Revenge Against "Justice"!

If he were only being hunted by strict orders, Lowett wouldn't have sought revenge against the entire Branch 153. People's hearts are like snakes and scorpions; not anticipating something is not anticipating it, and becoming enraged out of shame is not advisable.

However, through the navigator's account, Lowett was astonished to discover that Morgan and the others were completely unharmed!

Undoubtedly, Marine Headquarters not only intended to suppress his existence but also to suppress Morgan's problem, even going so far as to exchange benefits with the Kingdom of Goa to reach a consensus.

A mere Morgan wasn't qualified for such consideration.

What the Navy sought was "peace," and "the general trend."

With the reputation of Sengoku the Buddha's "wise general," Lowett believed Marine Headquarters couldn't possibly miss the truth of the matter.

So the answer was obvious.

"Slaughtering innocent civilians under the guise of righteousness... Justice, what a high-sounding phrase!"

Justice is like snow, heaven's law is clear.

But the justice that people can see is as black as ink!

"Since that's the case, please offer your hearts for justice, to fulfill the name of loyalty!"

He wasn't seeking revenge against Morgan, nor against Branch 153, but to declare war on that ridiculous "Justice"!

Clang!

Beep beep!

The sounds of combat, police sirens, and screams echoed throughout the moderately sized Branch 153.

Rumble!

The armory was detonated by a suicide attack from a zombie, and the raging flames illuminated the night sky, as well as the ferocious and terrifying faces of the zombies.

Splat!

Morgan was jolted awake from his sleep. Without time to dress, he brandished his axe, smashing through the undead blocking his path, and fought his way to the plaza.

"You!"

Seeing the soldiers scrambling around in panic, Morgan grabbed one and asked, "What's going on? How did the enemy get in?"

"I... I don't know."

The soldier trembled, looking at the "enemies" roaring in the firelight, and shivered.

"Colonel, they're not human, they're monsters!"

"Nonsense about monsters!"

Morgan knew he wouldn't get any useful information. He tossed the soldier aside and turned.

Gulp...

"Lt. Colonel Alva!"

Only then did Morgan finally get a clear look at the faces of the undead. Coincidentally, this one was an acquaintance. Back when he was a Private, this was Lieutenant Colonel Alva, who managed his superior's superior's superior.

Instantly, a chill surged from his groin to his brain, spreading along his spine.

Morgan finally understood why the soldiers hadn't put up any effective resistance and were being chased and killed by the enemy. Even if it were a surprise attack, it shouldn't have been this pathetic.

Now he understood.

When the dead stand before you again, even your most familiar brothers, comrades, and superiors, that familiar yet strange absurdity is more terrifying than any gore or shock!

"Roar!"

Lieutenant Colonel Alva didn't recognize his former subordinate. He let out a roar, raised his rusty iron sword, which was already chipped, and brought it down.

The sound of the wind startled Morgan. He wanted to raise his axe to counterattack, but his icy hands and feet made it impossible to muster any strength.

He could only duck his head and roll away clumsily.

The rusty sword gouged a rhomboid mark the length of a finger joint into the stone slab of the training ground, sending sparks flying. If this sword had hit, Morgan would have been crippled, if not killed.

"Colonel, be careful!"

Several soldiers rushed over and surrounded Morgan. The life force of the crowd dispersed some of his fear.

He looked up and saw a soldier outside the protective circle scream and fall under the swing of Lieutenant Colonel Alva... no, that monster. Morgan took a deep breath.

He had to escape!

If it were just the dead coming back to life, he would still have the courage to fight.

To keep his position, he had already committed too many unforgivable mistakes. He would not give up unless absolutely necessary.

But these monsters were extraordinarily powerful, and their numbers were no less than theirs. Their overall strength far surpassed that of the branch soldiers.

There were only two paths.

Either concentrate their forces and fight to the death, or take advantage of the fact that the undead were currently scattered and hunting, paying him no attention, and flee.

Would he be a hero for one minute, or a coward for a lifetime?

To hell with heroic spirit!

Survival was victory!

With that thought, Morgan, ignoring the soldiers desperately blocking the attack in front of him, turned and ran.

Hearing the commotion, they looked back and watched Morgan's fleeing figure. A few soldiers froze for a second.

"Colo...nel?"

Slash!!

The Sword of Vengeance tore through the air, staining their clothes with blood.

Until they fell and died, the eyes of these soldiers were filled with disbelief. They weren't afraid of death, only confused as to why their colonel would abandon them.

