Apocalypse: King of Zombies Chapter 1217: This Was an Ambush

"This thing's pretty damn nice." With genuine admiration, Ethan flipped the weapon around in his grasp. "Atlas City, huh… makes sense. They really crafted something like this."

Curiosity sparking in her eyes, Mia stepped closer to inspect it. "The Atlas Federation's research team is ridiculously powerful. Atlas City serves as the capital—its R&D capabilities are not to be taken lightly."

"The firepower packs a punch," Chris remarked, massaging the spot on his palm struck by the blast. "I bet it could inflict real damage on a Tier 9."

He had caught the shot directly. The fact it caused him pain put it far above any weapon from before the apocalypse.

"Atlas City didn't reclaim a megacity of over twenty million residents without reason," Sean grumbled.

"Right." Ethan gave a nod. "Let's take it back for Miles to disassemble. Maybe we can replicate it. But it uses crystal cores… probably not many shots per core. Too extravagant. Raising our Tier is way more practical for us."

"True enough for our group," Mia replied steadily. "Yet for a massive base like Atlas City, handing out high-Tier crystal cores to all isn't feasible. These weapons suit elite roles perfectly—defense, protection, vital staff. In combat zones, low-Tier Enhanced with this could take down stronger zombies."

Slightly narrowing his eyes, Ethan acknowledged her logic. "Point taken. We'll give it to Miles then."

"Thieves!" Bennett snarled, his face contorted in fury while glaring at Ethan. "That belongs to me—!"

"It's mine now," Ethan stated coldly.

"…"

His chest rising and falling rapidly, Bennett exploded. "You—! You're mad! Slaughtering folks in the compound, and now robbing me out in the open! You're done for! All of you!"

Shooting Ethan a murderous stare, he pulled out a radio and prepared to talk—

—but Ethan lifted the laser weapon leisurely, pointing it straight at Bennett's forehead.

Bennett paled instantly. The radio tumbled from his fingers, hitting the ground with a clank.

"Hey—wait—don't get reckless," Bennett stammered quickly, his voice breaking involuntarily. "That weapon… it might go off by accident!"

He was fully aware of its devastating power. Even as a top Tier 8, at this range, Ethan firing would end him. No chance to evade. No hope for fortune.

The onlookers nearby stood utterly still.

No one had anticipated things blowing up to this extent.

Defying the Compound Security Force so boldly—wasn't this tantamount to waging war on the authorities?

"Drop the weapon!" an angry yell echoed. "Do you realize what you're doing?!"

Fresh troops from the Compound Security Force charged in, their uniforms gleaming as they shoved through the crowd.

Ethan shot them a look, his brows furrowing.

Did Atlas City react this swiftly?

Then reinforcements poured in.

Even more followed.

Moments later, the masses were pushed aside and dispersed, the road swarming with guards—hundreds swelling to thousands—encircling Ethan's team tightly.

Ethan's face grew stern.

The trap was obvious now—a setup disguised as official action.

From the start, when those men began harassing Mia and Emily right on the street, he'd sensed trouble. And with the clash just beginning, thousands of Security Force already present?

Regardless of Atlas City's efficiency, gathering such numbers should require at least thirty minutes—unless they were positioned close by.

Stationing thousands of Security Force in one spot wasn't standard.

"Captain," Mia whispered, scanning the surroundings, "this feels off."

"Indeed." Ethan dipped his head faintly. "We're being framed."

"We only arrived recently," Sean mumbled, puzzled. "Who'd target us so soon?"

Ethan's tone flattened. "Atlas City has an enemy waiting for us."

Realization struck the group simultaneously.

"The Hale Family," Chris uttered, his gaze intensifying.

Ethan's eyes chilled. "Correct. It's them."

His view shifted to the closing circle of uniforms, then to Bennett, who seemed merely a disposable piece in the game.

"I had no intention of stirring up issues," Ethan murmured softly. "They sought us out."

His voice chilled further.

"Fine then… the Hale Family is obsolete."

Deep within the compound, in Maxwell Kane's residence…

The table groaned under heaps of dishes—sufficient for a squad's double meal.

Sitting quietly with son Ryan and daughter Aurora, Maxwell Kane awaited.

He had treated this lunch with utmost importance, ordering the kitchen to prepare ahead, carving out personal time, and halting all duties to greet Ethan's arrival.

The Hale Family plotted against them. Though the motion failed in council, Maxwell understood the Hales wouldn't abandon it easily.

Thus, he intended this gathering to gauge them—first their actual power; second their disposition, guiding his next steps.

No one desired conflict less than him. Victory for either side meant ruinous costs.

Amid such chaos, each casualty eroded survival chances. He must avert war at its inception.

"Ryan," Maxwell inquired, eyeing his son, "you're certain they'll arrive at noon?"

"They will," Ryan assured boldly. "Yesterday's agreement holds. They won't ghost us."

"Fine," Maxwell replied, settling back reluctantly. "We'll hold out a bit more."

"Dad." Aurora scowled, unconvinced. "This isn't your style. Do they merit this wait?"

As Commanding General of the Atlas Federation—their top surviving officer—she'd never witnessed pre-apocalypse him so anxious over guests, fearing a no-show.

"They merit it completely." Maxwell's stare remained firm. "Their presence honors me. This lunch counts."

He eyed her sternly. "Greet them courteously when they arrive. Understood?"

"Got it." Aurora assented, curiosity surging. What folks prompted this from her father?

At that instant, the steward dashed inside, panting heavily.

"General Kane—terrible news! Trouble's brewing!"

Maxwell leaped up. "What's going on?!"

"Ethan's team—they've tangled with Security Force. The whole compound's force is deployed. They're boxed in!"

"What?!" Maxwell's features shifted abruptly.

"How?!" he pressed. "What exactly occurred?"

"Reports say… they slew someone within the compound. Security Force tried apprehending them. Plus—" the steward gulped, "—they struck Security Force members too."

Maxwell's look darkened.

Precisely the disaster he dreaded… unfolded regardless.

Ryan's forehead creased. "That can't be right. I've dealt with them. They appeared decent. Why kill abruptly?"

"Someone baited them," Maxwell stated tensely. "General Cross warned me—they're fiercely independent. Respect earns respect. Cross them, and rank means nothing. They strike immediately."

"They're newcomers," Ryan argued. "Who'd dare provoke them now?"

"No idea," Maxwell responded, striding off. "But we head there fast. This could explode massively."

He faced the steward. "Walter. Alert Nathaniel and Vincent. Recall them at once."

"Yes, sir!"