My Job? Weaving Armour For Undead In Apocalypse
Chapter 31: Life & Death (Part 1)

Chapter 31: Life & Death (Part 1)

A low mechanical hum threaded through the air, rising above the desolate silence as three silver buses rolled steadily toward the cafeteria. Their engines purred, but even that subtle noise echoed ominously across the ruined campus.

The sound was enough.

Zombies began to stir— their growls grew stronger, some staggered out of buildings, few dragging broken limbs as they zeroed in on the noise like moths to a flame.

But they were met with fire.

From the top of the lead bus, Nero stood with one hand raised high. Flameballs spiraled from his palm, lighting up the air with blazing arcs before crashing into the undead with explosive bursts.

Charred limbs flew; mangled torsos rolled. His face remained expressionless, but his eyes gleamed—a golden inferno reflecting the chaos below.

On the left flank, Merek’s Vulture undead charged into the approaching zombies. The armoured wraiths, weaved together with steel and the soul shard of a brutal warrior, slashed, impaled, and crushed without hesitation.

Their movements were too coordinated, too precise, to be anything less than deadly. Each blow was efficient, driven by the cold command of their master.

Inside the third bus, Merek sat quietly, his hand resting inside his coat as he peered out the window.

All four Vultures were hard at work—three of them were level 12, the last one level 13, a recent creation weaved after his fight with the Stage-1 zombie.

With each kill, mists shaped like human silhouettes rose from the fallen zombies and were absorbed into the undead warriors, yet—disappointingly—nothing changed.

Not even a flicker of growth.

Merek’s eyes narrowed. The pattern was clear now. The higher he climbed, the more pointless the weak became. Only true threats oef formidable foes could push him forward now.

And the streets... felt unusually empty.

The scattered resistance gave way to an unsettling quiet, broken only by the rhythmic growl of the engines.

Only one of the Vultures harvested essence cores, methodically pulling marbles from the twitching bodies while its siblings pressed forward.

But that peace shattered the moment they turned the final corner.

Ahead lay a wide path—normally crowded with students during lunch breaks, but now it was choked with an enormous tide of undead. They covered the road from side to side, over a hundred of them packed tightly like ants swarming a feast.

And at the heart of this monstrous gathering, two Type Ones.

Their towering bodies were grotesque to behold, hulking frames of sinew and crimson muscle stripped of all skin, their raw flesh gleaming like oiled leather. Their eyes all white, and as they spotted the approaching buses, their growls rose into throaty roars.

The drivers didn’t need orders.

The three buses slowed to a halt, engines rumbling low. With a dull sound, the front doors opened.

Merek, Felicity, Tevin, and Fred stepped out one by one.

A gust of wind blew past, carrying with it the scent of blood and rot.

Felicity squinted against the horde as she unsheathed her twin short swords. The sunlight gleamed briefly off the metal, then vanished behind clouds again.

"They’re oddly... gathered together," she muttered, eyeing the dense clustering of zombies ahead.

Merek said nothing. His fingers flexed slowly. His undead fell into position.

"I’ll take one of the big ones," Felicity said, her voice calm yet brimming with intent. She hadn’t even finished the sentence before she vanished, blinking through space. In the next breath, she reappeared within the thick of the horde, blades gleaming as she carved a bloody path toward one of the towering Type Ones.

"I’ll take the other," Merek muttered.

Even before the words left his lips, Yuki and the Vultures surged forward, their movements seamless. Swords tore through rotting flesh, limbs fell like chaff before a scythe, and amidst it all, Merek’s form shimmered and vanished—he had turned invisible.

Fred charged in next, his bat crashing into skulls with bone-splintering force. One blow crushed a zombie’s head like overripe fruit; another sent an arm spiraling into the air.

Right behind him, Tevin fought with focused intensity, his entire body encased in bone-crafted armor.

He thrust his bone spear with practiced precision, covering Fred’s flanks with sharp, sweeping jabs.

Watching the tide of undead, Tevin’s mind drifted to the Stage-1 zombie Merek had killed earlier. A spark lit in his eyes. ’Could I ever reach that level of strength?’

Gritting his teeth, he drove his spear deeper, his attacks gaining fierceness. Every strike was a step deeper into the horde.

Nero stood at the rear, offering cover. The moment he slipped on his enchanted gauntlets, his flames turned blue—hotter, deadlier. He hurled two condensed fireballs, each one detonating with a thunderous boom. More than a dozen zombies were reduced to scorched husks in seconds.

Meanwhile, at the eye of the storm, Merek and his undead confronted the Type One.

It roared and brought down a colossal fist on one of the Vultures—but the undead warrior didn’t flinch. The blow landed with a dull thud, pushing it back a few feet. Its vambrace dented, but it remained standing.

Merek raised a hand.

All four Vultures hurled their swords like javelins, the blades whistling through the air before sinking deep into the Type One’s crimson flesh. It didn’t even grunt—barely acknowledging the damage—as it lunged toward Merek.

But Yuki appeared in its path, her stance poised and unwavering. Her sword pointed skyward. The twin white orbs glowing within her helm flared with eerie light as she swung downward in a single, flawless motion. The blade cleaved cleanly from the monster’s head down to its abdomen—a perfect, gaping wound.

At that exact moment, Merek extended a hand. His fingers curled, then twisted with a sharp motion.

A sickening crack echoed as the Type One’s neck snapped mid-step. The creature collapsed in a heap, its rage extinguished.

Merek’s eyes flicked to the system prompt.

[Crush three Type One zombie necks using Telekinesis (1/3)]

Yuki absorbed a large portion of the Type One’s essence and handed over the essence core to Merek.

He gulped it.

[You have consumed a level 17 Type One essence core!]

He felt it, there wasn’t a noticeable bulge in his overall energy.

"Master Weaver, I sense—!"

Yuki hadn’t even finished her sentence when, in a blur of motion, a figure flashed through the battlefield—slicing one of Merek’s Vultures clean in half. The two halves clattered to the ground with a metallic thud, and before anyone could react, the attacker was already surging toward Merek at blinding speed.