Digging crystal cores out of over two thousand zombie skulls was no small job—even for a crew like Ethan, Chris, Henry, Sean, Big Mike, and Skinny Pete.

This was when the downside of being short-staffed really hit home.

The six of them were crouched over the corpses, methodically cracking open heads and prying out the shimmering cores, when a bus roared past on the nearby road. None of them paid it much mind—until it screeched to a halt, reversed, and rolled back toward them.

Doors hissed open. More than forty people spilled out, all armed with a mix of blades, bats, and guns, heading straight for them.

The guys exchanged a look. Ethan's brow twitched. This had the stink of trouble.

The newcomers reached the edge of the kill zone, eyes gleaming as they took in the mountain of dead zombies.

"Hey," called the man in front, maybe mid-thirties, with a cocky tilt to his chin. "You guys the ones who took these down?"

Ethan didn't even look up. "Nope. Must've been you, right?" he said, rolling his eyes.

The man chuckled, not amused. "Big haul like this... you must have a pretty large team. Where's the rest of 'em?"

"Cut the crap," Ethan said flatly. "There's six of us. You want the crystal cores, just say so."

That shut them up.

The group hesitated, caught off guard by how blunt he was. They weren't sure whether to press forward or back off.

Ethan smiled, easy and unbothered. "If you want the cores, go ahead. Help yourselves."

Even Chris and the others blinked at that. But they didn't say a word—Ethan had a plan, and they trusted him.

The man—Garrick, judging by the murmurs—frowned, trying to read Ethan's angle.

One of his guys leaned in and whispered, "Garrick, I checked. No one else around. Just these six."

Garrick nodded slowly. Maybe some bigger group had cleared the horde and left before they could harvest the loot. These six must've just gotten lucky.

No way in hell he believed they'd taken out over two thousand zombies on their own.

"They probably saw how many of us there are and got scared," Garrick thought, smirking to himself. "Smart move, backing off."

Out loud, he said, "Well, since you're being so generous, we'd be rude to refuse. Everyone—start digging!"

His crew whooped and surged forward, falling on the corpses like kids at a candy store.

Ethan just stood there, smiling faintly, watching them work. Chris and the others stayed behind him, silent but alert.

"Ha! Got a Tier 3!" one guy shouted, holding up a glowing core like he'd just won the lottery.

Garrick didn't care—he was past Tier 3s. Their group had a rule: finders keepers. The lucky bastard grinned, eyes wide, and raised the core to his mouth, ready to swallow it whole.

Then—CRACK.

A barbell bar came flying out of nowhere and smashed into his arm. Bone and muscle exploded. The core flew from his hand as he dropped to the ground, screaming.

"AAAHHH—!"

Everyone froze. All eyes snapped to Ethan.

"What the hell's your problem?" Garrick snapped, his face darkening as he glared at Ethan.

"You can pick them up," Ethan said coolly, "but you can't eat them."

Garrick's eyes narrowed. "What we do with them is none of your damn business."

"No," Ethan said, voice calm but firm. "You've got the right to collect. Not to consume."

"…"

"You're not seriously trying to make us harvest the crystal cores for you, are you?" Garrick wasn't stupid. It didn't take him long to catch on.

Ethan gave him a slow nod. "Mm-hmm. Not bad. Took you a minute, but you got there."

"…"

"You think you've earned that kind of authority?"

"I do," Ethan said, dead serious.

"Holy shit, this guy's full of himself! Garrick, let's kill these assholes!" someone from the crowd shouted.

"Garrick, my arm's gone, man! You've gotta avenge me!" the guy Ethan had maimed was practically sobbing now, cradling the bloody stump.

Garrick took a long breath, his voice dropping to a cold growl. "You lay a hand on my people, you're done. All of you."

"Kill them!"

The moment Garrick gave the word, his crew surged forward, weapons raised, fury in their eyes.

Ethan didn't even blink. He turned to his team and said, "Try not to kill them all. We still need someone to dig up the rest of the cores."

Chris grinned. "Got it."

The six of them stepped forward, calm as wolves among sheep.

The clash was over in seconds. Screams rang out, bodies hit the dirt, and when the dust settled, only Ethan's crew was still standing.

"!!!"

Garrick stared, eyes wide, jaw slack. He looked from one man to the next, disbelief etched across his face.

"They're… all Tier 4?"

Ethan chuckled. "You're Tier 4. Why can't we be?"

"That's not the same!" Garrick was screaming inside. "We've got over a hundred people, and even then, half of them died just to get me to Tier 4! And you—six guys, all Tier 4?! What the actual fuck?!"

He couldn't wrap his head around it. Ethan hadn't even lifted a finger yet, but the others—Chris, Henry, Sean, Big Mike, Skinny Pete—had wiped out his men like they were nothing. If they were all Tier 4, then Ethan, their leader…

No. He didn't want to think about that.

Garrick's expression twisted, panic flickering behind his eyes.

If it were just one or two Tier 4s, he could deal. But six? Six Tier 4s could beat the shit out of him and still have time for lunch.

"Stop overthinking," Ethan said suddenly, his voice slicing through the tension. "Your guys already made their move. Time for you to show me what you've got. Let's see that earth-type ability of yours."

"!!?"

"???"

Garrick recoiled. "How do you know I have an ability?!"

"Don't worry about that," Ethan said, tone casual. "I'm giving you a shot. Better take it—might not get another."

Garrick's face twisted into a sneer. "Fine. You want a show? I'll give you one. Even among Tier 4s, there's a world of difference between an Awakened and an Enhanced."

Without warning, the ground beneath Ethan shifted.

He moved on instinct, leaping to the side just as a jagged spike of earth shot up from where he'd been standing. The thing was tall enough to skewer a man clean through.

Ethan stared at it, then turned to Garrick, eyes wide. "Holy shit. I was just trying to play nice, and you tried to impale my ass?!"

Now he was pissed.

He grabbed the barbell bar from the ground and hurled it like a javelin.

But before it could hit, a massive boulder materialized in midair and came crashing down toward him.

Ethan swung the barbell like a baseball bat, smashing the rock into a cloud of rubble. The impact sent a jolt up his arm, the force of it nearly numbing his shoulder.

That hit had to be at least 4,000 pounds of pressure.

"Damn," Ethan thought, flexing his fingers. "Awakeneds really are built different. No wonder they can punch above their tier."

Across the field, Garrick's face had gone pale.

He knew exactly how strong that move had been. Back when he was still Tier 3, he'd used that same Rockfall to crush a Tier 4 zombie to death. That kill had been what pushed him into Tier 4.

And now? That same move—amplified by his current power—had been shattered by a single swing.

He stared at Ethan, something dawning in his eyes. His voice came out hoarse.

"You're… Tier 5?!"

...

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