After temporarily pacifying her two rather unruly "plant bodyguards," Elara finally had a moment to survey the villa she hadn't seen in days.
As she'd anticipated, the villa's internal defense systems were far more advanced than what a typical tenant would possess. The windows were fitted with custom-made, bulletproof alloy shutters, inconspicuous from the outside but robust enough to withstand small explosions. All entrances were secured with military-grade passcode locks and fingerprint recognition systems. Infrared sensors and microwave detectors were embedded within the walls. Even in key load-bearing walls and ceiling cavities, a thin layer of special composite material capable of absorbing shockwaves and blocking signals had been installed.
That wasn't even mentioning the basement, which she had converted into a small armory and supply depot, or the seemingly random but strategically placed motion-activated defensive traps in the courtyard.
This villa was less a temporary residence and more a meticulously crafted, miniature fortress, armed to the teeth.
Anyone seeing such a setup would find it hard to believe the owner had been "completely unaware" of it before the apocalypse.
Elara offered no explanation. Some things only became more conspicuous with attempts at clarification.
Cassian and Zephyr, in turn, displayed their usual mutual understanding and… discretion. They merely surveyed the villa's interior layout and security features, their eyes occasionally glinting with keen observation, but they never once inquired about any of these arrangements. It was as if, in their view, it was perfectly normal for a woman possessing special abilities and vital information to prepare such a secure haven for herself.
This unspoken understanding brought Elara a small measure of relief.
Just then, the young man on the living room sofa—their landlord—suddenly convulsed violently. He then let out a series of rapid, harsh gasps and his eyes snapped open!
His light brown eyes still held the raw terror and confusion that hadn't yet dissipated. Like a startled wild animal, he rapidly scanned the unfamiliar surroundings and the people gathered around him, a hoarse, unintelligible sound rattling in his throat as his body instinctively tried to curl up.
A potent, almost visible wave of psychic energy erupted from him, pure and primal, teeming with the essence of life. Even Amily, who had yet to awaken any powers, clearly felt the heart-stopping surge of energy wash over her!
"BOOM—!"
Almost simultaneously with the landlord's power flare, another strange phenomenon occurred both inside and outside the villa!
In the courtyard, the two ordinary rose bushes that Elara had pinned her hopes on—expecting them to undergo some beneficial mutation but which had remained stubbornly dormant—shot up as if injected with a powerful growth hormone. They sprouted branches and unfurled leaves at a frenetic pace! In the blink of an eye, their stems thickened to the width of a bowl, bristling with sharp thorns, and their once-delicate leaves became as tough as leather. More astonishingly, instead of displaying aggression like other mutated plants, they adopted a protective stance, rapidly extending their branches and leaves to form a green barrier, subtly shielding the terrified young man at their center.
Pale pink rose petals, like a faerie's teardrops, drifted down from the enormous blossoms, scattering across the ground, creating a scene that was both bizarre and hauntingly beautiful.
No wonder he managed to survive the siege of so many undead, instinctively manifesting that massive "cocoon" around himself! Elara thought. His power was an incredibly potent ability to accelerate plant growth and control them! And from the looks of it, the plants he manifested seemed to possess a certain protective and sheltering characteristic.
Unfortunately, though these newly sprouted roses were massive, their sentience was still low, and their defensive capabilities were limited, utterly incapable of truly protecting him. And the landlord himself, after prolonged starvation, dehydration, and mental torment, was utterly spent. That sudden burst of power had likely exhausted the last ounce of his strength.
Before he could fully shake off his terror, before the nascent rose vines could form an effective defense, Zephyr, who had remained vigilant, moved. His figure flickered like a phantom, bypassing the rose bushes' attempts to block him. With a swift extension of his hand, he precisely gripped the landlord's shoulder.
The landlord let out a feeble cry of alarm and tried to struggle, but his weak resistance was pitifully futile against Zephyr's iron grip. He was subdued in moments, collapsing back onto the sofa, gasping for breath.
Ten minutes later, thanks to Amily's patient reassurance and a cup of hot, sweet brown sugar water, the still-shaken young man finally calmed down and began to grasp his current situation.
He clutched the cup of fragrant, sweet water with trembling hands, taking small sips, his eyes still clouded with lingering fear and bewilderment.
"I… My name is Jorah… Jorah Evans," he introduced himself, his voice hoarse, tinged with the frailty of a survivor and a barely perceptible… awkwardness.
According to Jorah's halting account, his life before the apocalypse had been that of a pampered, spoiled rich kid who never had to worry about a thing. On the day the apocalypse struck, his family's bodyguards had forcibly confined him at home, forbidding him to go out. But, being in his rebellious phase, he'd dismissed the warnings about the "dangers outside" as an overreaction. Seizing a moment when the bodyguards weren't paying attention, he had snuck out, intending to visit his usual luxury boutiques to see if any new items had arrived.
And then… he'd walked straight into the end of the world.
