Wrath sighed while Kelvin listened halfheartedly. He didn't feel the compulsion to come to Icon's rescue at all. Maybe it was because he didn't have anything good to say about Icon himself and that he thinks that what the world thinks of Icon is better than what he thinks, or maybe it is because he doesn't care about what they think of Icon.
He doesn't even care what others think of himself , so he can't muster enough concern for Icon's disastrous reputation. That aside, he believes that everyone has a right to dunk on Icon.
Things are so bad currently that wealthy narco bosses have to move their hired help in armored vehicles. Ordinary people who can't afford armored vehicles have to live in cities, but city life is expensive and there is limited space.
They have been increasing the height of skyscrapers and pushing the limit of how tall a building can be, but it is never going to be enough. This means some have to live outside a city at the risk of incursions.
These people that have to live outside add to the number of incursion zombies and make living outside more dangerous by the day. At this point, only underground spaces and bunkers are safe for anyone to live in.
He asked Wrath, "Why do the zombies not swarm the cities?"
His present company thought the question was for them, so they tried to answer it. Their answers were failures. All they could say was that the corpos had a secret method for keeping their cities safe.
This led to an argument as to what the secret method could be and why the corpos haven't taken full advantage of it to create more cities. The argument became heated when someone began calling others stupid.
Meanwhile, Wrath replied, "They fear demigods. Despite the lack of a conscious mind, these zombies know instinctively to fear the territory of an apex being."
That confirmed his suspicions. But he didn't enlighten the other villains with this information. Not that it would have helped. Even if it could, he prefered to watch them argue with each other.
His bus remained loud until they were attacked. It was a flying creature. It was large and had the flesh and colorful rocks hybridization that marked it out as an incursion zombie.
It looked like it might have been a duck before. It had a large and flat yellow bill that ducks should have. But it has grown too large to be a duck. Someone joked that it hadn't become too aggressive for a duck.
They laughed at the joke, which helped dispel the hostile atmosphere that the argument was creating. They didn't really care about the giant zombie duck because it couldn't do anything to them. They were in an armored vehicle after all.
But the duck didn't give up. It continued to harass them until they reached their destination. Someone had to shoot it down before peace and quiet could return. Their attention was quickly shifted to their destination.
It was a walled property. The walls were made of large slabs of brown earth made to stand together. Some parts of the wall were new, and some were old.
A lot of the slabs were broken either due to acts of man or random spatial tears caused by the incursion. They were easy to tell apart. Entry points forcefully created by men resulted in chunks of earth with the same color. But those created by the incursion had chunks of earth of various colors.
The incursion always made it look like the resulting debris didn't come from the same source. For one, there were some parts missing. Secondly, there were some new parts. And finally, the parts present wouldn't fit to form the earthen slab.
One thing of note that the walls possessed were turrets. They shot at anything that got too close to the walls. These being the incursion zombies. They ensured that the zombies didn't flood into the encampment through the breaks in the wall.
There was a gate made into the walls. It was pulled apart so that they could pass through. They could finally see what they were fighting for.
It was a large farm. They could see vine plants extend far into the distance. There were also workers tending to the plants and harvesting from them.
At a glance, it looked like a vineyard. Just a peaceful vineyard in the apocalypse with hard-working men and women doing their best to survive in hard times. But then one would notice that the eyes of the workers were glazed. There is also the fact that their movements are mechanical.
These phenomena combined with their hargard, thin, malnourished look and the rags they are wearing for clothes might clue a bystander into the fact that this farm is more than it seems.
Kelvin saw all of these and didn't look twice at the subhumans working on the farm. He did wonder briefly who was in a poorer state—they or the incursion zombies that have lost their minds—but most of his mind was on the type of gun that he would get soon.
Wrath, on the other hand, couldn't feel the pleasure of a good weapon in its hands. It could only look and not touch. It made it fixate on the sight of the men and women slaving away day and night on the farm without any pay.
It observed solemnly, "Humanity is capable of so many atrocities. It makes me wonder if there was anything worth saving."
Kelvin shrugged. "There is no evil going on here. I am sure that they are here of their free will. I am even willing to bet that they will return here at all costs if you move them to somewhere you consider better."
He is not a gambler, but he knows it is a safe bet to make. This is despite the dangers of living outside a city.
He continued, "Besides, their situation might not be so bad. Existence is war. It is a constant struggle for survival. But they are having the best time of their lives right now. One might say they are experiencing heaven on earth. I don't know if that is such a bad thing."