Chapter 126: The Dead District, Spectator’s Meal, and a Silent Shadow

Half an hour later, Ethan reached a luxurious villa community known as Century Skyline.

Tall iron gates stood open at the entrance, their decorative patterns rusted and stained. Beyond them stretched a row of enormous villas, each surrounded by carefully landscaped gardens that had long since fallen into neglect.

Fountains stood dry, their basins choked with dead leaves.

Hedges had grown wild.

Luxury cars sat abandoned in driveways, their windows shattered and their tires flattened against the stone.

Before the Apocalypse, this had been a place where the wealthy paid fortunes for privacy and round-the-clock security.

Now, it was another silent corner of a dying city.

Ethan slowed his pace as he entered, steadying his breathing.

He recognized the name on the plaque outside.

Century Skyline had been developed by Elon Rusk, once the richest man in Silvermont City. Rusk owned one of the largest villas in the community, and there had been rumors that he maintained a private underground shelter beneath the property.

Ethan had no interest in the billionaire’s old home, however.

The scent of the injured red-haired monkey had led him straight through these gates.

Then it vanished.

He stopped beside a moss-covered stone wall and studied the surrounding villas.

’Where did you go?’

The red-haired monkey couldn’t have disappeared into thin air.

Unless it had ducked inside one of the buildings to hide and recover its depleted Spiritual Power.

Ethan lowered his sword and moved deeper into the community, keeping close to the walls and avoiding the open driveways.

He hadn’t gone far when a series of gunshots shattered the silence.

Rat-tat-tat!

The sound came from somewhere ahead.

A moment later, a heavy explosion shook the buildings, sending black smoke rising above the rooftops.

Ethan darted across a lawn, crouched behind a parked SUV, and peered over its dusty roof.

A fierce battle was unfolding near the center of the community.

A horde of zombies had surrounded a group of armed survivors. Dozens of undead crowded the wide street, clawing at barricades and throwing themselves against the survivors’ defensive line.

At the center of the group stood two familiar figures.

Max stood atop the flatbed of a truck, playing a bamboo flute.

The strange melody drifted through the chaos, faint but unmistakable. Whenever it reached a cluster of zombies, their movements became erratic. Some suddenly stopped attacking the barricade and turned on their companions, tearing into one another with savage fury.

Summoning wasn’t the only strange power Max possessed.

His flute could manipulate the lower-level undead, disrupting their coordination and turning their own numbers against them.

A short distance away, Blaze moved like a gust of wind.

His figure flickered between the zombies, his short blade flashing whenever he struck. Swirls of wind wrapped around his limbs as he attacked with ruthless precision, cutting through exposed necks and severing tendons before the undead could react.

A zombie lunged at him from the side.

Blaze twisted aside, leaving it to stumble past him, then slashed through the back of its neck.

The creature collapsed.

Another rushed him from the front.

A burst of wind swept across the street, throwing the zombie off balance. Blaze closed the distance in a blur and drove his blade into its skull.

His movements were far more fluid than Ethan remembered.

His Wind Ability had clearly improved over the past few days.

The other survivors fought in coordinated groups. Two men fired submachine guns from behind overturned vehicles while another pair covered their flanks. Whenever the zombies pushed too close, the survivors fell back toward a secondary barricade of cars and metal fencing. ℯℓ.

A rocket launcher fired from somewhere behind the defensive line.

The explosion tore through a dense cluster of zombies, sending bodies and debris flying across the road.

Ethan’s gaze shifted past the smoke to the rear of the horde.

Something enormous stood motionless among the undead.

Its skin was blue-gray, stretched tightly over a hulking, three-meter frame. Red light glimmered in its sunken eyes, and its mouth hung slightly open as it released a low, rumbling growl.

Unlike the ordinary zombies around it, the creature didn’t attack recklessly.

It stood back and watched.

Whenever the survivors weakened one section of the defensive line, the giant zombie raised its head and roared. The surrounding undead immediately surged toward the vulnerable point like an obedient army.

It was directing the horde.

Ethan’s pupils contracted.

’A Quasi-S-Rank Evolved Zombie.’

He hadn’t expected to encounter such a powerful creature inside a residential estate.

The giant zombie’s presence alone was enough to make the battle lethal. If it broke through the barricades personally, the survivors would be overwhelmed in minutes.

Yet Max and Blaze were holding their ground.

Max continued playing his flute, disrupting the zombies whenever they gathered for a coordinated attack. Blaze exploited those brief openings, cutting down the most dangerous targets before they could recover.

Their subordinates supported them with disciplined gunfire.

The ordinary zombies were gradually falling.

But a dozen stronger Evolved Zombies remained, and the Quasi-S-Rank creature hadn’t even entered the fight properly.

Ethan watched in silence.

Max and Blaze were dangerous men. He had no intention of revealing his presence unless necessary.

Besides, he still had a more important objective.

