Apocalypse: King of Zombies-Chapter 1180: I’m Counting to Three

When the guard jogged inside to report, the corner of Ethan’s mouth lifted.

Good. At least you know when to quit.

The guards left outside still stared at Ethan and Skinny Pete with open suspicion.

Mainly because the distance from Clearford City to Goldcrest City was insane. In the apocalypse, it was hard to believe anyone could cross that kind of gap and show up here alive.

"You two are really from Clearford City?"

Ethan rolled his eyes and didn’t bother answering.

If he wasn’t worried about Skinny Pete’s parents—and if he didn’t want to start a fight the moment they arrived—he would’ve just forced his way in. He didn’t have time to stand here and chat.

The guard frowned at Ethan’s attitude.

In Goldcrest City, government and military personnel naturally saw themselves as a cut above regular survivors—even above most Enhanced. Having an Enhanced act this arrogant right in front of him rubbed him the wrong way.

Still, since these two might actually be the people "up top" had mentioned, the guards swallowed their annoyance.

So everyone just stood there and waited.

Not long after, the guard who’d gone to report came running back out. He leaned in and whispered something to the others.

The remaining guards’ eyes lit up. Then they looked at Ethan and Skinny Pete with cold, amused smiles.

"You claim you’re from Clearford City," the lead guard said. "Where’s your proof?"

"I’ve got it."

Ethan reached into his pocket and pulled out a letter General Cross had given him yesterday.

Originally, it was meant for this compound’s commander—Leonard Hale. But since they couldn’t even get through the gate, Ethan had no choice but to use it as evidence first.

The guards snatched it, tore it open on the spot, skimmed it for a second—

Then ripped it in half.

"Who knows who wrote this?" the guard said, tossing the pieces like trash. "This isn’t proof of anything."

Ethan’s expression dropped into something flat and dangerous.

Yeah... someone’s trying to stir trouble.

"I suggest you stop playing with fire," Ethan said coldly. "You won’t be able to handle the consequences."

He didn’t believe this was a misunderstanding. General Cross had clearly coordinated with them. The fact that they’d "reported" it and still came back like this meant they had other plans.

Whatever those plans were... if they pushed him too far, they were the ones getting burned.

"Oh?" The guards sneered. "You’re pretty tough."

"I don’t care where you’re from or how strong you think you are," the lead guard said. "This is Goldcrest City. If you come here, you follow Goldcrest City’s rules. No proof? Then you’re not entering this compound."

Ethan’s voice went quiet. "And if I’m going in anyway?"

"You can try."

"I will."

Thud—!

A dull impact rang out.

The guard who’d been talking was launched backward like he’d been hit by a truck, crashing onto the ground more than thirty feet away.

"!!!"

"You bastards—how dare you hit a guard!"

The other guards exploded with fury, instantly closing in around Ethan and Skinny Pete.

People nearby noticed the commotion and turned to look. Heads popped up everywhere like prairie dogs.

"Holy shit—who’s that insane? He actually hit a gate guard!"

"Two strangers. Never seen them before. Probably not from this compound."

"They’re done for. Seriously."

A squad of patrol soldiers spotted the situation and sprinted over, quickly surrounding Ethan and Skinny Pete.

"Back off," Ethan said, voice like ice.

"You beat someone and you’re still acting tough?" the patrol leader barked. "Arrest them!"

A bunch of soldiers rushed in to grab them.

Only...

Bam bam bam—!

A string of heavy, body-on-body impacts sounded out.

In a blink, dozens of patrol soldiers were down on the ground, groaning and struggling to get up.

Everyone’s eyes went wide.

Most of them hadn’t even seen what happened. They just heard fists landing—then watched Tier 6 patrol soldiers fold like paper.

"Holy shit... what Tier are those two? That’s brutal!"

"At least Tier 7. Maybe Tier 8!" someone guessed.

"Damn. No wonder they’re cocky. But beating up government people inside the compound? Even a Tier 8 Enhanced would get killed for that."

"Who cares?" another person said, practically gleeful. "As long as it’s entertaining."

The commotion at the gate quickly alarmed the people inside. More and more soldiers rushed over, and in no time the entrance was packed so tight you could barely see the ground.

At the same time, the heavy machine guns on the wall swung around, their barrels settling on Ethan and Skinny Pete.

"Who gave you the guts to start something inside the compound?" A middle-aged man pushed through from the rear, glaring at them.

"Damn—Major Colin Keller, the Deputy Provost Marshal, is here!"

"Did he just happen to be nearby, or did he come on purpose?"

"Probably coincidence. Major Keller’s usually slammed—no way he’d make a special trip for two guys."

"Not necessarily. If they’re Tier 8 Enhanced, him showing up personally makes sense."

"True."

Ethan sized the man up, then spoke in a voice that was all ice.

"The fact they’re still alive is the last bit of patience I’m giving you. I’m counting to three. If you don’t clear a path, don’t blame me when people start dying."

Colin snorted. "Hah. Arrogant. Arrest them!"

Hundreds of soldiers surged forward at once.

"Some people just love looking for death," Ethan said, shaking his head. "Fine. Don’t say I didn’t warn you."

He stepped in and drove a brutal kick into the first soldier in the front line.

The man’s body snapped backward—organs shattered—flying into the crowd and bowling over a whole swath of people behind him.

Skinny Pete followed with a sweeping leg strike that sent another cluster of soldiers tumbling like dominoes.

Against a mob of hundreds, neither of them even bothered with weapons or abilities.

Just kicks. One kick, a pile of bodies.

Panicked Enhanced in the crowd started firing off powers—fireballs, wind cutters, ice spikes—everything they had.

Ethan and Skinny Pete didn’t even dodge.

They just waved their hands and slapped the attacks apart like they were batting away bugs.

The spectators went slack-jawed.

"Holy... they’re really strong. No wonder they dared to act like this."

Colin’s eyes narrowed. He gave a cold huff—and his right arm suddenly turned metallic, sheen spreading over his skin like poured steel.

He clenched his fist and launched himself at Ethan.

As Deputy Provost Marshal, Colin’s position alone made people fear him.

And at peak Tier 8, with a metal-type ability, his combat power was comparable to Tier 9.

Under a hundred anxious stares, Colin’s metal fist rocketed toward Ethan’s head.

Ethan lifted one hand.

Casually.

He caught the punch.

No dramatic struggle. No forced stance. Just... stopped it.

Colin tried to push through, veins standing out, but his arm wouldn’t move even an inch.

Ethan looked him over like he was barely worth the time, then tightened his grip.

In front of everyone, Colin’s metal arm started to deform—crumpling under Ethan’s fingers.

"Aaah—!" Colin screamed, trying to yank free.

He couldn’t.

Pop.

A soft, sickening sound.

Colin’s entire arm burst apart, turning into a spray of blood that vanished into the air.

"!!!"

The gate area froze in collective shock.

At the top floor of the tallest building inside the compound, Leonard and a young man stood at the window with binoculars, watching the situation unfold.

Seeing that, both of them frowned.

"Tier 9?" the young man muttered.

"Maybe higher," Leonard said quietly.

He lowered the binoculars. "Send someone. Invite them in."

"Yes, sir."

After the young man hurried off, Leonard kept staring at the distant gate, a sharp light gathering in his eyes.