The electric fence was at least seven or eight ters high. An ordinary person would never be able to get over it without tools. The seemingly endless fence stretched as far as the eye could see, as if soone had gone to great lengths to enclose the entire area.
The purpose was self-evident: they didn’t want them to leave this place. The group knew they had been set up.
The higher-ups had sent them on a mission to exterminate zombies, but they never intended for them to get out alive. Or perhaps they were afraid they’d get infected during the mission, so they decided to be thorough and let them perish along with the monsters of Y City.
Lex Cross shook his head and let out a faint smile.
’Who else but my so-called father would have the power and audacity to expend so much manpower and resources to seal off an entire city district?’
’Is he that desperate to let that woman’s son take over?’
’The original owner of this body, Lex Adler, was murdered by his own father and stepmother. How tragic. It’s precisely because this Lex Adler died that I, Lex Cross, was able to use his identity to survive on this planet.’
He suddenly thought of his own dear older brother—not born of the sa mother, yet doted on by their father. ’If my mother’s family hadn’t been so powerful, would she and I have t an untily end long ago, just like this Lex Adler?’
Perhaps it was this shared plight that led him, upon first arriving on Earth, to promise the dying Lex Adler he would beco him and avenge him.
He was not the original Lex Adler. He was Lex Cross, the War God of the mightiest Star Nation, a hair’s breadth away from ascending to the rank of ’The Strongest.’ Even with his power suppressed, he would never let himself be killed by such a crude sche from a re earthling.
"Bring the car over. We’ll head to Phoenix City first to regroup, then we’ll look for this professor. It’s not far from Phoenix City to Sinia City."
"Boss, do we really have to go? Why don’t we wait until our strength recovers, find the materials, and fix the thrusters? Then we can go back!"
Five couldn’t help but complain to Lex Cross. He really didn’t want to stay in this backward hellhole. His power was so suppressed he wanted to cry, and he had to constantly fight these inferior waste-slaves that earthlings called zombies.
He sniffed himself in disgust, his brow furrowed. He had never slled this bad before. He hadn’t showered in days!
"Your cultivation levels are too low to sense it. This Earth... is truly... interesting." Although Lex Cross spoke with a deadpan expression, his eyes glittered with amusent.
This planet had a peculiar law: the stronger a person was, the more their power would be suppressed. His own original strength was so imnse that it had been reduced to less than a tenth of its forr glory here.
But every cloud has a silver lining. He found he could actually absorb the energy on this planet, causing a slight loosening in his cultivation realm, which had been stagnant for a very long ti.
"Boss, that Lex Adler was already murdered by his own father. We don’t need to waste our ti here."
A glint flashed in Lex Cross’s eyes. Though it was just a casual glance at the speaking Five, it was enough to make Five shut his mouth and lower his head obediently.
"When in Ro, do as the Romans do. Since we can’t go back anyti soon, this identity is convenient for settling down on this planet. Say no more."
"When can we go ho? I wonder if we even won that war." Two n with identical faces sighed lancholically. The two weakest brothers in their squad had already fallen in this damned place. Now, the two of them were the weakest left. They really didn’t want to die on such a backward planet.
"Civet, The Crown Prince, you two really know how to bring up a sore subject! Without the Boss, how could that bunch of small-fry win? If that bastard, the Young Master, hadn’t frad the Boss, would we have ended up stranded in a backward place like this?"
"It’s because our powers are suppressed now! Otherwise, how could these inferior waste-slaves possibly harm us!"
Lex Cross listened to his brothers’ back-and-forth complaints without saying much. He had to find a way to recover his strength quickly. This world was not as primitive as they imagined; he could faintly sense sothing pulling the strings behind everything that was happening.
"Otherwise, Finn and Hero wouldn’t have died here." Finn and Hero were their brothers who had co to Earth with them, only to be killed by the zombies here.
To prevent them from turning into those hideous, inferior waste-slaves, it was Lex Cross who had personally destroyed them completely.
"Boss, I just can’t accept this!"
Lex Cross gazed at the dim sky, his expression serene. ’Who would have thought that my normally gentle, good-for-nothing older brother actually possessed such strength.’
’No matter where you are, strength is always one’s most fundantal necessity.’
Lex Cross stared at the sky, as if peering through it to so other place in another ti and space.
"Brother, it seems I’ve been too rciful to you all."
..................
「anwhile, on Flora Bloom’s side.」
Once out of the city, Flora Bloom, Neal Wallace, rvin Warren, and Ethan Monroe got out of the car.
The four of them walked along a small road outside the city for a long while before finally reaching a toll booth on a rural-urban passway.
The daily traffic there was extrely light. Most of the ti, only drivers of large trucks illegally smuggling goods would choose to pass through here in the early morning or late at night.
At this mont, there were only two vehicles at the tollway. A Japanese "crispy-skinned" car was parked crookedly on the roadside, while a Volvo was stopped at the toll gate, its driver apparently having been in the middle of paying the toll when the outbreak happened.
Flora Bloom and the others cautiously approached the Volvo.
The Volvo was a mid-to-high-end car in its class, its most prominent feature being its incredibly sturdy fra. If a Japanese or Korean car of the sa size were to collide with it, they would be dented beyond recognition.
The Volvo, on the other hand, would at most suffer a slight deformation at the point of impact, a testant to its durability. A car like this perfectly t Flora Bloom’s current criteria.
The toll station had only one entrance and exit. One booth was empty, but at the one where the Volvo was stopped, a woman was snarling and ramming against the booth’s glass window.
The driver’s seat of the Volvo was empty. There was a child’s car seat in the back, but it was empty as well.
After scanning the area and finding no other threats, Flora Bloom was the first to open the car door and slip into the driver’s seat. Neal Wallace quickly got into the passenger seat, leaving the back for Ethan Monroe and rvin Warren.
The keys were still in the ignition. The driver must not have had ti to take them, much to Flora Bloom’s convenience.
After driving for an hour, they stopped to refuel at a small gas station on the outskirts of the city. Flora Bloom killed the three zombies inside with her axe, then found several fuel cans in the station’s lounge. She filled them with gasoline and diesel and stored them in her space for future use.
Everything was going smoothly.
As dusk fell, Flora Bloom found an empty country lane and parked the car on the side. She then took out the leftover takeout from her space and handed it to Neal Wallace and the other two.
Ethan Monroe couldn’t stop marveling at how convenient and useful Flora Bloom’s space was—it even kept food warm!—while stuffing his face, his mouth glistening with grease.
Suddenly, Ethan Monroe let out a strange cry, startling Flora Bloom and Neal Wallace.
"What the hell was that? How dare you attack Lord Monroe!"
As Ethan Monroe spoke, his large, fat hand shot out, grabbed sothing, and yanked. A small boy was dragged out from the gap between the back seat and the trunk.
Seeing he was caught, the little boy panicked and bit down on Ethan Monroe’s wrist.
"AHH! It’s over, it’s over! I’ve been bitten by a zombie! Flora Bloom, save !"
Seeing this, Flora Bloom, with her quick reflexes, was about to swing her axe when Neal Wallace shouted at her to stop.
"Wait! I think it’s a child. Not a zombie."
Flora Bloom turned on the car’s interior light and looked. Sure enough, it was a little boy with fair, tender skin, looking to be about six or seven years old. He was currently staring fiercely at the food in Ethan Monroe’s hands.
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