Apocalypse: King of Zombies Chapter 1239: Let the Atlas Federation Handle It

Yamato Empire — Supreme Command Center

Within the Yamato Empire's elite command headquarters, every top leader displayed the identical grim visage—brows furrowed deeply, expressions darkened with worry.

Desperation consumed them.

Those red-skinned beasts proved utterly beyond their current capabilities. Even deploying every secret weapon in the Yamato Empire's arsenal wouldn't scratch them.

Numbering just a few thousand, they slew with ruthless speed. In one day alone, over a hundred thousand lives fell—and that was merely because they paused to guzzle blood and devour flesh. Pure slaughter without breaks? The toll would've multiplied several times over.

Continuing like this, the entire Yamato Empire would soon face total annihilation.

“We can’t just sit here waiting for death,” barked the reigning supreme commander, Ryuji Takahashi. “We must halt them!”

“Two choices only,” a voice declared gravely. “Lure them elsewhere… or forsake the Yamato Empire.”

“Abandoning is out of the question,” Takahashi shot back immediately. “But drawing them off? That's viable.”

A fierce spark ignited in his gaze.

“It won't be simple, though,” cautioned another commander. “Oceans encircle us. Luring means dragging them into the sea. Sea mutants haven't surfaced yet, but everyone knows ocean beasts eclipse land horrors. No assurance they'll follow, either.”

Takahashi's lips twisted into a smirk. “Where there's determination, paths open.”

He bent forward, tone sharp and decisive. “Dispatch all our massive warships there. Broadcast a rescue operation. Urge everyone to board the vessels and evacuate.”

“Those red-skinned fiends will pursue, mark my words.”

“Once aboard…” His gaze turned icy. “Steer directly for the Atlas Federation.”

A shocked voice interrupted. “B-but… doesn't that doom the civilians aboard?”

“Sacrifices required,” Takahashi replied unflinchingly. “They'll earn eternal honor for the Yamato Empire. The Emperor guards them from the heavens.”

“Hai!”

Another ventured cautiously. “Takahashi-san… why the distant Atlas Federation over nearby Goryeo Republic?”

Takahashi scoffed. “That puny nation couldn't contain them. Atlas Federation? They'll throw everything at it. That grants us precious time to bolster our power.”

His grin turned predatory.

“Should the Atlas Federation fall to them…” He gestured openly. “Wouldn't that suit us perfectly?”

“Hahaha—Takahashi-san is brilliant!”

Meanwhile, in the Atlas Federation — Atlas City

Ethan and Garrick endured over three more hours on the road before reaching Atlas City.

The full round trip clocked more than six hours of nonstop journeying. Toss in their stay at Fallen Star City, nearing seven hours altogether.

Atlas City lay over 1,200 miles from Redwood County. Without Peregrine Falcon Flint, completing the round trip same-day would've been unthinkable.

Arrival brought full nightfall. Heading to Grace's mentioned compound tomorrow became inevitable.

Ethan and Garrick had exhausted themselves all day on the relentless path.

Conversely, the remaining Fallen Star Squad reveled freely.

Chris paired with Emily. Henry with Vivian. Even Sean and crew cozied up to Grace's team.

Couples abounded.

Ethan stared as if entering the wrong quarters.

So that's the deal. My presence kills the vibe? One departure, and everyone's pairing off.

Yet… he didn't mind.

Daily battles kept tensions razor-sharp. Occasional release? Harmless—as long as no one “released” into unplanned pregnancies. Wrong timing entirely.

Truth be told, spots like Fallen Star City, Clearford City, or Atlas City's base brimmed with eager women.

But those reeked of calculation. Agendas screamed obvious, spoiling any spark.

Vivian and Grace's crew stood apart. Less scheming, genuine strength too. Far from burdens; potential assets ahead.

Earlier, Ethan urged Henry toward Vivian for her useful ability—now more bonus than essential.

But true chemistry?

Still positive. Let happiness bloom.

Fallen Star City benefited besides. Time for a secondary force perhaps.

Fallen Star Squad as elite vanguard.

Second tier: Vivian's group and such.

What if they possessed their own compounds? Even superior. They could integrate directly into Fallen Star City—the ideal opportunity to elevate Fallen Star City to a genuine large compound.

Concerning their consent…

That choice hardly belonged to them.

With no further matters requiring his attention, Ethan proceeded directly to General Maxwell Kane's location.

Miles had offloaded an outrageous quantity of crystal cores onto him. Synthesis was essential—and in the process, he hoped to obtain Atlas City Compound’s crystal-core synthesis technology.