He vaguely remembered the streets suddenly descending into chaos, people attacking and biting each other like madmen, their faces contorting into hideous masks. Then, those terrifying "monsters" had lunged at him. Panicked, he ran, stumbled, and in his desperate flight, had blundered into a jewelry store, instinctively touching an ornamental plant displayed near the entrance…
He had no clear memory of what happened after that. His recollections were a blur, dominated by a persistent exhaustion, hunger, and an extreme thirst, coupled with an inescapable, suffocating fear that prevented him from sleeping, leaving him to struggle between endless nightmares and a terrifying reality…
After listening to Elara and the others briefly explain their current predicament and their general plan to rescue people from the Bio-Genetic Research Institute in the eastern district in a few days, Jorah, who had just caught his breath, was utterly dumbfounded.
His light brown eyes, which had just regained a sliver of their former light, were once again filled with terror and hesitation. The Research Institute? A rescue mission? Those words, to him, sounded even more terrifying than the undead. He instinctively shrank back, clutching the cup of brown sugar water Amily had made as if it were his last lifeline.
Staying alone in this villa… he didn't dare. Although it seemed safe, the thought of facing the monster-infested world outside on his own made him tremble uncontrollably. Heaven knew if those horrifying undead would find their way here, or if some other strange plants would suddenly sprout.
But… to venture with them to the Research Institute… he dared even less! The recent experience of being besieged by the undead, trapped in that suffocating "cocoon," had already become an indelible nightmare. He was just an ordinary, even somewhat cowardly, rich kid. He'd barely been in a fistfight, let alone battled those hideous monsters.
Jorah timidly took small sips of the brown sugar water, his mind a battlefield of conflicting emotions, his face a mask of indecision and helplessness.
As his emotions fluctuated wildly, the giant rose bushes in the courtyard, which he had forcibly "pulled up to help grow," seemed to sense their master's inner weakness and anxiety. Their branches and leaves, which had been struggling to maintain an upright posture, began to wilt and droop at a visible rate. Fortunately, they didn't completely wither and die like the "cocoon" had. They merely lost most of their vitality and moisture, barely maintaining their enormous forms, but their leaves turned yellow and curled, and their flowers lost their luster, presenting a pitiful sight of severe malnutrition.
Watching this, Elara actually felt a sense of relief. At least they're not completely dead, they can still be saved. This type of plant-based power, capable of passive generation and possessing protective traits, had considerable potential if properly cultivated and guided. She turned and dragged a bag of high-efficiency compound fertilizer, stockpiled before the apocalypse, from the basement storage. After a moment's thought, she selected a few smaller neutral energy cores from her collection and carefully buried them in the soil at the roots of the giant rose bushes, hoping these extra "nutrients" would help them recover and grow healthily, ideally evolving to become even stronger.
Since Jorah had temporarily joined their team, and although he currently seemed like a non-combatant "dead weight," his power's potential was not to be underestimated. For the sake of teamwork and to alleviate some of his fears, Zephyr began to briefly outline the intelligence they had on the Research Institute.
He pulled up an internal structural diagram of the institute on his tactical tablet. It was a remarkably detailed 3D cross-section, clearly marking the functional divisions of each floor and area, as well as potential escape routes.
"The main structure of the institute is underground, comprising five levels in total." Zephyr used a laser pointer to indicate on the diagram. "According to our intel, the last known location of those critical researchers was in the B-Zone biosafety lab on the third subterranean level."
"The underground structure isn't overly complex, mostly standardized lab and office areas," he continued. "The problem is, the institute's internal security level is extremely high. From the ground entrance to the third basement level, one must pass through at least seven security doors, each with independent passcodes and biometric identification systems. And each of those security doors was originally manned by security personnel…"
Zephyr paused, his tone still flat, but the implication of his words was clear: "…Now, those places are likely overrun with undead."
He switched to another map, which marked the high-activity zones of undead around the institute in red.
"Furthermore… as you've noticed, there's been an abnormal decrease in the number of undead in S-City's urban areas. Based on our latest reconnaissance and analysis, a significant portion of them have been drawn to the eastern district, where the institute is located."
Zephyr's gaze swept over them, his voice deepening slightly. "Intelligence suggests that a temporary undead 'nest,' or 'gathering center,' seems to be forming near the institute. This means that not only will there likely be an extremely large horde of undead around the institute, but there's also a high probability of… an exceptionally powerful mutated individual capable of commanding and controlling other undead."
Hearing this , Elara's eyes flickered sharply.
So… my successful escape with Leon and the others in the early days of the apocalypse in my past life was 'thanks' to them causing such a huge commotion here?
An absurd thought flashed through Elara's mind.
However, she knew that the "exceptionally powerful opponent" Zephyr mentioned was probably far more than just "powerful." If her memory served her right, if the trajectory of history hadn't deviated too much due to her rebirth…
Then, the entity entrenched near the Research Institute should be S-City's—and indeed, the entire early apocalypse's—first…
Zombie King!
A terrifying entity possessing rudimentary intelligence, capable of commanding lower-tier undead, and whose own strength was formidable enough to contend with a small military unit!
This realization made Elara's heart once again pound uncontrollably in her chest. Fortunately, it was still the early days of the apocalypse. Even a powerful Zombie King would have glaring weaknesses, especially when she knew what they were.
Elara turned to look at the bewildered Jorah, thinking to herself, This is truly a godsend.