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Tiger's brows knit together in disapproval. "Zhang Xiang," he said sharply, "Ethan is my guest. Don't make trouble."
But Zhang Xiang didn't back down. He turned his gaze to Tiger and said with stubborn pride, "Brother Tiger, I know you want him on our side—and I respect that. But if he wants to earn our trust, he should prove it. Let me test him."
Luke stepped forward before Ethan could answer, his voice like ice. "You're not worthy to fight Ethan. If you need to fight someone, fight me."
Zhang Xiang threw his head back and laughed, the sound deep and derisive. "You? You look like you'd break from a slap. The world really has turned upside down if kids like you think they can challenge me."
Ethan's lips quirked slightly. "Luke," he said calmly, "show mercy. Don't kill him."
The casualness of his tone only stoked Zhang Xiang's anger. His nostrils flared. "Mercy? You're talking as if I'm already dead!"
Luke, unfazed, simply nodded and gestured toward the open area in the middle of the room. "You first," he said coldly. "Don't worry—I'll make sure you can still eat afterward."
Zhang Xiang's grin vanished. He stepped forward, every movement heavy and controlled. He raised his fists in front of him, his stance low and coiled—predator-like. The wooden floor creaked beneath his boots. His shoulders flexed, and the air seemed to thrum with tension.
He was a killer. Before the Z-Age, Zhang Xiang had fought underground matches, where the rules were simple—kill or be killed. Seven men had died beneath his fists. That experience had given him arrogance, yes—but also lethality.
Luke stood motionless, his eyes half-lidded, body relaxed, like a calm lake before the storm. His breathing was steady, his center unshaken. Ethan could see it—focus. Luke wasn't taunting. He was waiting for the right moment to strike.
Tiger's brow furrowed as he studied Luke. Something about the boy's calm didn't fit the situation. There was no tremor, no hint of fear. His instincts screamed that this would not end as Zhang Xiang expected.
He leaned toward Ethan and said quietly, "Little brother Ethan, are you sure about this? Zhang Xiang's fists… they're not weak."
Ethan's lips curved into a knowing smirk. "I know," he said softly. "That's why I'm letting him go first."
Tiger looked at Ethan for a long moment, then back at Luke, his expression mixed with curiosity and unease. For the first time in a long while, he couldn't read the outcome. And in the Z-Age, uncertainty was more terrifying than death itself.
Tiger leaned back slightly in his chair, his fingers drumming on the table. "Boss Tiger! You can rest assured," Ethan said with an easy smile, his tone calm yet confident. "You'll be presiding over this match yourself."
Ethan's eyes gleamed faintly, betraying a quiet amusement. Luke had already advanced to Level 10 and successfully changed his class.
The boy was no longer just an ordinary survivor — he was a weapon, honed and silent. Ethan had even given him a Level 2 Protective Garment, a rare item used by him in battles. Its texture shimmered faintly under the dim light — synthetic fiber interwoven with strange energy lines that could resist small-caliber rounds.
Among all of them, Luke now stood second only to Ethan — and, of course, Spawn, the skeletal monster whose loyalty and strength defied reason. Against ordinary men, Luke was unstoppable.
Tiger, seeing Ethan's confidence, gave a low chuckle, his sharp eyes narrowing. "Alright then!" he announced, his deep voice echoing across the room. "The match begins!"
Zhang Xiang cracked his neck, muscles tensing beneath his torn vest. A cruel grin stretched across his scarred face as he bared his teeth. "Boy," he growled, "you're a dead man!"
With the roar of a beast, Zhang Xiang lunged forward. His movement was fast — too fast for the untrained eye to follow — like a starving cheetah pouncing on its prey. His fist shot out, aiming straight for Luke's nose, the air cracking with the sheer force behind it.
But Luke was calm.
At the last instant, his body shifted slightly to the left — effortless, smooth, like water flowing around a stone. The punch grazed air.
Then came Luke's counterattack.
His fist blurred, driving deep into Zhang Xiang's abdomen. There was no wasted motion, no sound — only the dull, brutal thud of impact. The strength Luke released in that instant was overwhelming — an explosion of refined power born from system enhancements.
Zhang Xiang's body folded like paper. His breath left him in a sharp gasp as he dropped to his knees, clutching his stomach, eyes wide with disbelief and pain. A strangled groan escaped his lips before he collapsed fully, curling up on the floor, face twisted in agony.
The room fell silent.
The only sound was the faint hum of the flickering light above and Zhang Xiang's labored breathing. The once-smug enforcer lay trembling, sweat beading across his forehead. Even the men who had seen blood and death countless times couldn't hide their shock.
Lei Chen's eyes narrowed dangerously. His massive frame tensed like a coiled spring as he studied Luke. 'That wasn't luck,' he thought grimly.' That was pure strength and technique. Even he — Tiger's strongest fighter — wouldn't have been able to put Zhang Xiang down that quickly.'