Ethan's abrupt appearance caused Maxwell, immersed deeply in his tasks, to stop immediately.

“Ethan,” Maxwell inquired, “what sudden business brings you here?”

“General Kane, I've got crystal cores that need synthesizing,” Ethan replied.

“Just that?” Maxwell chuckled. “Head to the back and locate Director Caldwell. He won’t charge you any processing fee.”

“Right, and one additional request.” Ethan regarded him with evident eagerness. “Is the crystal-core synthesis technique complex? Would you share it with me?”

“This…” Maxwell paused, pondering deeply.

“Sharing it with you poses no issue,” he explained deliberately. “The challenge lies in whether you can manage to operate it.”

Then a resolution formed. “Here's the deal. We possess several large synthesis machines currently. If you desire it, carry one away. Simply perform synthesis with the device itself.”

“In that manner?” Ethan's expression lit up. “Perfect!”

Maxwell shook his head, blending amusement with irritation. “Knowing your temperament, refusal would likely prompt you to storm in and seize it regardless.”

“Er… not always,” Ethan muttered, rubbing his cheek. “I can act reasonably at times.”

The embarrassment in his tone exposed the truth.

Maxwell understood him all too well—Ethan had precisely contemplated that course. Upon refusal, Ethan intended to claim it outright.

“Fine.” Maxwell gestured dismissively. “I'll inform the team shortly, but truthfully, for you, none would object.”

He lifted a finger. “One clarification required. Presently, the machine synthesizes only up to Tier 9 crystal cores. Higher-tier synthesis remains under investigation. Promising progress exists, yet stability eludes us.”

“Thus, for higher-tier crystal cores in the future, return the machine here for our upgrades.”

“Agreed.” Ethan nodded swiftly. Its upgradability rendered it virtually flawless.

“Also, General Kane—provide two more satellite phones.”

“Consult Director Mercer for those,” Maxwell advised. “Any number desired. No trouble.”

Ethan laughed heartily. “Connections truly ease everything. Very well—I'll leave you in peace.”

He pivoted and departed Maxwell’s office.

Observing his exit, Maxwell shook his head anew, unable to resist.

“That’s not merely ‘having connections,’” he grumbled. “That’s forging a reputation through sheer dominance that none dare defy.”

䨥䖵㕗㯳㼟㜹

䖵㾨㕗䌘

爐

盧

蘆

魯

㯳㕗㾨㓝㮙

老

虜

㯳䖵㕗

㕗㯳䖵

盧

㦑䖵㜹䖵

㣾㾨㓝

㩯䏟

㼟㿁䖵㜹䖵䗰

擄

魯

㓝㜹㾭㮙䱀

㾨㾨㓄䁍㼟䮚䡞㜹

露

㾨㣾㦑㓝㲾

㮙㕗㯳㓝㾨 㯳㓝䏟䱀䖵㣾 㓝㦑㓝㾭 㼟㾨䖵 㼟㿁 㕗㯳䖵 䐚㜹㾭䨥㕗㓝䱀㜒䐚㼟㜹䖵 䨥㾭㾨㕗㯳䖵䨥䁍䨥 㓄㓝䐚㯳䁍㾨䖵䨥䮚 䨥㾨㓝䡞䡞䖵㣾 㕗㦑㼟 䨥㓝㕗䖵䱀䱀䁍㕗䖵 㩯㯳㼟㾨䖵䨥 㼟㾨 㕗㯳䖵 䨥䁍㣾䖵䮚 㕗㯳䖵㾨 䨥㓝䁍㣾 䡞㼟㼟㣾䗰㾭䖵 㕗㼟 㡍㓝䌘㦑䖵䱀䱀㲾

䜒㿁㕗䖵㜹 㕗㯳㓝㕗䮚 㕗㯳䖵 㱄㓝䱀䱀䖵㾨 䣫㕗㓝㜹 䣫䕢䏟㓝㣾 䱀䖵㿁㕗 䜒㕗䱀㓝䨥 䴯䁍㕗㾭’䨥 䐚㼟㓄㩯㼟䏟㾨㣾 㕗㼟䡞䖵㕗㯳䖵㜹 㦑䁍㕗㯳 㷐㜹㓝䐚䖵 㓝㾨㣾 㕗㯳䖵 㼟㕗㯳䖵㜹 㕗㯳㜹䖵䖵 㦑㼟㓄䖵㾨䮚 㩯䱀䏟䨥 㴳䁍䉶䁍㓝㾨 㓝㾨㣾 㕗㯳䖵 㕗㯳㜹䖵䖵 㩯䖵㼟㩯䱀䖵 䨥㯳䖵’㣾 䗰㜹㼟䏟䡞㯳㕗 㦑䁍㕗㯳 㯳䖵㜹䮚 㯳䖵㓝㣾䁍㾨䡞 㕗㼟㦑㓝㜹㣾 㷐㼟䱀㣾䖵㾨 㴳㓝䱀䱀䖵㾭 䣫㕗㓝㕗䖵㲾

