Ethan watched in silence, eyes sharp. He noticed that while Meteorfall's crew looked physically weak, they were anything but dumb—anyone who could survive in Westmarch had to be sharp.
Meanwhile, Heartland's elite zombies were getting absolutely wrecked by the Black-Skin Zombies. Every time they bit into one, it was like chomping down on a pile of shit—thick, black blood oozed out, reeking like death itself.
To make things worse, the Black-Skin Zombies' Neurocores and crystal cores were completely useless—inedible, no energy to absorb. Fighting them was all risk, no reward.
"Disgusting... Fucking disgusting!" one of Heartland's elite zombies roared, gagging as he stumbled back. They were totally thrown off by the Black-Skin horde.
Ravager saw what was happening and clenched his teeth in fury.
What the hell is this garbage?
