The battle was over, and Ethan stood victorious.
"Haha, are you insane? You think you can take down our supply depot with your bare hands?"
The warehouse supervisor sneered, believing Ethan and his group to be fools. Flesh and blood against firearms? It was laughable. Everyone knew the saying: "A gun is fast at seven paces; within seven paces, it's swift and deadly."
"It seems you're not willing to cooperate. I hate that it's come to this, but in these times, it's necessary."
Ethan sighed, his goal clear: protect the food supplies.
"Everyone fall back, let me handle this on my own."
Ethan's expression was resolute. He didn't want others to suffer for his decisions. In this new world, where danger lurked at every corner, the intelligent had to adapt quickly.
The others in Ethan's group felt a pang of discomfort. They were all humans, after all. If these people joined their shelter, it would bolster their strength.
The warehouse staff watched Ethan, bemused. Was he mad? Talking as if they were on the same side?
But in the next instant, Ethan was right in front of them, as quick as a shadow. He grabbed the warehouse supervisor by the throat, lifting him effortlessly.
"I'll give you one more chance. Join our shelter. We take food not just to survive, but to fight the zombies, reclaim fallen areas, and rebuild human civilization."
Ethan's voice was firm, yet pleading.
"Haha, rebuild human civilization? Do you know how many people have died? How many were eaten by the zombies? The military, the government—everything's been destroyed. We're just struggling to survive here."
The supervisor's voice was filled with despair.
"So what? As long as humans live, we can rebuild. Lost knowledge and technology can be rediscovered."
Ethan was dissatisfied with the man's defeatist attitude, but he understood where it came from.
"We've established a ten-kilometer safe zone around our shelter. With everyone's effort, we can eliminate the zombies eventually."
The supervisor laughed bitterly. "But did you know that zombies can reproduce?"
Ethan froze for a moment.
"Have you seen it?"
"Yes. Ordinary zombies can evolve. Lickers can reproduce, and so can other evolved types. Ordinary zombies are just food for them."
The supervisor explained, helplessly.
"So what? Zombies get stronger, but so do humans."
David, Ethan's right-hand man, retorted.
At that moment, a Licker, attracted by the noise and the scent of humans, saw the trucks and thanked whatever dark gods it worshipped.
David charged at the Licker, pinning it down and smashing its head with a single blow. He dragged the corpse back to the warehouse staff.
"See? Lickers aren't invincible. Once we restart weapon production and move forward steadily, we'll wipe them out."
David's words, backed by his display of strength, boosted everyone's morale. With Ethan by their side, they felt safe.
The warehouse supervisor hesitated, then asked, "Can I become that strong?"
"Of course!" David answered confidently.
"Alright, I'll join you," the supervisor decided, and the others followed suit. They knew they wouldn't survive without joining.
Ethan was relieved. The more people joined, the better their chances of preserving human civilization.
The survivors in the Jinhai warehouse totaled around 100 people, including over 50 strong men, women, and children.
Just as they started loading the food onto the trucks, they heard the roar of an approaching vehicle.
Another group of survivors, drawn by the food shortage, had arrived at the warehouse. When they saw Ethan's group already loading supplies, the leader immediately fired his submachine gun into the air.
Bang, bang, bang.
The gunfire drew everyone's attention. Ethan walked over to face them.
He saw a large truck and about thirty or forty people, armed with rifles and submachine guns—likely the spoils from an armory.
The leader, Jason, barked out, "Stop! All of you! This food belongs to the Jinhai shelter. If you don't want to die, leave now—and leave the trucks!"
Jinhai Shelter? Ethan had never heard of it, but the warehouse supervisor recognized it. It was a wartime shelter, converted from an old nuclear bunker. Apparently, someone had activated it.
Ethan sighed. He didn't want to kill the warehouse staff, and now another group had shown up, ready to die.
"With those peashooters, you won't get far. I've got a better idea: why don't you and your Jinhai Shelter join our Central Shelter?"
Ethan smiled, trying to seem approachable, but his aura was drenched in the blood of nearly 100,000 zombies killed over the past month.
Jason was startled. Did this man crawl out of a pit of corpses?
But in this era, hot weapons still ruled.
"Central Shelter? I've heard of it, but I never had the chance to find you. Looks like I'm lucky today. I hope your shelter has supplies—we're short on clothes and ingredients."
Jason sneered, pointing his submachine gun at Ethan. If anything went wrong, he'd shoot. No matter how tough the man was, he couldn't survive a hail of bullets.
"It seems we're at an impasse."
Ethan realized that Jason wouldn't surrender unless he saw overwhelming power. And from Jason's aura, Ethan could tell he wasn't a good person—his hands were stained with blood.
In that case, Ethan decided to end it quickly.
Ethan stomped the ground, and in an instant, he was flying toward Jason like a cannonball, kicking up a cloud of dust.
Jason, sensing danger, screamed, "Fire! Kill him!"
But before he finished, he was already airborne.
The others fired their rifles at Ethan, thinking they could take down the monster. After all, neither Lickers nor other advanced zombies could withstand such firepower.
But the bullets were useless against Ethan, barely leaving a mark on his skin.
Ethan had considered giving them a chance to surrender, but their cries of "monster" sealed their fate.
They scrambled to the trucks, desperate to escape.
But Ethan wouldn't let them go. The Jinhai Shelter likely had many survivors and plenty of hot weapons—valuable tools in the fight against zombies.
In the cab of one truck, Zhao, the second-in-command, saw his leader killed effortlessly, and that their weapons were useless.
He desperately tried to drive away, thinking Ethan couldn't catch up to the truck.
But no matter how hard he pressed the gas, the truck didn't move.
"Come on, drive! If we don't leave now, he'll kill us all!"
The others shouted in panic, but Zhao was already sweating bullets, knowing escape might not be possible.