Chris and Henry moved fast, intercepting the wave of zombies charging toward Ethan. With the pressure off, Ethan could finally focus on the Tier 4.
He touched his shoulder, wincing. That last swipe had gone deep—bone-deep. His left arm was already going numb, fingers barely responding.
Then the Tier 4 lunged again.
Ethan gritted his teeth, grabbed his barbell bar with his good arm, and swung it in a brutal horizontal arc.
BOOM.
The blow landed square in the zombie’s chest. Ribs cracked like dry twigs, and the force sent the creature flying a good thirty feet before it crashed to the ground in a heap.
But broken bones didn’t an much to the undead. It twitched, then rose again, slower this ti, eyes locked on Ethan.
It didn’t charge right away. Instead, it circled, wary now.
Ethan stood his ground, barbell bar resting on his shoulder, watching it right back.
Then, just as Ethan let his gaze flick away—baiting it—the Tier 4 snapped.
It lunged.
Ethan’s lips curled into a grin.
He pivoted and swung the barbell bar in a tight, vicious arc straight for its head.
The zombie reacted fast, throwing up a hand to block—but Ethan’s strength was overwhelming. The bar crushed through its defense, snapping its arm at the elbow with a sickening crunch.
It didn’t even flinch.
Its other hand lashed out, claws raking across Ethan’s chest. His shirt shredded, and deep, bloody gouges opened across his ribs, bone visible beneath the torn flesh.
Ethan roared in pain but didn’t back down. He drove a boot into the zombie’s gut, sending it staggering, then raised the barbell bar again and brought it down like a hamr.
CRACK.
The blow was ant for the head, but the zombie twisted at the last second. The bar slamd into its shoulder instead, driving it to the ground.
Ethan didn’t hesitate. As it scrambled to rise, he stepped in and brought the bar down again—this ti, dead center on its skull.
BOOM.
Blood and bone exploded outward. Even a Tier 4’s reinforced skull couldn’t withstand over two thousand pounds of force. Its head caved in like a lon under a sledgehamr.
Ethan exhaled, chest heaving. Then he dropped to one knee and dug into the remains, fingers closing around sothing hard and smooth.
He pulled it free—a crystal core, peanut-sized and gleaming with a faint, eerie light.
A grin broke across his blood-sared face.
Chris and Henry jogged over, having just finished off the last of the stragglers. They saw the core in Ethan’s hand and lit up.
"Hell yeah!" Chris whooped. "Eat it! Let’s see what Tier 4 Ethan looks like."
Ethan nodded, still catching his breath. Then he popped the core into his mouth and swallowed.
The effect was imdiate.
A surge of raw energy flooded his body, like lightning in his veins. In his mind’s eye, the constellation map flared to life—and the fourth point of the first star finally lit up.
Power roared through him, deeper and heavier than anything he’d felt before. His muscles tightened, bones thrumd, and the pain in his shoulder dulled under the rush.
When it finally settled, Ethan flexed his fingers, then clenched his fists.
"About three thousand pounds of force," he said, smiling.
"Damn," Henry laughed. "You could probably flip a truck now."
"Wouldn’t be surprised," Ethan said. "Co on. Let’s check the supermarket."
They stepped inside—and imdiately stopped.
The place was a slaughterhouse.
Bodies were everywhere—zombies and humans alike, limbs twisted, blood pooling across the tile. Of the hundred-plus people who’d taken shelter here, barely a dozen were still alive, huddled behind overturned shelves, fighting for their lives.
And among the seventy or so zombies still inside, two of them were Tier 3s.
That explained the massacre. Those two had probably torn through the survivors like wolves in a henhouse.
The mont the survivors saw Ethan’s group enter, their eyes lit up with hope—until they recognized who it was.
Ethan. Chris. Henry.
The "bandits."
Their expressions faltered. So opened their mouths to call for help, but the words caught in their throats.
Asking these three for help? The sa guys who’d robbed other survivor teams blind?
They weren’t sure if they’d be saved—or stripped clean.
Sean stood there, bloodied and bruised, watching Ethan, Chris, and Henry carve through the horde like it was nothing. His expression was hard to read—part pride, part regret, and a whole lot of quiet defeat.
Once, they’d been teammates. The first team, in fact. They’d fought side by side, killed more zombies than they could count. Back then, he’d thought they were equals.
But now?
Now, he was barely holding on, backed into a corner by a second-rate crew that had already fallen apart. anwhile, Ethan’s trio—just three people—could walk into a battlefield and make everyone else look like amateurs.
That was the difference.
That was the gap.
He hadn’t wanted to ask for help. His pride had teeth. But one look at Big Mike and Skinny Pete—both barely conscious, bleeding out on the floor—and he swallowed it.
He turned to Ethan, jaw tight. "Ethan... help us. Just this once. You save us, and our lives are yours. No questions. No conditions."
Ethan blinked, finally noticing who was among the survivors. He’d been too focused on the fight to recognize faces.
"Chris, Henry," he said, voice casual, "let’s go grab those two Tier 3 cores first."
The three of them moved like a wrecking crew, charging into the remaining zombies with brutal efficiency. Ethan’s barbell bar swept through the horde like a scythe through wheat—every swing left a trail of shattered skulls and broken bodies.
Chris and Henry flanked him, cutting down anything that got too close. Pumpkin darted between legs, claws flashing, finishing off stragglers.
One of the Tier 3 zombies finally noticed the real threat and lunged at them—only to get its skull caved in by Ethan before it even landed. Chris knelt and plucked the crystal core from the corpse like he was picking fruit.
In less than five minutes, the supermarket was cleared. Seventy-plus zombies, gone.
They pocketed the Tier 3 and Tier 2 cores. The Tier 1s? Not worth the weight.
The survivors—what was left of them—watched in stunned silence. Eyes locked on the glowing cores being tucked away. Hunger and envy written all over their faces.
Those two Tier 3 cores alone could push soone straight to Tier 3. And right now, there were maybe three known Tier 3 Awakened in the entire school. Most people were stuck at the peak of Tier 2, unable to break through—not because they lacked the will, but because Tier 3 zombies were damn near impossible to kill.
Not just because they were strong. But because they never traveled alone.
And now, right in front of them, two Tier 3 cores had been taken like candy from a shelf. No one dared move. No one even breathed too loud.
They wanted to fight for them. God, they wanted to. But these three? They were monsters. There wasn’t even a sliver of hope.
Sean limped forward, dragging his battered body across the blood-slick floor. He stopped in front of Ethan, breathing hard.
"Ethan," he said, voice low but steady. "Thank you."
Then, more quietly, "I owe you my life. If you’ll have , I’m yours. Whatever you need—no hesitation, no second thoughts."
Ethan looked at him for a long mont, unreadable.
He did need teammates. That much was clear. But his original plan had been to only take Awakened with abilities. No exceptions.
But after everything they’d seen these past few days, he’d co to terms with reality—Awakened with powers weren’t exactly growing on trees. And even if they were, not all of them made good teammates. So were arrogant. So were cowards. So just didn’t sh.
Sean, Big Mike, and Skinny Pete—they weren’t flashy. They didn’t have powers. But they’d fought beside him before. And when it ca to facing down death, they hadn’t flinched.
Their falling out had been ssy, sure. But they’d never betrayed him. Never tried to screw him over. And in this world, that counted for a hell of a lot.
Ethan’s expression softened. He stepped forward and held out a hand.
"Welco back," he said with a grin.
...
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