Strongest Boyfriend In The Apocalypse: Every Girl Depends On Me!-Chapter 39: Partnership At The Commander’s Office

Right near the Commander’s residence, two figures were standing against seven evolved zombies who were already charging with insane aggressiveness.

Ethan gave Karen a look, and it happened that Karen was looking at him as well, and together, they nodded, understanding that this was their job, as the Commander was staring in fear while hiding behind closed doors.

The rifles the Special Force officers were holding were at the other side, and the only way they were going to get to them was if they got through the group of these horrifying monsters.

It was at this point that Ethan considered a different option, and that was using the knife he had at the side of his belt.

He would not want to summon his baseball bat or perhaps a new rifle, because he knew that Karen would surely notice, and it could become a serious problem later on.

Ethan slowly reached for the knife at his belt, wrapping his fingers tightly around the handle as he pulled it free, the cold metal sending a sharp signal through his palm that snapped his focus into place.

The blade was not long, not impressive, and definitely not meant for fighting monsters like these, but it was all he had, and at that moment, it was more than enough. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Karen doing the same thing, pulling out a knife of his own, slightly longer than Ethan’s, its edge worn but clearly sharpened with care.

The zombies were already closing in.

Six of them moved in uneven but aggressive steps, their arms clutching broken planks, metal rods, chunks of concrete, and even a shattered chair leg, while the seventh one, the Level 5, stayed slightly behind them, its pale eyes watching, calculating, its body crouched as though ready to explode forward at any second. That one was different. Smarter. Faster. Dangerous in a way the others were not.

"Take the left," Karen muttered under his breath, his voice low but sharp.

Ethan did not reply. He did not need to.

The first Level 4 zombie lunged at him with a rusted metal pipe raised high, its mouth open wide as it let out a broken scream that sounded more like choking air than a voice. Ethan stepped forward instead of back, twisting his body just enough for the pipe to miss his head by inches, and in the same motion, he drove his knife upward into the zombie’s throat.

The blade sank in deeper than he expected, warm blood spraying across his arm as the zombie staggered, choking, before collapsing at his feet.

There was no time to breathe.

Another zombie rushed him from the side, swinging a wooden plank wildly, and Ethan barely managed to raise his arm in time, the plank crashing into his forearm with a painful jolt that nearly made him drop the knife. He grit his teeth, ignored the pain, and kicked forward hard, his foot slamming into the zombie’s knee and snapping it sideways. As it fell, Ethan stabbed downward again and again until it stopped moving.

Karen was already fighting two of them at once, his movements fast and brutal, slashing at exposed necks and faces, using speed and anger more than skill. One of the zombies managed to graze his shoulder with a broken rod, tearing fabric and skin, but Karen only snarled and drove his knife into its skull with enough force to bury the blade halfway.

The third Level 4 came at Ethan low, swinging a chunk of concrete toward his legs. Ethan jumped back, but not fast enough, and the concrete clipped his shin, sending a sharp pain shooting upward. He stumbled, nearly losing his balance, and the zombie took advantage of it, lunging forward with surprising speed. Ethan rolled to the side just as the object slammed down where his head had been, and before the zombie could recover, he sprang up and buried his knife into its eye, twisting hard until the head snapped to the side.

By now, blood was everywhere.

The ground was slick, the air heavy with the smell of rot and iron, and Ethan’s breathing had turned rough as sweat poured down his face. His arms were starting to burn, his legs aching from constant movement, but there were still more.

Two more Level 4 zombies rushed him together, one swinging a metal bar while the other grabbed at his jacket, its grip stronger than he expected. Ethan cursed under his breath as he slammed his forehead into the zombie holding him, feeling bone crack, then shoved it backward into the other one. The moment they tangled together, Ethan lunged forward and stabbed repeatedly, aiming for necks, eyes, and any weak point he could find, until both finally collapsed in a heap.

That left one more Level 4.

It charged Karen from behind.

Ethan saw it too late to shout, but Karen turned just in time, barely blocking the attack with his arm as the zombie slammed a broken chair leg into his ribs. Karen gasped, pain flashing across his face, but he grabbed the zombie by the collar, slammed his head into the wall once, twice, and then plunged the knife into its throat, holding it there until it went still. 𝓯𝙧𝓮𝓮𝒘𝓮𝙗𝙣𝒐𝒗𝒆𝓵.𝓬𝓸𝒎

For a brief moment, everything went quiet.

Six bodies lay scattered across the ground.

And then there was only one left.

The Level 5 moved.

It was faster than Ethan expected, faster than anything he had faced before, its body blurring as it darted forward in a sudden burst of speed that closed the distance in seconds. It did not scream or roar like the others. It stayed silent, focused, and when it struck, it struck hard.

Karen was the first target.

The Level 5 slammed into him shoulder-first, sending him flying backward into the wall with a sickening sound. Karen’s head snapped to the side as he hit the ground, his knife skidding away, and he did not get back up.

"Damn it!" Ethan shouted without thinking, understanding what that could have caused even though he didn’t give a damn for him.

The zombie turned toward him.

This one was stronger. Smarter. Its movements were sharp and controlled, its eyes locked onto Ethan as if it understood exactly who the real threat was. It circled him slowly, its feet crunching over broken debris, then suddenly lunged.

Ethan barely dodged, the claws grazing his chest as he rolled across the ground. He scrambled to his feet, his heart pounding violently, and slashed out with his knife, but the zombie knocked his arm aside with ease and sent him crashing backward with a powerful kick.

Pain exploded through Ethan’s back as he hit the ground.

The Level 5 was on him instantly, its weight pressing down as it tried to pin him, its teeth snapping inches from his face. Ethan screamed in rage and desperation as he jammed his forearm against its throat, his other hand gripping the knife tightly. The blade was too short. Too weak. He could feel his strength fading.

"No!" he shouted, pushing with everything he had.

The zombie snarled and raised its arm to strike.

Ethan twisted his wrist and plunged the knife upward into the side of its neck, not deep enough to kill it, but enough to make it jerk back in surprise. He rolled free, gasping for air, and staggered to his feet just as the zombie recovered and charged again.

This time, Ethan did not run... No... Running wasn’t an option at all.

He met it head-on.

He ducked under its swing, slashed at its legs, stabbed its ribs, and struck again and again, each hit draining what little strength he had left. The zombie slammed him into the wall, cracking the metal behind him, and Ethan tasted blood as pain flared across his body. But he did not stop. He could not stop.

With a final desperate roar, Ethan leaped forward, climbed onto the zombie’s back, wrapped his arm around its neck, and drove the knife straight into the base of its skull with everything he had left. He felt resistance, then a sudden give, and the zombie collapsed forward, smashing into the ground and going completely still.

Silence followed.

Ethan slid down the wall, gasping, shaking, his knife slipping from his blood-soaked hand. His vision blurred as he forced himself to stand, panic flooding him as he turned his head, searching for Karen.

"Karen?" he called.

He got no response at that point, but at that point he wouldn’t say he didn’t have a suspect because there was no way anyone else could eventually here, right?

Then he heard footsteps behind him.

Slow. Calm yet confident.

"Guess who’s going to pay for what happened to Lance, even though he’s not the one who did it?"

Ethan froze.

That voice... It was so familiar that his face tightened after recognising who it was.

He turned slowly, and he turned to see exactly who he had expected.

Karen stood there, unharmed, holding the two rifles taken from the fallen officers, both barrels aimed directly at Ethan, his face twisted into a cold, satisfied smile.

"Now, Ethan," Karen said quietly, "do you have any last words?"