In the next instant, it was as if someone had hurled him against the wall with an unseen force. His body crashed violently, the impact reverberating throughout the space.
Thud!
A lifeless body slumped to the ground, limp and motionless.
What kind of sorcery was this?
The crowd stood frozen in shock, their eyes wide with terror. One by one, they retreated, desperate to find some hidden crevice to bury themselves in.
Miles paid no attention to their fear-stricken faces.
Pointing at Nathan, he spoke with an indifferent tone:
"You have two choices. End up like him—smashed against the wall—or follow me. Bring me one zombie, and I'll give you enough food for three days. Capture a super zombie, and you'll earn supplies for half a month."
Nathan, who moments ago had resolved to die rather than submit, hesitated at the mention of food. He might have been unafraid of death, but who wouldn't want to live? Especially when living meant no longer enduring hunger.
"Are you serious?"
Miles ignored him, turning to Ryan instead. "Go bring the car around."
Within minutes, Ryan returned with the vehicle, hauling down two crates of instant noodles.
Miles glanced at his watch and addressed Nathan again:
"You have one hour. Bring back that zombie, and these supplies are yours."
The mere sight of those two crates sent waves of greed rippling through the crowd. Many instinctively stepped forward to seize them, but their courage faltered.
This man, Miles, was too terrifying. One glance from him, and Augus had met his end in a grotesque and inexplicable manner.
Against such power, even the idea of escape seemed absurd. They could do nothing but stand trembling, fear seizing control of their legs.
"You promise?" Nathan asked cautiously, studying Miles's impassive face.
Miles glanced at his watch again and said coolly, "Fifty-eight minutes left."
Then, without further acknowledgment, he returned to the car to rest.
"Let's move!" Nathan barked at the others. "Who saw which way the zombie ran?"
"I did, Nathan. It went toward Building 17!"
"Move fast. Otherwise, we'll all be gnawing on tree bark again!"
In their desperate bid for survival, these people had already taken to scouring the earth, laboriously breaking through layers of ice just to scavenge scraps of bark to stave off starvation.
Inside the snow vehicle, the warm air from the heater created a comfortable cocoon.
Miles loosened his protective suit, letting in the refreshing breeze.
From the passenger seat, Isaac broke the silence after a moment's hesitation, turning to look back.
"Thank you, Miles."
Reclining on the backseat, his eyes half-closed, Miles replied without looking at him.
"It's just a matter of setting an example. Killing someone who doesn't fear death serves no purpose; they're more useful alive. Let's hope he doesn't disappoint me."
Had Miles chosen to kill Nathan, Isaac might not have protested, but it would have left him deeply unsettled.
"He won't," Isaac said firmly, his voice tinged with both confidence and regret. "The boy was always brilliant… if only things had been different."
Ryan, curious, chimed in.
"Isaac, wasn't Nathan your star pupil? Why don't you trust him? The man seems honorable to me—I don't see him doing something so underhanded."
The subject of Nathan's alleged doping violation hung in the air like a dark cloud. In any competition, such a scandal was the ultimate disgrace.
Isaac sighed heavily.
"I know. With Nathan's skill, he'd never need to resort to such things… but the evidence was undeniable. I had no choice but to expel him. If I hadn't, he would've faced not only lawsuits but likely retaliation."
These events were often shadowed by powerful figures manipulating outcomes for profit. Sabotaging their schemes could lead to dire consequences.
"We got it!"
Their conversation was interrupted as a group approached, dragging a bound zombie in their midst.
Miles checked his watch and smirked.
"Thirty-five minutes. It seems your pupil truly is a talent."
Isaac exhaled a sigh of relief, grateful Nathan had succeeded. He knew Miles wasn't bluffing; failure would have brought dire consequences.
For Miles, two kinds of people deserved mercy: those who proved useful and those who had earned his trust.
With a glance, Miles pacified the ferocious zombie. Within moments, it collapsed into lifelessness.
"How did he do that?"
The crowd, witnessing his power for the first time, was struck with awe.
Even Nathan looked unsettled.
He had captured the zombie himself, enduring immense danger and losing two comrades in the process. But Miles? One glance, and the creature was dead.
"Is he even human?" Alan whispered, his voice trembling.
Nathan shook his head solemnly.
"That's a real master. It's fortunate we didn't provoke him further—otherwise, none of us would be standing here."
Miles appeared indifferent as he absorbed the zombie's energy, his mind briefly clear yet unchanged.
It seemed the power of these super zombies was no longer sufficient to elevate him further. The path to the next level would demand far more.
"Are you willing to work for me?"
Miles, hands in his pockets, smiled faintly at Nathan.
"You've got potential. Deliver one super zombie to me every month, and I'll ensure you never go hungry again."
Without hesitation, Nathan bowed deeply.
"Nathan greets the boss!"
Yet even as he bowed, his eyes flicked briefly toward Isaac, betraying a complex mixture of emotions.
Miles met his gaze with a knowing smile.
"I don't care about past grievances. Under my command, what matters most is competence—and unity."
"Understood!"
The two men nodded in unison, whether sincerely or not.
Unconcerned, Miles continued.
"There must be many more survivors in Chicago. Don't confine yourselves to one area—expand your searches outward."
"Yes, sir!"
"Work hard, and I'll make sure you're rewarded."
With that, Miles departed with Ryan and Isaac in tow, leaving Nathan to issue orders to his group.
"Boss, are we really just going to follow him now?"
One of the "Thirteen Tyrants" muttered in discontent.
"He looks tough, sure, but it's probably just some flashy tricks. If we rushed him together—"
"Shut your mouth!"
Nathan's slap silenced him mid-sentence.
"If you don't want to die, go find more zombies."
The two crates of instant noodles might seem abundant, but with over 300 dependents in the building, they wouldn't last long.
Nathan couldn't ignore the others entirely—failing to keep them placated could incite rebellion.
Adopting a gentler tone, he addressed the group.
"Miles is beyond our reach. Obedience is the only way to survive. If anyone dares disrespect the boss again, I'll deal with them personally. Understood?"
"Understood!"