I am the Zombie King of the Apocalyptic World
Chapter 1582 - 1576: Crooked Neck, Snapper, Bald Head

Chapter 1582: Chapter 1576: Crooked Neck, Snapper, Bald Head

"My brother, he’s a Level 6 New Human, and holds a position at headquarters that would be unreachably high for someone like you. He sent me these messages, but even he can’t stop me from being forcibly recruited into the Cold Army."

"Level 6, huh..."

The young man’s words startled Ghost Head. For someone like him, New Humans above Level 6 were as rare as wealthy tycoons before the Apocalypse—hardly seen and difficult to imagine. It wasn’t like the internet fables where everyone was Level 7 or Level 8.

In Dangerous Sanctuary City, Ghost Head had glimpsed a Level 6 New Human once from afar, in the commercial district. Figures like that were indeed untouchable in his eyes.

"You mentioned cooperation earlier... How are we supposed to cooperate?"

"Cooperate how? We can’t even handle a Level 3 zombie. The Soundwave Zombie Tide isn’t a joke; that thing is a swarm led by the Zombie King. Forget Level 3 zombies, there are plenty of Level 6 and Level 7 ones in the horde. If we charge in, the energy magazines in our weapons will be spent long before we even put a dent in them. Honestly, we’re screwed. The strongest we’ve seen on our side is a Level 5, and that pathetic f*cker couldn’t even muster a fart against the horde—wouldn’t even be good enough to clog their teeth. Right now, we’re just like parentless children, left to fend for ourselves with no one looking out for us."

Brother Shi spoke as if he was casually chatting, but his words carried a sharp truth.

"Once we reach the destination, we’ll make a run for it while no one’s paying attention. Head as far away from the City Center as possible."

"This..."

Brother Shi’s suggestion shocked Ghost Head. Though he had never seen the consequences of being caught as a deserter, he’d heard enough grim tales to send shivers down his spine.

"You’re saying we should desert? Do you even understand the consequences of being a deserter?"

Hearing this, Brother Shi smirked dismissively and said, "Being a deserter is still better than being dead."

Ghost Head was momentarily stunned. In a feudal society, someone like him would simply be an ordinary peasant—beneath the mercy of murderous nobles and above the dignity of enslaved souls, utterly insignificant.

Of course, in this apocalyptic world, he had killed before. Back then, if he wasn’t ruthless, he’d be the one dead. That was many years ago. As humanity began stabilizing in the world of the Apocalypse, the cruelty he honed in its early days had been largely worn away.

Running for one’s life seemed far too reckless to him, leaving him torn with indecision. Still, Brother Shi had a point—being a deserter was better than waiting to die!

"You... you’re right..."

"Then it’s decided. Once we get there, look for a chance to slip away from the unit."

"Where will we go?"

"Let’s get out first, figure it out later."

Ghost Head fell silent. His peripheral glance caught three workers nearby, chatting and boasting idly. After a brief inner struggle, he asked Brother Shi, "Just us two?"

"Of course! The more people involved... What? You want to rope others in? Listen to me—more people just mean more chances of getting exposed. You’ve survived long enough; surely you don’t still have a bleeding heart for others, do you?"

"It’s not that... Does your brother have any arrangements for where we’ll go?"

"Why are you asking this all of a sudden?... No, he hasn’t..."

"Then how long do you think we two can survive alone?"

"You have a point..."

Brother Shi fell quiet. If they deserted, Dangerous Sanctuary City would be off-limits for sure. Outside of the city, survival with just the two of them would be nearly impossible—it wasn’t just talk. Still, thinking further, if they brought in a few more people, their strengths were all similar, all Level 2 New Humans, so it wouldn’t make much of a difference...

If they recruited someone stronger, it’d be uncertain whether that person would even tolerate carrying such burdens. The latter idea was almost a lost cause, but the former—getting more people—would at least give a small sense of security. After all, there was strength in numbers.

Both men sat in silence for a while. Finally, Brother Shi broke the stalemate and asked, "Then who do you want to bring in?"

Ghost Head scanned the area before him, his gaze first landing on the three workers, and then on Yong, who sat nearby staring blankly at a box. Weighing his options, Ghost Head decisively chose the three workers.

"Those three."

"You all know each other..."

"You don’t trust me? Don’t worry, it won’t be anything like what you’re imagining."

"Alright, alright. Go talk to them, but be careful—don’t attract any attention from the others."

"I know how to handle this."

Ghost Head nodded, stood up, but suddenly seemed to remember something and turned back to Brother Shi.

"Give me the phone."

"You..."

"I’m afraid they won’t believe me. We’re not like you—things like this aren’t something you can convince people about with just talk."

"Take it."

Without further fuss, Brother Shi unlocked his phone by inputting a second-level password and opened the email his brother had sent him, before handing the phone to Ghost Head.

Ghost Head nodded, taking the phone as he walked towards the three workers.

As soon as he took a step, the trio noticed him. One of them, whose head hung permanently tilted to the side—not out of disdain for Ghost Head, but due to an injury years ago when a corpse hound had rammed into him—causing his neck to stiffen. This man had an alias like Ghost Head and was called Crooked Neck.

"Ghost Head, fancy seeing you walk over. Tired of sulking alone already? Decided to let us entertain you?"

"Hahaha! Recently, I suppose a little chick dumped you, huh?"

"Hehehe..."

The three men laughed lecherously. Ghost Head shook his head, a faint smile appearing on his face, though it quickly faded. He arrived in front of them and lowered his voice to say, "I have something to discuss with you."

As the words fell, he scanned his surroundings. Luckily, no one seemed to be paying attention; the soldiers in the vehicle were chatting amongst themselves, much like Crooked Neck and his crew.

"What do you want to talk about? Wait a bit; we’ve got a question for you first—"

Initially, the trio didn’t take Ghost Head’s words seriously. One of them, whose hand lacked both his pinky and ring fingers—a man nicknamed Snapper due to his rascal-like demeanor—grabbed Ghost Head by the collar and pulled him close. Snapper had lost the fingers years ago when someone chopped them off, earning his infamous alias.

Before Snapper could finish his jest, he noticed Ghost Head’s grim expression. The other two caught on as well, their previous mirth replaced by tense stillness.

"What do you need to tell us?"

Bald Head asked cautiously. After surviving in the Apocalypse for so many years, facial expressions had become a critical survival skill for them all. Ghost Head’s serious demeanor made it clear this was no trivial matter!

Without saying a word, Ghost Head pulled out Brother Shi’s phone and presented it to the three.

"That’s not your phone... I..."

Snapper instinctively began teasing Ghost Head but froze mid-sentence upon seeing the content on the screen. It was as if someone had shoved a pair of stinking socks into his mouth—his voice abruptly cut off!

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