The city was empty. The streets were piled with charred wreckage from burned-out cars, and the blood people had once left behind had long since been washed away by rain, as though nothing had ever happened.
But the Hunger Virus was too powerful. Whenever that intense feeling of emptiness struck, no hero could resist its pull. As a result, every animal and plant had been swept clean by the Zombie Heroes, without even a blade of grass left behind.
After becoming zombies, they were doomed to constantly consume vast quantities of carbon-based life, cycling endlessly between reason and madness.
They could not eat other zombies. Not only did their kind smell terrible, they were not very filling either.
Peter kept sniffing as he traveled. He no longer hoped to find living people to taste. His targets were cockroaches, bugs, even mites—anything that had escaped the other Heroes' slaughter would do.
But how could it be that easy? Every Zombie Hero had their own strengths. Mister Stark, for example, had invented a biomass scanner. Once activated, it projected every living creature within several kilometers onto his armor's internal display, after which he would deploy the Armor Family Bucket for large-scale hunting.
He ate until his mouth was dripping with grease, while loser zombies like Peter could only drool.
But by now, every edible creature on Earth had long been eaten. Everyone was starving, and all their hopes rested on Doctor Reed. Their gaze had turned toward Parallel Worlds.
As for whether the Earth hanging in the sky could be eaten, and how they were supposed to eat it, that would have to be discussed at a meeting.
Peter suddenly stopped in midair and sniffed beneath his tattered mask.
"Sniff, sniff. Smells so good! Human flesh!"
His eyes flew wide open. To