"Huh?"
The Black Hand Legion members stared in confusion. They'd called Big Hugo over for backup—so why the hell was he suddenly on his knees?
But Hugo was drenched in sweat, his whole body trembling like a leaf. He looked like he'd just seen death itself.
He could feel it—an overwhelming pressure, a suffocating sense of danger. It was the kind of aura only a Zombie King could give off.
The Black Hand Legion didn't have much intel on Zombie Kings—their info was always a bit behind—but they'd all heard the rumors about the one from Los Angeles.
Word was, the LA Zombie King was freakishly handsome, always wore a spotless white dress shirt, and carried himself like he owned the world.
Now, staring at Ethan, Hugo's eyes widened in horror as the pieces clicked into place.
"H-He's the Zombie King from Los Angeles!"
"What?!"
The rest of the Black Hand Legion froze, their faces twisting in disbelief.
