Ethan set his phone down, leaned back into the couch, and closed his eyes, trying to relax. But his mind was elsewhere, turning over the same question: Who's going to make the first move?
The morning passed uneventfully. Aside from the situation gaining traction online, everything was proceeding as expected.
Until noon.
At the edge of Ethan's territory, a faint commotion began to stir. A group of zombies was gathering, led by a towering zombie king. This one was clearly a brute, built for strength—almost like a walking tank, not unlike Bulldozer.
This particular zombie king didn't have much of a following. He'd been a drifter, constantly on the move, picking fights wherever he could.
"Heh, as long as you're not dead, there's always a chance to rise to the top. And now's the time. Time to carve out my own turf!" The zombie king grinned wickedly, striding forward with purpose.
The group of underlings trailing behind him seemed just as fired up.