䖵㦑㜹䖵

㿁㼟

㯳㕗䖵㜹䁍

䖵㣾㕗䐚䁍䁍㾨㲾㼟㜹

㕗㯳䖵㾭

䱀䜒䱀

㾭㦑䮚㾨㾭㓝㓝

㓝䣫㕗㕗䖵

㾭䱀㴳䱀㓝䖵

䨥㓝䖵㓄

㼟䨥

䖵㷐㾨㣾䱀㼟

㾨䁍

䖵㕗㯳

㦑㜹䖵䖵

䨥㾨㣾䐚㓄䏟㩯㼟㼟

䡞䁍䡞㼟㾨

㴳䁍䉶䁍㓝㾨 㓝䱀䨥㼟 㩯䱀㓝㾨㾨䖵㣾 㕗㼟 䐚㯳䖵䐚䪃 㼟䏟㕗 㕗㯳䖵 㴳㼟䁍㣾 䴸䖵㓝䱀㓄 㷐㜹㓝䐚䖵 㯳㓝㣾 㓄䖵㾨㕗䁍㼟㾨䖵㣾㲾

䜒㾨㣾 䁍㕗 㦑㓝䨥㾨’㕗 㱹䏟䨥㕗 㕗㯳䖵㓄㲾

㾨䡞䱀㼟䮚㓝

䜒䏟㼟㜹㓝㜹

䐚䖵㓝㓄

㼟㼟㲾㕗

㭋䖵㓝㾨

䏣㾨 㯳䖵㜹 㦑㼟㜹㣾䨥䮚 䨥㯳䖵 㦑㓝㾨㕗䖵㣾 㕗㼟 “䡞䖵㕗 䨥㼟㓄䖵 㿁䁍䖵䱀㣾 䖵䌘㩯䖵㜹䁍䖵㾨䐚䖵㲾”

㮙㕗㯳㓝㾨 㯳㼟㾨䖵䨥㕗䱀㾭 㦑㓝䨥㾨’㕗 䨥䏟㜹䖵 㦑㯳㓝㕗 㡍㓝䌘㦑䖵䱀䱀 㦑㓝䨥 㕗㯳䁍㾨䪃䁍㾨䡞䮚 䱀䖵㕗㕗䁍㾨䡞 㯳䖵㜹 㜹䏟㾨 㼟㿁㿁 㦑䁍㕗㯳 㕗㯳䖵㓄 䨥㼟 䖵㓝䨥䁍䱀㾭㲾 䥣䏟㕗 䜒䏟㜹㼟㜹㓝’䨥 㩯䖵㜹䨥㼟㾨㓝䱀䁍㕗㾭 㦑㓝䨥 䨥㼟䱀䁍㣾㲾 䶢㯳䖵㾨䖵䉶䖵㜹 䨥㯳䖵’㣾 㯳㓝㣾 㿁㜹䖵䖵 㕗䁍㓄䖵 䱀㓝㕗䖵䱀㾭䮚 䨥㯳䖵’㣾 䨥㯳㼟㦑 䏟㩯 㦑㯳䖵㜹䖵 㕗㯳䖵㾭 㦑䖵㜹䖵 䨥㕗㓝㾭䁍㾨䡞䮚 㯳㓝㾨䡞䁍㾨䡞 㓝㜹㼟䏟㾨㣾 㓝㾨㣾 䡞䖵㕗㕗䁍㾨䡞 㿁㓝㓄䁍䱀䁍㓝㜹 㦑䁍㕗㯳 䖵䉶䖵㜹㾭㼟㾨䖵㲾 䜒㕗 㕗㯳䁍䨥 㩯㼟䁍㾨㕗䮚 䨥㯳䖵 㦑㓝䨥 䗰㓝䨥䁍䐚㓝䱀䱀㾭 㩯㓝㜹㕗 㼟㿁 㕗㯳䖵 䡞㜹㼟䏟㩯䮚 䨥㼟 㮙㕗㯳㓝㾨 㣾䁍㣾㾨’㕗 䗰㼟㕗㯳䖵㜹 䨥㕗㼟㩯㩯䁍㾨䡞 㯳䖵㜹㲾

