Apocalypse: King of Zombies Chapter 1206: The Capital of the Apocalypse

While heading toward Atlas City, five enormous birds sliced across the heavens at tremendous velocity.

Merely their overwhelming presence was sufficient to force numerous 'kings of the skies' to shrink back and maintain a wide berth.

Every bird carried one or two passengers atop it.

Ethan flew alone on the peregrine falcon named Flint, leading the pack. The rest paired up—two per bird.

The journey from Fallen Star City in Redwood County to Atlas City spanned more than twelve hundred miles. After over three hours in the air, they at last entered Atlas City's domain.

Since Nugget the golden eagle, Pebble the dire eagle, and Flint were all Tier 10, no ferocious mutant raptors dared to challenge their advance. Yet, the trip wasn't without trouble.

The massive predators kept their distance... however, swarms of smaller mutant birds launched assaults.

Creatures like sparrows and crows overwhelmed through sheer volume. Strength meant little to them. Once they targeted you, a dark, shrieking mass descended relentlessly.

Fortunately, the Fallen Star Squad proved no easy prey. They powered through the onslaught, compelling Nugget and the rest to break free from the siege.

Such incidents occurred repeatedly during the flight. Each time, they fought off the flock before surging forward at full speed to lose their pursuers.

As Atlas City unfolded below them at last, the devastating view silenced the group momentarily.

A former bustling metropolis lay ruined across a vast wasteland of scars.

Yet, right away, an even greater shock hit them—

Zombies were scarce throughout the area.

With over twenty million residents originally, Atlas City should have hosted no fewer than eighteen million zombies. For nearly all to vanish...

Ethan could only think: Atlas City was utterly mad.

Scorch marks and pockmarked roads littered the landscape. It was easy to picture the events—Atlas City had deployed heavy artillery from the start, unleashing total destruction on the zombies.

Should that hold true, their stockpile of low-Tier crystal cores must be unimaginable... though high-Tier ones likely remained scarce. That explained their heavy investment in crystal-core fusion technology.

Despite key advances, fusing one higher-tier core still demanded ten to twenty from the tier below.

Lacking initial high-Tier crystal cores, churning out high-Tier Enhanced in large numbers stayed incredibly tough.

Even using the most favorable ratio of ten-to-one, scaling up from low Tiers to high ones was a grueling ordeal.

Fusing a single Tier 9 crystal core required ten Tier 8 cores. Starting from Tier 7, that ballooned to a hundred. Tier 6 meant a thousand. Tier 5 demanded ten thousand.

Depending solely on low-Tier cores, ten million Tier 5 crystal cores would yield just a thousand Tier 9 cores.

And acquiring ten million Tier 5 cores was impossible. More likely, they held vast quantities of Tier 2 and Tier 3 cores—since early heavy weapons shredded zombies at those levels effortlessly.

Thus, mass-producing elite high-Tier Enhanced still hinged on high-Tier crystal cores. Low-Tier ones merely boosted average power levels.

They didn't linger long overhead before a colossal stronghold appeared far off, smack in the old city center.

By rough estimate, it sprawled over hundreds of square miles. Though the population inside was hidden, such a behemoth surely sheltered no fewer than three million souls.

But as Nugget and the flock veered in that direction, deafening explosions thundered through the sky.

Moments afterward, fiery-tailed rockets streaked upward at them.

Atlas City, indeed. Ethan's eyebrows furrowed. They detected us from such a distance.

He swiftly ordered Flint and the others to evade the barrage, then scout a landing site.

Those anti-air rockets could handle Tier 6 or Tier 7 mutant beasts effectively, but Tier 10s like Flint and company? Laughable.

With a few sharp bursts of speed, they outran the missiles entirely.

Soon, Flint and the group touched down on a nearby low hill.

Ethan and his companions dismounted and set off on foot toward the stronghold.

Their primary goal was scouting the local Void Realm, though its location remained unknown. Entering was essential to gauge conditions. Plus, Ethan burned with curiosity about Atlas City's bastion.

They soon arrived at the main entrance.

The gateway dwarfed even those of Fallen Star City or Clearford City in grandeur. Nearly thirty guards stood watch alone.

Ethan's team approached directly.

As in Clearford City, entry required presenting an ID card.

However, scrutiny here was far laxer. Upon hearing they hailed from outside, the guards posed simple queries, logged their details, and dispatched an intake staffer to guide them in.

This routine was evidently commonplace.

After all, Atlas City stood as the Atlas Federation's capital. Refugees seeking refuge arrived frequently.

The staffer brought them to the Registration Center for ID cards. Then, they received several homes in a housing district.

A perk of the apocalypse: homes came gratis.

Pre-Collapse, snagging property in Atlas City on average pay was a pipe dream. Now, occupancy was instant.

Yet within Atlas City's stronghold, all else demanded payment. Beyond seniors and kids, no supplies went to grown-ups for free.

To thrive, you labored for pay.

Factories, production lines, myriad trades had rebooted. Labor shortages plagued every sector. Diligence guaranteed you'd eat.

With zero rent, survival burdens felt lighter than pre-apocalypse days.

Post-Collapse, mere existence trumped all. Extravagances like luxury vehicles, estates, fancy timepieces held no allure.

One colossal cost dominated now:

Crystal cores.

Normals craved Enhanced status. Enhanced hungered for Tier ascensions.

Crystal cores gripped everyone's fixation.

In the stronghold, cash bought crystal cores of varying Tiers—the pricier, the higher the Tier.

Naturally, hunting zombies outdoors offered a no-cost path.

Yet zombies had been purged from Atlas City proper. Venturing beyond its borders for kills was perilous, with many vanishing forever.

Thus, many opted for safety: toil, earn currency, purchase cores. No life on the line.

As Ethan and crew strolled the stronghold's vibrant paths, soaking in the energy, Ethan mused: Atlas City lived up to its name.

True to expectations, at least three million resided here.

Pre-apocalypse sectors had revived—workshops, markets, eateries, academies, clinics—the works.

The atmosphere evoked a pre-doomsday era.

Solely, roads lacked vehicles.

Instead, crowds thronged them.

Enhanced could sprint effortlessly. Vehicles as transport? Obsolete.

And within this bastion, Enhanced dominated the populace.

Atlas City's early low-Tier crystal core haul was staggering. Low-Tier cores stayed cheap. A regular worker's ten days to half-month pay sufficed for a Tier 1 core.

Tier 1 and 2 cores held no fusion value for elites, so peddling to civilians maximized utility. Stronger civilians yielded greater output.

Our Fallen Star City seems like a dump next to here, Big Mike grumbled irritably.

Fair matchup was never in the cards. Ethan chuckled lightly. This is Atlas City, heart of the Atlas Federation. Our growth can't rival theirs.

Surveying the scene, he continued, Yet in battle, Fallen Star City wouldn't flinch from Atlas City. Those twenty thousand Tier 9 Enhanced pack real punch.

Yeah, the group agreed, heads bobbing.

On pure fighting might... they feared no rivals.

Let's move, Ethan urged. We'll inquire about the Void Realm here.

Mm.