Tiger sat back in his chair, studying Luke with eyes that gleamed with interest rather than fear. Then, slowly, he began to clap.
"Excellent!" he exclaimed, his deep laughter booming through the room. "Wonderful skill! Young man, you've got a bright future ahead."
Luke said nothing. He only gave a curt nod and walked back to Ethan's side, his face calm, his breathing steady — as if he hadn't just crushed one of the strongest men in the village with a single blow.
Tiger smiled approvingly. "Truly remarkable."
He clapped his hands twice, and the door opened. A young woman stepped inside — around twenty-five, with long black hair tied neatly behind her back and soft features that carried a quiet sadness in cheongsam that highlighted her figure. Even now, in this broken world, she carried herself with the grace of someone who once lived a normal life.
"Wang Ying," Tiger said flatly, without looking at her. "Help the Third Master to rest."
"Yes, Boss Tiger," she replied softly, her tone submissive yet gentle.
She hurried over to help Zhang Xiang up, but the fallen brute snarled, his face twisting with humiliation. "Get your filthy hands off me, you whore!" he spat, and before she could react, his hand lashed out, striking her across the face with a sharp crack.
Wang Ying stumbled back, clutching her cheek, her eyes filling with tears. The red imprint of his hand stood out starkly against her pale skin. For a heartbeat, she looked like she might speak — might fight back — but she didn't. She lowered her head and whispered, "Yes… Third Master."
No one moved.
Tiger's expression didn't change. He simply looked away, as though the moment hadn't happened. "Withdraw," he said coldly. "Wang Ying."
Wang Ying bit her lip, whispered, "Yes, Boss Tiger," and left the room, her steps slow and quiet. The sound of the door closing behind her felt like a weight pressing on everyone's chest.
Even Ethan's eyes darkened slightly. This was the world now — cruelty was casual, and kindness came second to survival.
Tiger broke the silence with a faint chuckle, as if shaking off the tension. His eyes, sharp and calculating once again, drifted toward the lone skeleton standing silently beside Ethan.
"So, Ethan," Tiger began, curiosity lacing his voice. "That thing — your skeleton. Tell me… how did you get it?"
The faint metallic clink of Spawn's bones echoed softly as it turned its head toward Tiger, the hollow sockets gleaming faintly red in the dim light. A chill ran through the air, and a few men in the room subconsciously reached for their rifles.
Tiger, however, didn't flinch. His eyes gleamed with both envy and fascination. He had seen it — the way Spawn moved like a phantom, bullets bouncing harmlessly off its bones, cleaving men apart with unnatural strength. If not for the standoff earlier, that creature could have wiped out his entire team.
Ethan smiled lightly. "This?" he said, almost teasingly. "Just a skill summon."
Tiger's brows lifted. "Skill summon?"
It was not some kind of secret, anyone could have guessed it as long as they weren't living under a rock for hundreds of years. Anyone who has played a RPG game and read a novel, manga, or manhwa should know all this.
Tiger leaned forward slightly, his interest deepening. "Then tell me — how do I get a skill like that?"
The room grew quiet again. Lei Chen and Chen Yan both turned toward Ethan, their attention sharp. In this age, strength was everything — and power like Ethan's could make the difference between life and extinction.
Ethan didn't hesitate. "After killing zombies in close combat," he explained, "there's a chance they'll drop skill books. When you use those books, you can learn new abilities. That's how I got this skill."
It sounded simple, almost laughably so — but the implications hit like a hammer.
Tiger and his men exchanged looks. Frowning deeply, they fell into silence. They'd killed hundreds of zombies before, but always from a distance — rifles, shotguns, even grenades. Never up close. Why risk infection when bullets worked just fine? The thought of wrestling a zombie hand-to-hand was madness.
After all, if there are guns, who would use a wooden rod to fight zombies in close combat, isn't that idiotic?
And yet…
They had all heard the voice of God when the world changed. They had all seen the strange messages flash before their eyes, items materializing out of nowhere. The "Novice Staff," the "System Interface" — these were real.
Tiger exhaled slowly, his eyes narrowing at Ethan. For the first time, he understood. This man wasn't just lucky. He was dangerous — smart enough to read the new world's rules before anyone else, and bold enough to use them.
He's walking the line between genius and madness, Tiger thought. But in this world… maybe that's what survival really means.
Just as everyone was lost in their thoughts after the earlier fight, a tall, heavyset man with a kind yet simple face walked in, his boots leaving dusty prints across the wooden floor. He spoke in a slightly nervous tone, "Boss Tiger, the food is ready."
Tiger nodded slowly, then turned toward Ethan with a welcoming grin. "Ethan, it's been a long, hard day on the road for you and your people. Come, let's share a meal. You're my guests tonight."