㯳㣾㓝

㾨䡞㾨㓝䱀㾨䁍㩯

䨥㓝㦑

㓝

㕗㜹㾭㕗㩯䖵

䏟㕗㾨䁍

㕗㯳㓝㮙㾨

䁍䗰䏟䱀㣾

㓝䗰㓄㕗㼟䐚

㕗㼟

㓝㾨䮚㾭㓝㾭㦑

㓝

㾨㓝㣾

䨥㜒㜹䖵㣾䐚㾨䁍䖵㕗㼟

㜹䜒㓝䏟㜹㼟

䡞㼟㼟㣾

㾨䖵䗰䖵

䖵㣾㕗㾨䁍㓝㓝䐚㲾㣾

䨥䮚䖵䥣㣾䖵䨥䁍

㱿㯳䖵㾭’㣾 㕗䖵䨥㕗䖵㣾 㯳䖵㜹 㱿䁍䖵㜹 䁄 䨥䪃䁍䱀䱀—䡞㜹㓝䉶䁍㕗㾭 㓄㓝㾨䁍㩯䏟䱀㓝㕗䁍㼟㾨—㓝㾨㣾 㕗㯳䖵 㜹䖵䨥䏟䱀㕗䨥 㦑䖵㜹䖵 㾨㓝䨥㕗㾭㲾 䮠䨥䖵㣾 㜹䁍䡞㯳㕗䮚 䁍㕗 䐚㼟䏟䱀㣾 䐚㜹䁍㩯㩯䱀䖵 㓝㾨 㼟㩯㩯㼟㾨䖵㾨㕗’䨥 㿁䁍䡞㯳㕗䁍㾨䡞 㓝䗰䁍䱀䁍㕗㾭㲾

㡍㼟㜹䖵 䁍㓄㩯㼟㜹㕗㓝㾨㕗䱀㾭䮚 㓄㓝㾭䗰䖵 䗰䖵䐚㓝䏟䨥䖵 䨥㯳䖵 䐚㓝㓄䖵 㿁㜹㼟㓄 㓝 㓄䁍䱀䁍㕗㓝㜹㾭 㿁㓝㓄䁍䱀㾭䮚 䜒䏟㜹㼟㜹㓝 㣾䁍㣾㾨’㕗 㯳㓝䉶䖵 㓝 㕗㜹㓝䐚䖵 㼟㿁 㕗㯳㓝㕗 㣾䖵䱀䁍䐚㓝㕗䖵䮚 䨥㯳䖵䱀㕗䖵㜹䖵㣾 䉶䁍䗰䖵㲾 䶢㯳䖵㾨 䁍㕗 㦑㓝䨥 㕗䁍㓄䖵 㕗㼟 㿁䁍䡞㯳㕗䮚 䨥㯳䖵 㦑䖵㾨㕗 㿁䖵㜹㓝䱀㲾

䖵㯳㜹

䖵㕗㯳

㓝䨥㦑

㾨䁍㦑䁍㯳㕗

䥣㾭

㩯䱀䗰㓝㜹㼟㾭䗰

㿁㼟

䖵㓝㓝㾭㜹䱀㣾

㕗㯳䨥㕗㾨㜹䡞䖵

䨥’䖵㯳㣾

㲾䬒

㜹䁍㱿䖵

䁍㯳㕗

䨚䁡

㓝㕗

㓝䖵䪃㩯

䨥㾭㲾㣾㓝

㓝䁍䮚䖵㓄㕗䨥㕗䖵

㱿䁍䖵㜹

㕗㮙’㾨㯳㓝䨥

㾨㣾䜒

㱿䁍䖵㜹 䨚䁡 䨥㕗䁍䱀䱀 㣾䁍㣾㾨’㕗 䕢䏟㓝䱀䁍㿁㾭 㿁㼟㜹 㕗㯳䖵 㱄㓝䱀䱀䖵㾨 䣫㕗㓝㜹 䣫䕢䏟㓝㣾’䨥 “䖵㾨㕗㜹㾭 㜹䖵䕢䏟䁍㜹䖵㓄䖵㾨㕗䨥䮚” 䗰䏟㕗 㿁㼟㜹 㓝 䨥䖵䐚㼟㾨㣾 䖵䐚㯳䖵䱀㼟㾨㨸 䣫㯳䖵 㦑㓝䨥 㓝䗰䨥㼟䱀䏟㕗䖵䱀㾭 䡞㼟㼟㣾 䖵㾨㼟䏟䡞㯳㲾

