Apocalypse: King of Zombies

Chapter 423 - 423: Let’s see what secrets you’re hiding in here...

"What the hell is that?" Hellhound asked, looking curious but not really taking it seriously. After all, he liked to bulldoze through everything—he could smash right through even the elemental defense spells cast by Awakeners. Why would he bother dodging a little bottle?

So, with a casual swipe of his claw, he shattered it.

CRASH!

There was a sharp crack as glass exploded everywhere, and the black liquid inside splattered straight onto Hellhound's face. A weird, nasty smell hit him immediately.

The bottle had been filled with blood from Black-Skin Zombies—Ethan had originally given it to Sean for re

Lil' Shroom waved her hand, and a cloud of fungal spores drifted into the air. In the woods behind her, the red fleshy tumors growing on the trees began to squirm and pulse, slowly gathering together, molding into a humanoid shape.

She was planning to use a mimic to infiltrate San Diego's zombie nest. Sending her real body in would be way too risky.

Honestly, Lil' Shroom had tried this trick before, but Hellhound's damn bloodhound nose was too sharp—he could sniff out the fungal scent from miles away and bust her every time.

But now? Hellhound was too busy flying around like a lunatic, gagging from the stink bomb Sean had hit him with. He wasn't paying attention to anything else.

As the red mass finished forming, a zombie figure slowly rose from the ground. It had a huge, round head, with all its facial features squished together into an ugly, lopsided mess.

It was a perfect copy of Bighead, one of San Diego's zombie generals.

Lil' Shroom had picked Bighead for a reason—if she mimicked Hellhound or Deathspeaker, she'd draw way too much attention. But if she disguised herself as some low-level grunt, she wouldn't have the freedom to move around inside the nest.

Bighead was the perfect middle ground: important enough to roam freely, but not so high-profile that everyone would be watching his every move.

"What do you think?" Lil' Shroom asked, stepping back to admire her work.

Big Ears scowled. "Just looking at him pisses me off."

The mimic was that good—every little detail, from the posture to the vibe, was spot-on. You'd have a hard time telling it apart from the real deal.

Shrimpy squinted and said, "Shroom, sis! He's not black enough. Bighead's head got all scorched earlier."

"Oh, right!" Lil' Shroom snapped her fingers and quickly adjusted the mimic, adding burn marks and charred patches to the body.

Nobody knows you better than your enemies.

Big Ears and the others had fought Bighead enough times to know him inside and out. With their help, the mimic was now flawless—like looking into a mirror.

"Perfect! Let's move!" Lil' Shroom ordered, sending the fake Bighead shambling off into the deeper woods.

They were already near the edge of San Diego's zombie nest, so it didn't take long before the ruins of the city came into view.

Downtown San Diego was a forest of steel and concrete—skyscrapers looming like dead trees. Some had collapsed, leaning against each other like drunk giants, their surfaces cracked and covered in moss.

It was the classic end-of-the-world scene.

Normally, the outskirts would be crawling with zombie guards, but right now, most of them had been dragged off to fight alongside Hellhound.

"Perfect timing..." Lil' Shroom muttered, steering her mimic toward the heart of the zombie nest.

The journey in was surprisingly smooth. No one stopped her. The streets were a wreck—shattered glass everywhere, plastic bags fluttering in the wind, trash piled up in corners.

Zombies wandered aimlessly through the ruins, their blood-smeared faces blank and slack-jawed, low growls rumbling from their throats.

Some of them were gnawing on giant rats, crunching through bone and fur with sickening enthusiasm, their mouths smeared with blood and bits of fur.

These were the lowest of the low—mindless, unevolved zombies, barely more than beasts.

Lil' Shroom ignored them, her sharp eyes scanning the surroundings. San Diego's layout was a mess—twisting streets, collapsed buildings—it was easy to get turned around.

And she had no idea where the core of the zombie nest actually was.

She'd never made it this far before. Every time she tried, Hellhound would sniff her out and chase her off before she got close.

Now, standing here in the heart of enemy territory, she felt a rush of excitement—and a burning curiosity.

"Let's see what secrets you're hiding in here..."

...