Apocalypse: King of Zombies Chapter 1221 1221: I Don’t Need Permission to Kill

"Utter nonsense!" Dominic bellowed. "Do you believe you can simply eradicate the Hale Family on a whim?!"

Trembling with fury, he thrust a finger toward Ethan. "Do you truly think we're powerless against you? Push us any further—"

"Dominic!" Charles interrupted him abruptly, then faced Ethan. "Ethan—both Dominic and Benjamin hold top positions in the Atlas Federation. The Hale Family stands as one of its key supports. Those demands are impossible for us to accept."

"You've misunderstood," Ethan replied calmly. "This isn't a negotiation. Consider it a declaration."

His stare remained frigid. "Permission isn't required for me to kill."

Next, he let out a soft, mocking huff. "'Pillar,' is it? Removing a couple of corrupt ones might make the Atlas Federation stand even taller."

At that moment, Ethan waved his hand casually.

The dagger lying on the ground jerked upward as if pulled by an unseen string, hurtling toward Dominic with blinding speed.

This abrupt action caused everyone's hearts to skip a beat.

No one had anticipated Ethan launching an assault right during the "discussion."

Dominic's eyes bulged in shock. Death loomed mere inches away when—

Suddenly, a figure darted before him.

It was a young man.

He intercepted the dagger directly.

The knife plunged into him, yet he seized it with his bare palm. Still, the impact shoved both him and Dominic back a few paces.

"Huh?" Ethan's eyebrows arched.

Such protective devotion was rare in these times—virtually extinct.

Moreover, the man had withstood Ethan's attack without visible injury. That defied expectations.

Ethan triggered [True Sight] for a deeper scan.

His face grew tense.

The man's Tier was undetectable. His ability remained hidden too. It resembled a blank slate in his mind—a total emptiness.

Ethan had encountered nothing similar before.

Regaining his footing behind the youth, Dominic barked a bitter chuckle. "Hmph. Killing me won't be so easy."

He whirled on Maxwell like a feral beast. "Maxwell! He's attacked me now—will you fire the laser cannon or not?!"

"Precisely," Benjamin chimed in urgently, his tone piercing. "He's after our two families today. Tomorrow, he'll crush the remaining three and seize Atlas City. Next, he'll consolidate the Atlas Federation—claiming dominion over the whole thing!"

Those words caused Charles's and even Maxwell's expressions to harden.

It struck at their deepest unspoken dread: a powerhouse like this could indeed achieve it.

"Claim the Atlas Federation?" Ethan shook his head. "No interest from me."

His gaze shifted to Dominic, icy with ruthless composure. "Do you honestly believe he can shield you?"

In an instant, Ethan disappeared.

Teleportation.

He materialized directly before them and unleashed a punch aimed squarely at the youth.

The young man showed no hesitation. He raised his own fist to clash directly.

Dark shell-like patterns emerged across his knuckles—tough and reinforced, mimicking a turtle's shell.

Boom—!

Their fists smashed together.

Ethan stood firm without budging.

The youth, on the other hand, was hurled back, sliding through the air. His sleeve tore apart from the force—

—yet strangely, his arm remained unscathed. Not a single misalignment.

Fresh astonishment narrowed Ethan's eyes.

That power neared Tier 11 levels.

Enduring Ethan's blow without his limb shattering? No ordinary Tier 11 possessed such resilience.

Ethan hadn't unleashed full strength, of course—but his inherent might was undeniable. Typical Tier 11 Enhanced would struggle against a direct strike from him.

Must be that shell-like armor, Ethan mused. If correct, it's an advanced Innate Ability.

"Holy shit…" Big Mike's eyes widened massively. "He survived Ethan's punch? That's crazy."

Fallen Star Squad members appeared equally stunned.

They fully grasped Ethan's prowess.

Not even they could guarantee blocking one of his punches squarely.

The youth crashed to the ground without a peep.

He bounced up in a flash—and rather than fall back, he lunged at Ethan independently.

"Hm?"

Ethan's brow furrowed. This fellow seemed off. His gaze was vacant… far from human.

Could it be… Ethan's realization dawned. One of those thralls crafted by the Hale Family with a forbidden technique from the Void Realm?

As the man closed in, Ethan seized his fist, pulled him close, then stomped a foot on his back, slamming him face-first into the dirt.

The youth writhed ferociously, flailing wildly like a beast—

—yet escape proved impossible.

Ethan's sheer strength had surpassed Tier 11 limits. This creature couldn't wrench away.

Examining him closely, Ethan noted the rigid face. The lifeless eyes. Nothing human about it.

Confirmed. It's a thrall, Ethan concluded.

Its potency shocked him. Small wonder the Hale Family stooped to such vile human testing.

Then Ethan spotted the bared skin on the man's arm.

A subtle blue-green hue.

A familiar chill twisted his gut.

Recalling the previous day, clarity struck abruptly.

The body extracted from beneath the Void Realm altar… its flesh bore the identical blue-green shade.

Truth be told, the corpse's hue was darker. This one's was paler—barely noticeable unless scrutinized.

Is that "corpse" also a thrall? Ethan's mind whirled. Or something akin?

"Ethan," Charles urged once more, tone strained yet diplomatic, "let him go. Let's discuss this properly."

"Let him go?" Ethan glanced at Charles with a faint grin. "Old timer… are you certain this is a 'him' at all?"

Charles's forehead creased. "What do you mean by that?"

True terror flickered across Dominic's features. "Ethan… will you push this beyond any return?"

"Beyond return?" Ethan chuckled lowly. "You think you hold bargaining power?"

His eyes sharpened. "You're utterly outmatched."

"What if I join the equation?"

A thunderous voice echoed from afar.

All heads whipped toward the sound.

Atop a distant rooftop, a cluster of figures appeared. Leading them was a man in his sixties.

And next to the group—

—loomed a gigantic, peculiar cannon, its barrel locked onto this very street.

"ALEXANDER HALE!"

Recognition hit immediately.

But upon spotting the cannon, pallor spread across every face.

Maxwell's visage darkened to stone as he glared upward. "Alexander—lacking my consent, you lack clearance for that. Who authorized the laser cannon's deployment?"

That was it.

Atlas City's deadliest armaments—one forged from apocalyptic fortunes in resources.

A laser cannon.

It bore no resemblance to pre-apocalypse guns. Encased in advanced alloy, with a broad barrel tapering to a slim nozzle—futuristic, evoking sci-fi fortresses.

Powering it: over a hundred Tier 8 crystal cores plus scores of Tier 9 ones.

Its destructive potential was apocalyptic.

Alexander snorted disdainfully. "Once I set my mind to action, nothing halts me."

Then he jabbed his charge like a blade. "And you, Maxwell Kane! A killer rampages in our base, even vowing to annihilate the Hale Family, yet as Atlas Federation's Commanding General, you fail to act—you're aligning with them."

His gaze slit. "What, scheming to wield them against the other four families for solitary rule?"

"Alexander," Maxwell retorted in rage, "that's a grave slander. I'm no such person!"

Alexander scoffed. "No such person? Then explain refusing the laser cannon as they threaten my Hale Family's doom. Will you idly witness our destruction?"

"You're aware of the fallout from firing that within the base," Maxwell replied tensely. "The fallout would be catastrophic!"

"Consequences are a luxury we can't afford now," Alexander barked, quivering with fervor as he indicated Ethan's crew below. "They must be eradicated!"