In the days that followed, Ethan stayed home, living a reclusive life.
His routine became simple and predictable: eat meat, and train his zombie minions.
As time passed, the progress these zombies made was nothing short of astonishing.
Not only had they fully mastered the use of Kukri knives, but they had also learned how to handle crossbows.
During these three days, Ethan consumed an enormous amount of flesh, digesting it at an incredible rate and absorbing a significant amount of energy.
Roughly estimating, he had eaten the equivalent of at least ten cows!
His body was evolving rapidly, becoming stronger by the day.
Now, Ethan's skin was as tough as rubber. A knife would only leave a faint white mark when dragged across it.
Ordinary human weapons could no longer harm him.
"My head feels kinda itchy... like something's about to grow out," Ethan muttered, swirling the wine glass in his hand as he gently rolled his neck.
This sensation was a sign that he was evolving from a C-rank to a B-rank.
Once he reached B-rank, a crystal core would form inside his skull, significantly boosting his overall strength. He would also awaken a special ability.
Every zombie's ability was different.
Some were basic, like rapid healing, super infection, or growing bone spikes. Others were more bizarre, like hallucination, dream invasion, or mind control.
These strange abilities often caught enemies off guard, sometimes even killing them without a trace.
Ethan wasn't sure what ability he would awaken.
In his previous life, due to a lack of enough flesh, he had never evolved to such a high level. He hadn't even had the chance to show his potential before Lola's five boyfriends killed him.
Now, he took a refined sip of the blood in his glass, feeling the energy flow through his body.
After a few days of experimentation, he concluded that beef tasted the best, followed by pork, with chicken coming in last.
As for blood, cow's blood was undoubtedly the most delicious—it was like drinking a can of "Red Bull."
Every time he drank cow's blood, his cells became more active, his energy absorption sped up, and even his pale face would gain a slight flush of color.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Just as Ethan was leisurely enjoying his "Red Bull," a series of heavy thuds echoed from the street outside.
Thanks to his zombie-enhanced hearing, he easily picked up on the sounds.
"What's going on out there?" He walked over to the window and leaned down to look.
On the street below, a group of heavily armed humans was busy at work.
Their arms were wrapped in newspaper, secured tightly with duct tape—clearly an attempt to prevent zombie bites.
They were wielding all sorts of weapons: wrenches, crowbars, and even a frying pan.
Leading them was a burly man, about 5'11" and close to 220 pounds.
He was holding a fire axe, swinging it forcefully at a locked metal shutter.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Each swing of the axe sent sparks flying, the deafening noise echoing through the street.
That metal shutter was the entrance to the supermarket Ethan used to run.
It was obvious these people had run out of food and were desperate enough to risk coming out to scavenge for supplies.
"This supermarket used to have a ton of stuff stocked up. Once we break in, we won't have to worry about food and water anymore!" the burly man shouted, his eyes wide with determination as he kept swinging the axe, not daring to stop.
They knew that the loud noise would eventually attract zombies.
"Big Tony, hurry up! The zombies are coming!" one of the men yelled in panic.
Sure enough, on the bloodstained, corpse-littered street, seven or eight zombies had already been drawn to the commotion.
They let out low growls, charging at the group of humans with terrifying speed. These zombies, starved for a long time, had begun to rot, their hair almost completely gone. They looked like grotesque demons crawling straight out of hell.
"Oh my God! This is terrifying!" one of the men stammered, his legs trembling so badly he could barely stand.
The burly leader gritted his teeth, his voice shaking as he barked, "Hold them off! I'm almost through the door!"
"Alright! Let's do this!" another man shouted, raising his crowbar and charging at the oncoming zombies.
The four men engaged in a fierce battle with the undead.
These zombies were low-level, their movements stiff and sluggish, nowhere near as agile as the humans. One by one, they were taken down with headshots, collapsing into pools of blood.
But there were just too many of them. Zombies were pouring in from all directions, some even leaping off rooftops, swarming like a relentless tide...
The men's stamina quickly drained.
In a fight like this, an average person lasting two minutes was already a miracle.
"Ah! It hurts so bad... I've been bitten! Help me!"
The man who had been trembling earlier was now being viciously bitten on the hand by a zombie, his face contorted in agony.
"Jimmy!"
The others wanted to help, but they were already overwhelmed, barely able to fend for themselves.
They all knew what a zombie bite meant—there was only one outcome: turning into one of them.
Helpless, they could only watch as Jimmy was dragged down by four or five zombies, torn apart in seconds.
His screams echoed through the empty street, chilling to the bone.
Upstairs, Ethan took a casual sip of the blood in his glass, watching the scene unfold with a detached amusement, as if he were watching a dull play.
He couldn't help but find it funny. These people were wasting their energy trying to break into his supermarket, completely unaware that he had already stored all the supplies in his spatial storage ring.
Jimmy's screams soon faded, and as his body was devoured, the leader, Tony, suddenly grinned with excitement.
"The door's open! Get inside, quick!"
With a loud screech of metal, the shutter door finally rolled up.
The remaining men, hearing this, let out sighs of relief and rushed toward the entrance.
But just as they were scrambling to safety, one of them was grabbed by a half-destroyed zombie lying on the ground.
Thud!
He fell hard, terror flooding his face as he desperately crawled toward the door.
"Guys, help me!"
The others, already inside the supermarket, quickly grabbed his arms, pulling with all their might.
But the zombies were closing in fast, piling onto him one after another.
No matter how hard they tried, they couldn't pull him all the way in.
To make matters worse, his body was now stuck under the shutter, preventing them from closing it completely.
Several zombies were already squeezing through the gap, clawing their way inside.
"Tony! What do we do?"
Two of the men looked at Tony, their faces pale with fear.
Tony swung his fire axe, smashing the heads of a few zombies, his jaw clenched. "We can't save him! Throw him out! We have to close the door!"
"What? But..."
The two men hesitated, shocked by the coldness of the order. They didn't want to abandon their friend.
But in the face of life and death, they silently let go.
"Guys... please, help me!" the man on the ground cried out in despair, his body being dragged further outside by the zombies. But his survival instinct kicked in, and he clung to the edge of the shutter with all his strength, his fingernails digging into the metal.
At that moment, a glint of ruthlessness flashed in Tony's eyes. He raised his fire axe high and, without hesitation, brought it down on the man's hands.
Thwack!
The axe severed his hands cleanly, blood spurting everywhere. The man let out a blood-curdling scream as his body was dragged outside, instantly swarmed by the zombies.
With a final screech of metal, the shutter door slammed shut.
"Not bad... not bad at all," Ethan thought to himself as he watched from the window, slightly impressed. These guys had done pretty well. They'd only lost two people and still managed to break into his supermarket.
Especially Tony—his final decision was swift and ruthless, with no hesitation.
A smirk tugged at the corner of Ethan's mouth, a hint of amusement playing on his lips.
But what a shame... the supermarket was already completely empty.