Since Heartland—the most technologically advanced region on the zombie continent Necroterra—had picked up the signal, a good number of Zombie Kings had flown in to Eastreach.
All eyes turned skyward as the crowd of Zombie Kings looked up, watching intently.
The ones arriving from Heartland drew even more attention.
"Another big shot just landed!"
"Who do you think it is this time?"
"No clue…"
"…"
Moments later, the roar of a descending aircraft filled the air. Its thrusters flared, then cut off with a loud clang as it touched down, bouncing slightly on impact and kicking up a thick cloud of dust.
As the hatch hissed open, a group of Zombie Kings stepped out.
They were no pushovers—each one was at least SS-rank.
Leading the pack was a towering figure, easily ten feet tall. He was shirtless, his body a mass of bulging muscle like a living mountain. His skin was a mottled gray-blue, and thick veins coiled beneath it like snakes, pulsing with raw energy.