This shouldn't have happened, right?

Didn't he arrest the combat hero who dealt with Kuro?

"Hmm, I smell the scent of resentment."

Holding his bell, Lowett strolled leisurely across the noisy training ground, as if walking in a tranquil moonlit garden, not a bloody slaughterhouse.

Turning his head, he looked at the black smoke seeping from the seven orifices of a soldier's head, and Lowett's lips curled up.

"Great waves wash over sand; even the smallest individual, given enough numbers, can give birth to anomalies."

It was black soul smoke that ordinary people couldn't see. The solidified soul core retained only a sliver of emotion, while rapidly disintegrating, clearing away all unnecessary "impurities."

Impurities belonging to "humans."

"Unfortunately, the intensity is limited, and the transformation is bound to fail."

"Oh well... Since you want to know the answer, I'll give you a hand."

Lowett stopped and placed his palm vertically on his brow, the bell tied to his thumb, and softly chanted.

Bang!!

The battlefield changes in an instant, one cannot be careless.

Seizing this heaven-sent opportunity, the surviving soldiers did not give up. Major Aiden had already noticed Lowett, who was strolling leisurely behind the zombies. From a second-floor window, he raised his flintlock, aimed for a long time, and now pulled the trigger.

"Lowett? I didn't expect him to be such a terrifying fellow!"

Major Aiden's lips curled up.

"But if I kill you, all the credit will be mine!"

Lieutenant Colonel Jordi failed in his duties, Colonel Morgan fled in fear of battle, and Klimans was nowhere to be found. It was he, Aiden, who turned the tide and saved the branch from dire straits!

He was determined to make this shot count.

Colonel Skinner could sever one of his arms, so why couldn't he?

He could already see himself receiving commendations and donning colonel's epaulets after this incident.

However, at this moment...

Ding!!

Something seemed to drift by. Was it the wind or something else?

Aiden's peripheral vision remained locked on Lowett. He saw a burst of sparks three meters in front of him, making a crisp sound.

"What?!"

His pupils contracted.

The bullet was blocked?

But what blocked it?

There was clearly nothing in that area!!

The next second, he had his answer.

A black phantom suddenly appeared, crouching on the windowsill.

The choppy hair that fell to his face obscured his features, but the five steel claws on his left hand, dug into the wooden windowsill, were all too familiar to Aiden.

"Ku..."

Screech!

"Ku... Cough cough... Cough!"

Thump...

With an expression of utter horror, Aiden clutched his torn throat and fell backward.

At the same time, Lowett finished his chant.

Jingle bells!

The crisp bell sound echoed across the training ground. Both the zombie puppets and the ordinary living people stopped their actions under the soul-shattering sound wave.

Then, a corpse's fingers dug into the ground, and it shakily crawled up.

Then came the second, the third... In the desperate and horrified eyes of the surviving soldiers, their fallen comrades stood up again, but they aimed their weapons at them.

Necromancy · Skeleton Revival!

If there are corpses, use them. If there are no corpses, summon them from the netherworld.

A Necromancer never fights alone.

"Go!"

"Bloody justice is the most beautiful."

Lowett said softly.

The next moment, the resurrected Zombie Puppets roared, like a tiger entering a flock of sheep.

There was only one exception.

"Why?"

The swaying zombie's face was full of confusion. It tilted its head in place, like it had a stroke, looking very confused.

"Why?"

It uttered clear syllables, standing out on this battlefield of roaring undead.

Lowett slowly approached, resting his chin on its shoulder, and said in its ear.

"Yeah, why?"

Ring ring!

Raising a hand with a bell, Lowett pointed towards the back door.

"Why don't you go ask him?"

Upon hearing this, the zombie's eyeballs rolled, and a light seemed to flash within them.

"Yes, go find him, why... why!!!"

A soft murmur suddenly turned into a scream. It went mad, dropped to all fours, and charged out like a beast.

I have Skeleton Revival.

I have Vengeful Spirit Creation.

Ah~

Vengeful Spirit Zombie!

"Now this will be interesting!"

Lowett took out a Den Den Mushi he had acquired along the way and fed it a piece of vegetable. The little creature with an orange-yellow shell and black lines had no interest in eating at the moment.

As he strode forward, a gust of wind blew past, and the Black Knight appeared behind Lowett.

No matter what evil thoughts its master had, it had only one thought.

Master's will is paramount!

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