Apocalypse: King of Zombies-Chapter 642: [100%...]

The Crimson Count’s eyes locked onto Mia. This girl—this fragile human—was the last line of defense. Maybe her crystal core could make up for what he’d lost.

His body crackled with energy, muscles twitching beneath his skin. The once-handsome face twisted, veins bulging as he shifted into his battle form.

A thick, suffocating aura of bloodlust began to seep from him, radiating the terrifying power of a body pushed to its absolute peak.

Then came the pressure—an overwhelming force that slammed into the battlefield like a mountain crashing down. It was crushing, inescapable.

Everyone watching felt a jolt of fear, like a razor-sharp spike hovering just above their brows, ready to plunge down at any second.

"The Crimson Count... is he finally getting serious?"

"That aura... it’s insane..."

"Can Mia even survive this?"

"..."

The crowd stared, breath caught in their throats. No one dared to speak too loud. This fight—this moment—was everything.

Then, without warning, The Crimson Count moved.

No, he vanished.

One second he was there, the next—gone. His speed had already surpassed the limits of human perception.

Mia’s eyes narrowed, locking onto the blur. What was coming at her wasn’t a man—it was a force of nature, a rampaging juggernaut.

Her Stellar Fang katana flared to life, crackling with lightning, glowing like a star. She raised it high and brought it down with all her strength.

"Vrrrmmm—"

The air itself seemed to split apart under the force of her strike.

But to her shock, The Crimson Count didn’t dodge. Didn’t block. He just kept coming, claws outstretched.

His talons tore into Mia’s shoulder, ripping through flesh—but at the same time, her blade slashed across his chest, lightning searing into him.

Neither of them held back. No defense. Just raw, brutal offense. A trade of pain for pain.

Blood burst from Mia’s shoulder, spraying into the air like a crimson fountain. Agony exploded through her body, and the pain meter on her wristband spiked.

[91%]

The Crimson Count’s chest was split open—but the wound was already closing. The regenerative power of the Vampire Race was monstrous. In the blink of an eye, he was whole again.

Mia’s eyes narrowed. That wasn’t what she expected.

But he didn’t give her time to think. His other hand curled into a fist and slammed toward her chest. The sheer force of it made the air scream, sonic booms echoing in its wake.

Mia threw up her arm to block.

CRACK!

The impact was brutal. Her arm bent at an unnatural angle, bones snapping. The blow sent her flying like she’d been hit by a freight train. She crashed to the ground, skidding across the dirt like a ragdoll.

[96%]

She lay there, bloodied and broken, gasping for breath.

The Crimson Count stood tall, barely scratched, his clothes torn but his body untouched. He looked down at her like she was nothing.

"Human bodies are just too weak," he said coldly. "Even at your limit, you’re no match for me."

And the pain meter kept climbing.

Because Mia wasn’t just injured—she was infected.

The virus inside The Crimson Count wasn’t ordinary. It was a mutated strain, vicious and overwhelming.

[97%]

[98%]

[99%]

"..."

She was seconds away from the edge.

The Crimson Count’s lips curled into a cruel smile.

"When your body finally gives out... you’ll belong to me."

The virus surged through her, tearing her apart from the inside. Wave after wave of searing pain crashed over her.

The pain meter ticked up again.

[100%...]

"Mia’s not gonna last much longer!"

"Yeah, The Crimson Count’s just too damn strong!"

"Hey! Ethan said if it got too bad, she was supposed to fall back!"

"..."

Sean was in the crowd, shouting at the top of his lungs. Even he, dense as he could be sometimes, could tell this fight was way beyond anything they’d faced before.

But then Mia did something no one saw coming.

She looked down at the triple-digit number flashing on her wristband—something no one had ever reached—and with her other hand, she grabbed the device and clenched her fist.

Crack!

The sound was sharp, final. The pain monitor shattered in her grip, shards of crystal scattering through the blood-soaked air like falling snow.

"If my body can’t take it... then I’ll break through with willpower alone."

Mia staggered to her feet, blood swirling around her like a storm. The ground beneath her cracked and trembled from the sheer force radiating off her.

Her broken arm twitched once—then snapped back into place with a sickening pop, bones knitting together in seconds.

Because when the pain hits 100%, that’s when she’s at her strongest.

And now, her ultimate strike was ready to be unleashed.

The Crimson Count narrowed his eyes. Through the swirling blood mist, he saw her—Mia, small and battered, walking toward him with her katana dragging at her side, her silhouette flickering like a shadow torn from hell itself.

She looked like a demon.

"...Is she insane?" he muttered, genuinely thrown off. For the first time, he wasn’t sure who the real monster was.

Then she moved.

A blur. A storm. A force of nature.

She charged, and the ground exploded beneath her feet, the shockwaves tearing through the battlefield. Everything in her path was obliterated, reduced to dust by the raw energy she unleashed.

The Crimson Count’s expression hardened. He couldn’t afford to hold back.

Blood surged around him, his power condensing into a single point at his fist. He locked onto her and threw a punch with everything he had, aiming straight for her heart.

But Mia didn’t dodge.

She didn’t block.

She didn’t even flinch.

Her katana flashed, lightning dancing along the blade, and she swung it straight for his throat.

BOOM!

SHHHING—

The two attacks landed at the exact same moment.

His fist slammed into her forehead with a bone-shattering crack, the sound of her crystal core fracturing echoing like glass breaking under pressure.

But her blade—her blade sliced clean through his neck.

The Crimson Count froze.

For a moment, it was like time stopped.

Then, three seconds later, his head tilted... and fell.

Thud.

His body collapsed, headless, blood gushing from the stump of his neck.

Mia was flung backward by the impact, her body sailing over 300 feet before crashing into the ground like a broken doll.

She lay there, eyes wide, staring up at the sky. Her body was falling apart. Her life force was slipping away.

"Did... did we both go down again?"

"Mia! Get up! Please!"

"Mia... sob... don’t leave us..."

"..."

The crowd stood frozen, watching in stunned silence. Somewhere in the back, someone began to cry, the sound raw and broken.

But then—something happened.

Something that shattered everything they thought they knew.

On the battlefield, The Crimson Count’s headless corpse began to twitch.

From the severed neck, thick, crimson blood oozed upward—alive, writhing, like it had a mind of its own. It reached for the fallen head, tendrils of blood wrapping around it, pulling it back.

The two halves connected.

And then... fused.

The wound sealed itself, smooth and seamless, as if it had never been cut.

His eyes flicked open.

And then—he stood up.

"...Persistent bastard," he muttered, rolling his neck with a series of loud cracks, his hand casually rubbing the spot where his head had just been reattached.

The humans watching were stunned into silence.

"What the hell..."

"He’s alive?! The Crimson Count’s still alive?!"

"How is that even possible?!"

"..."

Behind him, the horde of zombies let out a deafening roar, a tidal wave of snarls and howls that shook the earth.

Their king had risen again.

And the nightmare wasn’t over.

...