11 Chapter 11

Meanwhile, on the isolated Kujil Island, the number of survivors emerging from the ominous shadows of the forest grew, but so did the zombie swarm.

In less than a minute, survivors stumbling out of the woods crowded at the yard of the house, panting in exhaustion.

Another young man in a black waistcoat, hearing the ruckus, rushed out from the interior of the house, perplexed at the sight of so many unexpected visitors on this remote island.

But soon, the blood-thirsty roars of zombies lured his attention away. Wielding their pistols, the two butlers of the house aimed toward the eerie darkness where the sounds occurred.

"You people! Grab knives or any weapon from the kitchen!"

"The maids inside will help you!"

The two butlers shouted orders coherently, ushering the survivors to aid them in battle.

"Don't shout at me you little twat! I'm not listening to some watchdogs!" Despite being in a flustered state, a plump man in business attire barked out in frustration, his sweaty forehead and reddened skin marking his discomposure. "It's your duty to protect us. You're the ones with a gun!"

"Sir, we can barely fend off against one or two of these monsters. We really need some assistance…" The butler in blue ground his teeth, explaining with slight irritation. It was obvious he was being lenient with his annoyance, giving a speck of leeway. After all, he's a worker, and the price of the man's suit was no doubt equivalent to his salary. Once they leave this island, one rich man's word could ruin his career.

"Don't listen to that sly fox, he's just a lazy bastard. Afraid to take risks, afraid to die!"

Dressed head to toe in beachwear, another middle-aged man mocked back. He had an injury on his earlobe, bandaged casually with plasters. It was the man Jericho made an example of during the flight.

Stepping up, he patted the butlers' shoulder and declared firmly. "Even if Donald finds a way to fire you, you can come work for me." He paused before glaring into the darkness, "assuming we survive."

"Zhou! You are a dog to me! My company's value can topple your little gang overnight. What gives you the confidence to make that promise?" Donald, the plump man, fulminated in response, clattering the golden chains around his thick neck.

"Donald… oh you are one ignorant bastard…" Zhou snickered, almost breaking into laughter before shaking his head sympathetically. "Look around us! Undead? Zombies? We are in an apocalypse! The world is probably suffering! The company you're so proud of is probably no longer functioning! My work revolves around the grey area… you don't think my 'little' gang can strive in this environment?"

Donald froze. His mouth hung in a place like a nailed picture frame, eyes widened in disbelief. Whether he likes it or not, it's the horrifying truth.

The world is no longer the same as before.

"There's still hope! We can call for help and eventually someone will save us —"

"Did all you forget what happened at the beach? Did you forget about that plane? The one that pummeled into pieces?" Pointing towards the empty sky, Zhou snapped back brusquely. "There's no 'help'. There are no planes saving us!"

"You're wrong! Look at what's around us!" Donald grunted as he waved his arms in the air. "Light!"

But he soon fell into another trance, murmuring in bewilderment. "But then why did that plane fall so abruptly?"

Hearing this, Zhou frowned, rubbing his ear. Rubbing his ear is a habit of his, which he practices often whenever he's contemplating.

"Could it be… Ow!" A painful sting forced Zhou to let out a grimace, cutting off his thoughts. However, the burning sensation on his wound reminded him of the existence of another person. A person who caused his wound.

"That kid! Did any of you see him? The one who forced the emergency landing. He must have known more than us!"

Zhou's words awoken the passiveness of the survivors, galvanizing them to scan their surroundings for that golden-haired boy.

That kid could be the answer to their survival.

Meanwhile, Nova had already left the chaotic scene, sticking to his new plan. While the survivors cowered and bickered, he had already slipped into the house without gaining attention and grabbed two hand-made, high-quality knives from the kitchen, leaving silently without a trace.

Guilt tripped, Jay's final words to him resonated in his head incessantly. He was right. As the most capable person amongst hundreds of passengers, he could have drastically reduced the loss of lives. He neglected one important variable. This was now an apocalypse, and loss of life means an increase of undead beings. Because of his mentality, he has produced so much more trouble for himself.

Threading through the leaves and branches, a rustling noise from above him halted Jericho in his track. He prepared his knife, ready to pierce the incoming undead.

To his relief, a familiar figure climbed out of the dense leaves of a tree, sitting atop a sturdy branch. It was Jay, the man who made him feel so conflicted.

"It's great to see you again. Jericho." Jay greeted softly. He had a grim look, worry written all over his expression.

"I don't like to sugarcoat things. Sorry for abandoning you. I failed to recognize the severity of my error and I intend to rewrite my wrongs. If I don't act soon, more worthless people will turn into vicious zombies, and I won't be able to handle them…" Jericho recited his lines robotically with a blank expression.

"Apology accepted… wait, you came back not to save more people, but because you worry you can't handle too many zombies?!" Jay's jaw dropped. Rubbing his temple in astound, he was at a loss for words. This kid. How can someone's emotional quotient stoop so low?

"Where's the genuineness? The… the energy?" Jay questioned.

Seeing the lost look on Jericho's young face, Jay masked his grim look with entertained laughter.

Scratching his trimmed beard, Jay said softly with brooding eyes. "I suppose you can make up for your mistakes. My wife. She… she's still stuck on the plane. Would you care to help me save her?"

Studying Jay, Jericho pondered his request before nodding his head with confirmation.

"That's great! Thank you for helping me." Aspiration lit up Jay's eyes. With Jericho's skills, it would be very possible for them to save his wife. "In return, I'll teach you how to act out a decent apology. How does that sound?"

"I'd be ecstatic to settle on this deal." Showing a pair of shallow dimples, Jericho presented his brightest smile. It was one of the only two expressions he had mastered because having an attractive smile was compulsory for a child assassin.