The red-haired monkey had vanished somewhere within Century Skyline. If he could find it while Max and Blaze were occupied, he might obtain its Core without having to fight either of them.

And if the battle ended with both sides badly injured...

Ethan’s eyes narrowed slightly.

There might be another opportunity to reap the spoils.

He slipped away from the SUV and entered the nearest three-story villa through a broken side door.

The interior was dark and coated in dust. Expensive furniture lay overturned in the living room, and family photographs remained scattered across the marble floor. A crystal chandelier hung crookedly from the ceiling, its ornaments catching the light that filtered through the torn curtains.

Ethan climbed the stairs quietly and entered a master bedroom overlooking the street.

From the balcony window, he could observe the battlefield without being seen.

He checked the room for threats, pulled the curtains partly closed, and settled into a chair behind them.

Then he opened his Survival Space and took out a bowl of instant noodles.

He poured in hot water, covered the bowl, and waited while watching the show below.

Outside, the battle continued.

Max’s flute rose and fell, weaving through the gunfire. Each time the zombies threatened to overwhelm the barricade, their movements became confused, giving the survivors precious seconds to regroup.

Blaze used those seconds well.

He moved through the gaps in the horde, striking at weakened zombies before retreating behind the barricade. His subordinates covered him with gunfire, preventing the undead from surrounding him.

Gradually, the number of ordinary zombies dwindled.

But the Quasi-S-Rank Evolved Zombie remained.

It stood behind the surviving undead, watching the battle with its glowing red eyes.

Then it raised one massive arm.

The zombies immediately stopped pressing against the barricade.

For a moment, the battlefield fell strangely quiet.

Even Max’s flute seemed louder in the stillness.

Ethan’s attention sharpened.

’What’s it planning?’

The giant zombie opened its mouth.

A deep roar shook the street, rattling the windowpanes.

The remaining Evolved Zombies charged all at once.

They moved far faster than the ordinary undead, their bodies slamming into the barricade with enough force to send the overturned cars scraping backward across the pavement.

One of the survivors was thrown ten feet backward.

Another screamed as a zombie dragged him over the hood of a car.

Blaze shot forward, a fierce gust of wind lifting dust around his legs. He cut down one attacker in midair, then spun to intercept another.

Max’s flute played a frantic, piercing melody.

Several zombies abruptly turned on their companions, slowing the assault just long enough for the survivors to reinforce the barricade.

The line held.

Barely.

Ethan took a bite of noodles.

’This could take a while.’

He was about to take another mouthful when a faint fragrance reached him.

He stopped chewing immediately.

The scent was delicate, carrying a hint of natural sweetness that reminded him of fresh flowers after rain. Yet there was something unusual about it, something that made his heartbeat quicken and put him instinctively on guard.

It hadn’t been there a moment ago.

Ethan slowly lowered the bowl onto the table.

Someone was standing behind him.

He hadn’t heard the bedroom door open.

He hadn’t heard footsteps on the stairs.

And even his spatial perception hadn’t sensed anyone entering the room.

His fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword.

Then he stood up and turned.

A woman stood two meters away in the center of the bedroom.

She wore a simple white dress that reached her ankles, its hem slightly dusty from the abandoned building. Her long black hair fell over her shoulders, partly obscuring the ornate silver mask covering the upper half of her face.

A stainless-steel kitchen knife hung loosely in her right hand. ℯ𝐥.𝒄ℴ𝓶

She wasn’t pointing it at him, but she wasn’t putting it away either.

Only her eyes and the lower part of her face were visible. Her eyes were wide with nervousness, and her small chin trembled almost imperceptibly.

Despite the weapon in her hand, she didn’t look like someone accustomed to fighting.

But appearances meant little in the Apocalypse.

Ethan kept his sword leveled between them, his mind racing.

’How did she get in here without me noticing?’

He had checked the villa before sitting down.

He had listened for footsteps.

He had even concealed himself behind the curtains.

Yet this woman had appeared behind him as though she had simply stepped out of the shadows.

Was she one of Max’s people?

A survivor hiding inside the villa?

Or an Ability User who had been following him from the moment he entered Century Skyline?

The woman tightened her grip on the kitchen knife.

Neither of them moved.

Outside, gunfire rattled through the streets as Max and Blaze continued fighting for their lives.

Inside the dusty bedroom, the silence between Ethan and the masked woman grew heavier by the second.

Ethan’s cold gaze settled on her eyes.

"Who are you?"

The woman didn’t answer immediately.

Her eyes flicked nervously toward the sword in his hand, then back to his face.

For a moment, she looked as though she wanted to bolt for the door.

Instead, she took a shallow breath and remained where she was.

Ethan shifted his stance, ready to strike if she made a sudden move.

He couldn’t afford to trust a stranger, especially one capable of approaching him without being detected.

Who was the mysterious woman in white, and how had she managed to get so close to Ethan without him noticing?