

"...True enough."

A figure leaned in, gaze eager. "So the Void Realm in Atlas City could be like our first encounter—packed with treasures. Want to scout it?"

"That realm's been known for days," countered another. "Atlas teems with Enhanced. They've surely ransacked it by now. Any valuables are long gone before us."

"Not always." A new input arose. "Recall the captain's True Sight. Even if it's picked clean, he might uncover hidden gems."

"True." Several heads swiveled to Ethan. "Captain, you in?"

"Once we handle the local Zombie King," Ethan declared, "we'll swing by Fallen Star City... then off to Atlas City."

"Settled!"

At that moment, the chime sounded.

Ethan laughed softly. "Likely General Cross and company."

"No kidding needed," quipped one. "After your stunt in Goldcrest, it'd be odd if they stayed put."

Sean dashed to answer.

Indeed, General Cross and Colonel Mitchell waited at the threshold. As Sean swung the door wide, they offered warm grins.

"Evening. Hope we're not intruding."

"Not at all—enter." Sean ushered them swiftly. "General Cross, Colonel Mitchell, take a seat."

They crossed into the space and approached Ethan with amiable looks.

"Ethan, apologies for dropping by unannounced."

"General Cross—think nothing of it. Please, sit."

They settled on the cushions. General Cross exhaled deeply, a mix of awe and incredulity.

"Ethan, you all move at lightning speed. Clearford to Goldcrest and return—that's over two thousand miles. I figured it'd take you two or three days minimum. Never imagined you'd wrap it in a single day."

"It was manageable." Ethan beamed. "Thanks to the flying mounts. Feels just like hopping a pre-apocalypse plane—quick trip."

General Cross shook his head. "Hardly comparable. Post-collapse, aircraft are dead weight. We—and other bases—attempted flights early on. Usually, it crashes and burns, no survivors."

"Mutant flyers treat planes like easy prey. They mob them. No escaping, no dodging."

He eyed Ethan pointedly. "Honestly, you're probably the only ones still taking to the skies these days."

General Cross obviously itched to probe how Ethan tamed those aerial mutants—but sensing it was off-limits, he bit back the words.