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Now reading: Chapter 699: Is he… actually dead? from Apocalypse: King of Zombies, a Action novel by GigglyCat.

Chapter 699: Is he… actually dead?

Because the two City Guards were ard with Crystal Core Firearms, Ricky didn’t dare make any sudden moves.

He forced a smile and turned to them, trying to sound casual. “Officers, is there sothing I can help you with?”

“Huh?” One of the guards narrowed his eyes, clearly suspicious. The guy in front of him looked an awful lot like their target.

But Ricky was smiling, wearing a baseball cap pulled low over his face, and for a mont, the guard hesitated.

“Don’t move! Take off the hat—I wanna see your face.”

One of the guards stepped in, raising his weapon and pressing the barrel right against Ricky’s forehead—less than five inches away.

The cold tal of the gun, pulsing faintly with crystal core energy, radiated a deadly pressure.

If the guard so much as twitched his finger on the trigger, Ricky would be dead on the spot.

Having your life hanging by soone else’s finger—yeah, that feeling sucked.

Ricky’s mind boiled with rage, a dark pressure building behind his brow, but he kept his cool. Slowly, he reached up and took off the cap.

The two guards’ eyes widened the mont they saw his face.

“That’s him!”

But Ricky was faster.

In a flash, he grabbed the barrel of one guard’s gun.

The guard flinched, instinctively pulling the trigger.

Ricky twisted the weapon aside and ducked his head.

BOOM!

The explosion went off right next to his ear. The blast was deafening, like a grenade had gone off in his skull. His ears rang violently, his brain buzzing like a swarm of bees had taken up residence inside.

The two guards were just as stunned.

“Die, you bastard!”

Ricky didn’t waste a second. He whipped out a short blade and drove it straight into one of the guards’ chests.

Shhk!

He rembered what Ethan had taught him—go for the heart. The blade pierced clean through.

Steel in, blood out.

Warm blood sprayed across Ricky’s face, and another surge of rage pulsed through his forehead.

His expression twisted into sothing feral. Without pausing, he yanked the blade free and spun, slashing at the second guard’s throat.

The man barely managed to raise his arm in ti, and Ricky’s strike missed its mark—only slicing a shallow gash across his neck.

Still, it was enough to send the guard stumbling back, pale as a ghost, clutching his bleeding throat with both hands. Blood seeped through his fingers, dripping down his uniform.

“Help! Sobody help! I’m under attack!” the guard scread, panic in his voice.

Ricky glared at him, eyes burning with fury. His blade still dripped blood, and he looked ready to finish the job.

But the sound of approaching footsteps and shouting told him backup was closing in fast.

“Next ti, I’ll kill you for sure!”

He spat the words like venom, then turned and bolted, vanishing into a nearby alley.

He tore through the narrow, cluttered passage, knocking over trash cans and crates, sending cats and rats scattering in every direction. The place was a ss.

But overhead, a drone had already locked onto him, buzzing relentlessly above his head.

“Shit!”

Ricky cursed under his breath. He knew he wasn’t getting away—not really. All he could do now was buy ti.

“Should’ve asked Captain Dane for a damn Crystal Core Bomb. Could’ve taken these bastards with …”

He was still thinking when he hit a dead end—a brick wall blocking the alley.

But he didn’t stop.

Instead, he picked up speed, sprinted straight at the wall, took three quick steps up it, and launched himself into the air. One hand caught the top, and he vaulted clean over.

The second his feet hit the ground on the other side, dozens of tiny red dots lit up on his body.

Drones—dozens of them—hovered in the air, surrounding him.

And standing right in front of him was another City Guard, weapon raised, crystal core glowing.

He’d been waiting.

“Ugh…”

Ricky froze.

This was it. He was cornered—completely out of options.

“What’s the matter? Why’d you stop running?” the City Guard Captain sneered, stepping forward. “You’ve got so serious balls, releasing a zombie virus in the Inner City.”

Beside him stood a blonde woman with piercing blue eyes, dressed in a sleek black uniform—clearly an Enforcer.

“This guy doesn’t look like the mastermind,” she said, glancing at Ricky. “Orders from the top are to bring him in alive. We’ll squeeze the intel out of him back at HQ. Get ready to face judgnt.”

“No one… gets to judge !” Ricky growled, eyes burning with defiance. He’d co too far to care about living or dying anymore.

If he was going down, it sure as hell wouldn’t be in their hands.

“Kill!”

With a bloodstained blade in hand, Ricky charged straight at the City Guard, his thin fra like a moth hurling itself into fla.

Everyone watching knew—this wasn’t resistance. It was suicide.

“Hmph. You wanna die? That’d be too easy,” the Enforcer woman said coldly, raising her stun gun. “We’ll make you wish you were dead.”

She pulled the trigger.

Zzzap!

A bolt of crackling lightning energy slamd into Ricky’s chest.

“AAARGH—!”

His scream tore through the alley as his body convulsed violently, smoke curling off his skin.

But he didn’t fall.

Teeth clenched, eyes locked forward, Ricky forced his numb, twitching limbs to move—inch by inch, dragging himself toward them.

“I’ll… kill you…”

The woman raised an eyebrow, surprised. She’d seen her share of hardened criminals, but this guy? He was sothing else.

“Stubborn little freak,” she muttered, then pulled the trigger again.

Zzzzzap!

A second, stronger surge of lightning ripped through Ricky’s body.

“AAAAHHHH—!”

His scream was raw, animalistic—more beast than man. His skin cracked and blistered, blackened by the energy. The sll of burnt flesh filled the air.

He dropped to his knees, then collapsed face-first onto the ground, smoke rising from his body.

The rage inside him, the hatred, the pain—it all surged toward the center of his forehead like a storm.

Then everything went black.

He was out cold.

“Still too green to take on,” the Enforcer said with a smirk.

The City Guard Captain stepped closer, frowning. “Wait… I’m not picking up any vitals. You didn’t fry him, did you?”

“What? No way,” the woman said, confused.

Ricky lay motionless on the ground, his body scorched and smoking, not a single breath escaping him.

“Is he… actually dead?”

The guards exchanged uneasy glances.

“Let’s check,” the Captain ordered, waving his team forward.

“Got it.”

A squad of City Guards moved in cautiously, weapons raised, Crystal Core Firearms aid squarely at Ricky’s body.

The Enforcer followed, stepping up slowly. The closer they got, the stronger the stench of burnt flesh.

She covered her nose with one hand and crouched beside him, frowning as she checked his pulse.

Nothing.

“Seriously? He was putting up a hell of a fight just a second ago… Guess he couldn’t handle a little voltage,” she muttered, unimpressed.

But then—

Crack.

A faint sound ca from Ricky’s body.

“Wait… hold up.”

The woman’s eyes narrowed. Sothing was off.

Though unconscious, Ricky’s charred skin was starting to peel away—fast.

And underneath, the wounds were healing.

Right before their eyes.

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