Meanwhile, a off-road vehicle rolled into Tribeca. Their eyes widened as they took in the luxurious Mansions surrounding them, each house grander than the last.

“Man, are all rich people’s homes this fancy?” Joey, the youngest, muttered in awe as he looked around.

Marco, the second brother, wasn’t as distracted. “Hold up,” he said, pointing to fresh, bloodstained tire tracks on the road. “Someone’s been here already.”

The other two immediately noticed the same thing. For a gated community, it was oddly quiet—no zombies roamed the streets, and even the security guards seemed absent.

“What should we do, big brother?” Joey asked, nervousness creeping into his voice.

“What do you think?” Tony responded, lifting his shotgun with a hardened expression. “If someone’s here, we have the firepower to deal with them.”

“Yeah, you’re right, big brother,” Marco added, nodding with confidence. With their nerves steeled, they followed the tire tracks toward Mansion No. 9, where Zack had been working.

When they arrived nearby, Tony turned to his youngest brother. “Third, go check out how many people are in there.”

Joey obeyed, slipping out of the car and creeping toward the Mansion. Peering through a window, he spotted Sophia’s silhouette as she passed by. His eyes lit up, and he waved his brothers over excitedly. “There’s a woman inside!” he whispered eagerly. Both Tony and Marco perked up, grins spreading across their faces as they began to approach.

Suddenly—Bang!

A thunderous gunshot rang out. Joey screamed, clutching his face as blood dripped through his fingers.

The noise agitated zombies nearby, their growls intensifying as they clawed at barriers and walls. Despite their injuries, the brothers quickly realized they were facing a much stronger opponent than expected. "Someone’s here!" Tony shouted. "Third, get back!"

Clutching his bleeding face, Joey stumbled back toward the car. Another shot rang out from Mansion No. 9’s third-floor balcony. Zack took aim, firing a blast that clipped Joey’s leg, sending him sprawling in pain.

Panicked, Tony and Marco dragged their wounded brother into the car and sped off, the vehicle rattling as they escaped.

“Pity…” Zack muttered as he lowered his shotgun. The distance had lessened the blast’s impact, with only a few pellets hitting Joey. Still, he’d sent a clear message—the Mansion was defended, and his weapon wasn’t just for show.

“Ego,” he ordered coldly, “keep an eye on them.”

If they thought they could return here unscathed, they were sorely mistaken.

Zack waited until Sophia had fallen asleep before slipping out of the Mansion, his backpack slung over one shoulder. In his hand, he held an unusual-looking firearm.

This weapon was centered around a high-compression air tank at its rear, capable of firing seven to ten steel balls with remarkable force before needing to be re-pressurized. An electric pump attached to the air tank automatically refilled the pressure when the shooting stopped, only taking a few seconds to reach optimal power. There was also a manual bolt near the front—one firm pull could deliver an extra boost of power for the next shot. The nail gun used a specialized magazine that held fifty steel balls, ensuring Zack was well-equipped for what lay ahead.

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“Ego, report the target’s location,” Zack said quietly, his voice low and controlled.

“Sir, the target is currently located in Mansion No. 4,” Ego replied promptly.

Zack nodded, absorbing the information. To avoid attracting unwanted attention, he chose to walk instead of drive, heading toward Mansion No. 4 under the cover of darkness. Since the outbreak, this was the first time he ventured out at night. Luckily, the skies were clear, and the moon provided enough light to navigate, reducing the risk of running into stray zombies.

Ten minutes later, he arrived at his destination. On the way, he encountered two zombies. These creatures, now seemingly more active at night, had crawled over the walls from a neighboring Mansion. They snarled and staggered toward him, but Zack took the opportunity to test his new gun. He took aim, and with impressive accuracy, each shot hit its mark, landing precisely between the zombies' eyes. The results boosted his confidence for what he was about to do.

As he approached Mansion No. 4, he heard loud, angry voices from within, laced with curses and painful cries.

“Brothers! That bastard shot my balls!” Joey howled from inside, his voice thick with pain. “The Russo family name ends with me…”

Nearby, his brother Marco tried to calm him. “It’s fine, we’ve got the older brothers to carry the name. Now quit thrashing, or you’ll start bleeding again.”

In the corner, Tony, the eldest, gripped a rough-looking shotgun, his eyes gleaming with a cold, venomous rage. He spat, “Third Brother, did you see how many of them were there?”

“Only two,” Joey answered, his face contorted with anger and shame. “A man and… and some woman. A pretty one, too, damn it…”

“Only two, and the other one’s a girl?” Tony’s face twisted into a wicked grin as he exchanged glances with Marco. “Perfect,” he said softly, his tone full of malice.

Marco rubbed his hands together eagerly. “So, when do we strike?”

“Not now. That punk has a gun, and he’ll be on guard if we go now,” Tony whispered, his gaze cold. “Early morning is best. He’ll be asleep by then.”

“Yes, Brother,” Marco agreed, his grin widening.

“We’ll kill that boy and take the girl for ourselves,” Tony sneered, his eyes glinting with sadistic glee. Even Joey managed a twisted smile despite his pain.

Unbeknownst to them, Zack had scaled the courtyard wall and crept close enough to overhear every vile word. He stifled a laugh when he heard Joey, the one he’d shot, mutter about wanting to kill and eat his flesh.

“Did you hear that, Ego?” Zack chuckled softly, a smirk creeping across his face. “They’re talking about killing me and eating me. How charming.”

“This is unacceptable,” Ego replied, his voice taking on a steely edge. The brothers had officially become high-threat targets in Ego’s assessment.

“Sir, I suggest entering the house through the back door,” Ego advised after a quick scan of the Mansion’s layout.

Zack followed the advice, moving stealthily toward the back of the Mansion. Surprisingly, these men hadn’t even bothered to lock the back door, a reckless oversight. Silently, he pushed the door open and slipped inside, creeping down the hallway.

The brothers were still absorbed in their delusions. “Soon, we’ll have our own little survivor’s base,” Marco was saying. “We’ll be living like kings!”

Suddenly, there was a quiet, muffled sound, and Tony’s voice stopped abruptly. His shotgun clattered to the floor as he staggered, a small round hole in his forehead trickling blood mixed with brain matter. Zack had fired a single, precise shot, taking out the strongest first.

“Big Brother?” Marco turned, confusion flashing in his eyes. Then he saw his eldest brother slump to the floor, dead.

Fury contorting his face, Marco grabbed for the shotgun on the ground. But Zack’s reaction was swift. He squeezed the trigger twice, each steel ball finding its target. The shots punctured Marco’s lungs and heart, sending him crumpling to the floor, blood bubbling from his mouth as he tried to speak.