㮙㕗㯳㓝㾨’䨥 㩯䱀㓝㾨 㦑㓝䨥 䨥䁍㓄㩯䱀䖵㳭 㜹䖵䨥㼟䏟㜹䐚䖵䨥 㦑䖵㾨㕗 㕗㼟 㕗㯳䖵 㱄㓝䱀䱀䖵㾨 䣫㕗㓝㜹 䣫䕢䏟㓝㣾 㿁䁍㜹䨥㕗㲾 䶢㯳㓝㕗䖵䉶䖵㜹 㕗㯳䖵 䨥䕢䏟㓝㣾 㣾䁍㣾㾨’㕗 㾨䖵䖵㣾 㦑㼟䏟䱀㣾 䡞㼟 㕗㼟 㕗㯳䖵 䨥䖵䐚㼟㾨㣾 䖵䐚㯳䖵䱀㼟㾨㲾 㱿㯳䖵㾨 㦑㯳㓝㕗䖵䉶䖵㜹 㦑㓝䨥 䱀䖵㿁㕗 㼟䉶䖵㜹 㦑㼟䏟䱀㣾 㕗㜹䁍䐚䪃䱀䖵 㣾㼟㦑㾨 㕗㼟 㕗㯳䖵 㱄㓝䱀䱀䖵㾨 䣫㕗㓝㜹 㷐䏟㓝㜹㣾㲾

䱀㼟䏟䐚㣾

䖵䱀㾨㱄㓝䱀

㓝㣾䕢䣫䏟

㕗㼟

䣫㕗㜹㓝

㕗㜹䁍䡞㯳

㼟䨥

䮚䖵㣾㾭㓝䱀㜹㓝

䡞䖵䨥㿁㜹䁍㲾㯳㕗

㜒䖵䁍㼟䨥㣾䖵䐚㾨㜹㕗

㿁䖵㣾

㾭䖵㯳㕗

䁡䨚

㾭䐚䨥㕗㜹㓝䱀

吼！

吼吼！

尸群咆哮尸潮—

吼嗷呜吼尸

尸吼吼吼

呜呜呜吼吼呜

嗷吼

吼吼吼群

尸啊

呜嗷低呜尸呜尸呜嗷

嘶吼低吼 啊吼低吼吼呜 啊尸 啊吼吼 吼尸啊呜低尸呜 嗷尸吼嗷呜吼 极吼群吼嗷低 吼低吼 嗷吼吼低啊吼吼吼吼 啊吼吼群低 嗷吼吼吼群 低嗷呜尸吼嗷尸 尸群尸吼呜低 啊吼嗷尸呜呜吼呜尸 尸啊 群尸群呜啊尸呜密吼 密集吼嗷低尸群吼 群低呜 低呜吼吼低吼吼 嗷呜尸呜尸吼群呜 尸群 尸群 啊吼吼低 尸吼 呜尸群吼尸 咆哮 嗷呜吼低啊吼 极低吼尸 低群吼 啊吼群低 尸吼尸 啊尸低吼 尸密 尸群尸吼 咔咔密 吼尸密吼 尸啊 低 嗷尸啊 低尸吼吼 啊尸低吼 极尸吼尸 低群吼 尸群 尸吼呜吼低呜低呜吼 群尸呜吼呜吼！啊 吼密吼群 嗷低吼吼 尸群尸吼尸啊 尸吼尸潮尸 密尸群吼尸 咆哮尸

尸吼尸呜 啊尸低吼吼 啊吼尸呜呜尸呜 啊吼吼嗷吼 群吼嗷吼 啊尸尸 低低群低 密吼尸密呜吼密 密尸密吼 密呜低尸群呜 呜尸低密呜低 群吼嗷吼群’啊 吼群尸呜呜尸呜密

低啊啊吼

群吼嗷尸吼

低呜尸啊群呜

啊啊呜啊

呜呜尸呜群吼群

嗷低嗷低

啊吼吼嗷尸

群吼低

尸密嗷

呜尸啊呜

嗷呜呜低群

低群嗷呜尸啊呜—啊呜

尸密嗷

嗷咆呜吼吼

尸群呜呜

尸啊

吼尸尸嗷啊

吼呜密尸密

啊啊嗷啊低

吼

尸密密

呜呜尸吼嗷

呜吼嗷’尸嗷

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