Apocalypse: King of Zombies Chapter 1234: You Bring a Gift?

Throughout the day, the entire Atlas City compound buzzed with non-stop activity…

On this occasion, crystal cores from compounds throughout the Atlas Federation had been amassed and fused together, sparking a colossal shift that propelled the federation's collective power surging ahead.

Exchanges for Tier 6 and Tier 7 crystal cores drew the biggest crowds. They required fewer lower-Tier cores in trade, and the conversion happened at a quicker pace.

Moreover, reaching Tier 6 granted an ordinary Enhanced a skill—and allowed them to begin drawing in enigmatic energy on their own to climb even higher in Tiers.

Thus, for the majority arriving to trade, the focus was clear: elevate every member of their compound to Tier 6 as a top priority.

Naturally, some self-centered folks existed too—those who devoured massive quantities of cores to snag Tier 9s, boosting only their own power while ignoring the rest of their compound.

Without the Tier 9 exchange limit imposed by Atlas City compound, such individuals would have pushed trades all the way to Tier 10.

Crystal core exchanges continued even into the night…

Inside a room within the compound, Garrett held a stunning woman under one arm while twirling a Tier 9 crystal core in his other hand, examining it closely.

“This Atlas City compound is truly impressive,” he grumbled. “The synthesized core appears identical to a genuine one.”

“Hey…” the woman cooed, snuggling nearer in his lap. “You traded for so many Tier 9 cores this time. Could you spare one for me?”

Garrett laughed softly. “That hinges on… how thoroughly you intend to please me tonight.”

The woman grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Oh, rest assured. I guarantee you won’t be disappointed.”

She eased herself from his lap deliberately, poised to demonstrate her words.

Suddenly, a knock echoed at the door.

She halted abruptly.

“Enter,” Garrett commanded.

The disturbance irritated him greatly, yet he understood no one would interrupt him now without cause. Lustful he might be, but foolish he was not—discerning priorities had been key to expanding his compound into a major force.

A man rushed inside.

“Well?” Garrett’s gaze sharpened. “What did the probe reveal?”

“Boss,” the man reported tensely, “that Ethan you ordered me to check—along with his Fallen Star Squad—it connects straight to the rumor I brought up earlier.”

Garrett’s eyebrow jerked. “Which rumor?”

“Roughly half a month back, a nine-member squad showed up in Atlas City. They battled the Hale family and ultimately annihilated them in full view of Atlas City’s elite powerhouses.”

He gulped. “And no one could halt them. None of Atlas City’s mightiest made any impact.”

“Atlas City has attempted to suppress it,” he added swiftly, “but the event was too massive back then. Many witnessed it, so details remain accessible.”

“From the whispers going around… every member of that squad was Tier 11.”

He raised his eyes. “And their name was Fallen Star Squad.”

“…” Garrett’s expression stiffened.

His eyes then bulged wide.

“All Tier 11?” he roared. “How in the world is that feasible?!”

Recalling the morning’s conference room scene, however, Garrett’s face grew grim.

A squad leader occupying the prime seat beside General Maxwell Kane—it had seemed absurd initially.

But if the whole squad consisted of Tier 11s?

It became not absurd at all. Utterly sensible—and chillingly so.

Garrett glared at his underling. “So you’re saying… you knew about this already?”

“Yes,” the man replied cautiously. “It surfaced during our checks on other compounds’ strengths.”

Garrett’s features contorted. “Then why the hell didn’t you mention it sooner?!”

The man’s expression filled with complaint. “Well… boss… you instructed me not to bother you if it seemed improbable…”

“Fuck!” Garrett erupted. “If I ordered you to drop dead, would you have done that too?!”

He lashed out with a kick, hurling the man sprawling from the room.

“Hey…” the woman next to Garrett whispered, attempting to calm him with a sultry tone. “Shall I assist in venting that frustration?”

“Scram,” Garrett growled—and hurled her aside dismissively.

Mood for fun had vanished completely.

Pre-apocalypse, Garrett Knox had been the scion of Knox Industries—a classic spoiled heir. Post-collapse, he gained a potent ability, supported by his father, rising to command one of the Atlas Federation’s two independent mega-compounds.

Garrett embodied success in every way. Pride—and arrogance—came naturally.

That morning, spotting Ethan—younger than himself—seated superior to him had chafed deeply. As doubts about Ethan filled the room, Garrett added his own barb.

It hadn’t felt significant. Many voices had joined in. One extra shouldn’t count.

Yet Ethan had noted him specifically.

This whole mess was pounding a fierce headache into Garrett's skull.

Should Ethan choose to demand payback later on, Garrett would be utterly doomed.

Ethan's look that morning hadn't seemed to show much concern... yet Garrett wouldn't gamble his whole future on such a slim hope.

After pondering deeply for ages, Garrett at last made up his mind: time to offer an apology.

They say a friendly smile averts any slap. Ethan likely wouldn't hold such a petty grudge.

Plus, if Garrett handled it smoothly, this could even become an opportunity to bond with him.

However... for a proud soul like Garrett, swallowing his pride to apologize felt like torture. He drew several heavy breaths before finally striding forward.

“Let’s go,” he said through gritted teeth. “We’re heading to Fallen Star Squad’s base.”

“Huh? Boss, why there?”

“No questions. Just come along.”

“…Alright.”

Fallen Star Squad’s mansion…

“Mia,” Ethan called out, “prep extra food for dinner. General Cross and his crew are dropping by.”

“Understood,” Mia replied with a nod. She then dragged Emily into the kitchen, where they dove into preparations.

Within Atlas City compound, fields had been fully replanted long ago. Food supplies posed no challenge.

Since the strange energy emerged, crop maturation periods had plunged sharply.

Take corn, for instance—formerly needing about four months from seed to harvest, it now ripened in little more than a month. And the yields were plumper, richer, packed with extra nutrition.

Thus, once a compound achieved steady progress, maintaining stocks of corn and veggies became straightforward.

Meat, though, was a different beast entirely.

To secure meat, one had to hunt down mutant beasts.

Mutant beasts outmatched zombies in strength—far tougher to take down—so regular folk rarely savored meat.

Yet for Fallen Star Squad, meat was no hurdle whatsoever. Ethan's storage ring brimmed with mutant beast carcasses. He could grab any at random and sustain an entire group.

Mia and Emily had just started bustling in the kitchen when a knock echoed at the door.

Ethan shot a glance at the entrance and furrowed his brow.

“Skinny Pete. Get the door.”

“Right away!”

Skinny Pete dashed over and flung the door wide.

Four figures waited outside. Leading them—a sleek young man flashing a suave grin—eyed Skinny Pete and spoke, “Greetings. I’m Garrett from Riverton City compound. I shared a fine talk with Ethan this morning, so I’ve come to visit Fallen Star Squad.”

Skinny Pete eyed him blankly. “Yeah? Got a gift?”

“A gift?” Garrett faltered briefly, then snapped back. He swiftly fished out a Tier 8 crystal core and offered it.

“Brother. Do me a solid.”

Skinny Pete glared at the Tier 8 crystal core as if it had spat on his forebears.

Then—

“BANG!”

He slammed the door in their faces.

“…”

Back inside the mansion, onlookers merely shook their heads. Not a word was uttered.

If the boss dispatched Skinny Pete to the door, it signaled the visitors weren't wanted. Had they been, Ethan would've handled it himself.

Out front, Garrett glowered at the shut door.

Never in his life had anyone dared snub him so brazenly.

But recalling the terrifying powerhouses within that mansion, he choked down his fury.

Gritting his teeth in agony, he fished out a Tier 9 crystal core.

He pounded on the door once more. Fiercely.