The thick stench of blood mixed with the icy air, hitting the zombies' senses like a slap to the face.
Grizz's mouth started watering uncontrollably again—this time, there was no doubt about it. The flesh and blood in front of him were real.
He looked up at Ethan, finally understanding what he was trying to do.
"Hmph! You think you can buy us off with a little meat? We're not that cheap!" Grizz growled, forcing himself to resist the temptation.
But before he even finished his sentence, the sound of loud, wet chewing echoed from the ground. Boar was already face-down in the pile of meat, devouring it like a starving animal, completely lost in the moment.
"Mmm… damn, this is good!"
"..." Grizz's face twitched. Seriously? No self-control at all… And could he maybe leave some for the rest of us?
Ethan spoke slowly, his voice calm but firm. "Pureblood zombies shouldn't be under the control of the Vampire Race."
Grizz's heart skipped a beat. That hit a nerve. Thinking back on everything that had happened, he couldn't deny how humiliating it had all been.
But switching sides wasn't something you did lightly.
He'd survived this long in the apocalypse, evolved to this level—he wasn't stupid.
"Why should I trust you?" he asked, narrowing his eyes. "What if you're just trying to lure me back to the nest and kill me?"
"If I wanted you dead, why would I bother with tricks?" Ethan replied casually, his tone light but laced with absolute confidence.
"You…" Grizz was at a loss for words.
He glanced back and realized, without even noticing, he'd wandered far from the corpse nest.
Turning back to Ethan, he saw the man standing there, calm and unreadable. He wasn't giving off any aura, but he felt like a towering mountain—imposing, untouchable.
Grizz had every reason to believe that if Ethan wanted him dead, it'd be over in a heartbeat. After all, this was the undisputed zombie overlord of America.
And Ethan was already thinking the same thing—if the defection didn't work, he'd just kill them all.
The group of zombies stood facing Ethan, tension thick in the air.
Snow drifted down in the endless night.
Except for Boar, still chomping away: "Grizz (chomp chomp)… come on, think about it (chomp chomp)… remember how those Mutant Vampire Zombies treated us? (chomp chomp)"
The other zombie underlings behind him were clearly wavering too.
"Yeah, they treated us like dogs!"
"And all we got were bones!"
"Look at this guy—he's handing out fresh meat! You better make up your mind fast, or Boar's gonna eat it all!"
"..." Grizz's face darkened. At this point, there were only two options: switch sides or die.
And let's be real—Ethan's "benefits package" was way better than what they had before.
You'd have to be an idiot not to know what to choose.
Grizz looked up and said quickly, "Boss, honestly, I've hated those freak zombies for a long time. I was just waiting for you to come find me!"
"Not bad," Ethan said, nodding slightly. He appreciated how fast Grizz caught on.
The elite zombie underlings started getting pumped.
"Just thinking about the Vampire Race pisses me off!"
"Yeah! Let's wipe them out this time!"
"Let's see how cocky they are after this!"
The zombies roared in unison. Now that they had the American zombie overlord backing them, they finally had a way out—and that gave them confidence.
Ethan nodded, clearly satisfied.
Then, with a wave of his hand, he tossed out several dead chickens and a bunch of blood-filled cans—spoils he'd collected back on the island of Tasmania, from the Vampire Race's breeding farms.
Using their own supplies to turn their minions against them? Perfect.
The zombies' eyes lit up. Starving for so long, they couldn't resist anymore. One by one, they lunged forward, tearing into the meat and guzzling the blood.
And deep down, they were genuinely moved.
This new boss? Generous as hell.
A thousand times better than those Vampire bastards.
Moments later, the horde finished feasting. Their eyes gleamed with renewed energy, a savage glint flickering in their gaze.
"Boss, we're done eating," one of them said, licking blood from his fingers.
Ethan nodded. "What are your names?"
Grizz and Boar exchanged a glance before introducing themselves. Their names had been given to them by the Vampire Race—fitting, sure, but clearly chosen without much thought.
Ethan frowned. "Yeah, those names suck. We're changing them."
"To what?" Both Zombie Kings perked up, curious.
Ethan thought for a second, then smirked. "You'll be Big G and Lil' B from now on."
"Hell yeah! That's way better!" The two of them lit up, genuinely impressed. "Big G & Lil' B" sounded way cooler than "Grizz and Boar"—like they'd just leveled up.
It felt like a rite of passage. Shedding their old names was like wiping away the past, officially pledging loyalty to Ethan.
With that, they set off toward The Frozen City.
As they marched, memories of the Vampire Race's cruelty burned in their minds. Big G and Lil' B's eyes blazed with fury.
"Time to fuck 'em up."
With the two Zombie Kings now on Ethan's side, the once-impenetrable defenses of The Frozen City crumbled like paper.
The dense zombie horde that had once blocked every path now parted like the Red Sea, clearing a straight path for Ethan.
He walked calmly through the chaos, stopping in front of the building where the Vampire Race had holed up. He looked up—faint, flickering firelight danced behind a few windows.
He could sense them. Hundreds of Vampire Race members inside. A full-blown clan.
"Wait here," he said.
"Got it," Big G replied with a nod.
Ethan's figure dimmed, fading into the shadows as he activated the Domain of the Dead's stealth ability. He slipped into the building like a ghost.
He wasn't here to start a fight—yet. First, he needed intel.
The Vampire Race had taken over what used to be a five-star hotel.
The lobby was littered with old bones. Bloodstains streaked the walls, long since dried. You could still see the claw marks from when the world first fell apart.
Two Vampire Race guards patrolled the hallway, both looking bored out of their minds.
"Seriously, what's the point of patrolling?" one muttered. "There's a damn wall of zombies outside. You couldn't squeeze a fly through that crowd."
"Lord Malrick's just cautious, as always. We just gotta go through the motions," the other replied with a shrug.
He didn't get to finish his sentence.
His body suddenly went limp and collapsed to the floor—dead before he hit the ground.
The first guard froze, stunned. He turned his head slowly—and saw a figure in white standing behind his fallen comrade.
Between his fingers, he held a freshly harvested B-grade crystal core, his eyes scanning it with a hint of nostalgia.
"Man… it's been a while since I picked cherries. Guess I'm not that rusty after all."
The remaining guard's face twisted in horror. Pure, paralyzing fear.
He opened his mouth to sound the alarm—but Ethan's hand was already on him.
Another body hit the floor. Another crystal core gleamed in Ethan's palm.
Without breaking stride, Ethan moved up the stairs.
The Malrick clan had just finished feeding. Most had retreated to their rooms to rest and absorb energy.
Ethan moved like a shadow, silent and unseen, gliding past room after room.
And in each one, the same thing happened.
The moment he entered, the vampires inside fell into a deep, eternal sleep.
One by one, their lives were snuffed out.
Their blood, their power, their cores—claimed by death itself.