The Reborn Young Master's Guide to Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse BL-Chapter 14: Step Fourteen: Galas Are Kill Zones

Because where the spotlight shines, danger follows. Get armed and make for the exit—fast.

From inside the ballroom, the music abruptly faded.

A spotlight lit the stage as the host of the charity gala, Holland Winters stepped forward.

Holland’s black uniform adorned with polished medals highlighted his broad shoulders and his white slicked back hair.

Holland Winters was once the most feared general on the continent.

And Holland, the retired legend, raised his glass.

"Tonight," He declared, voice rich and commanding, "we gathered here not for War, but for hope. Although the War between nations may have ended 3 years ago, we never know what the world might jump at us."

Holland continued, "The Winters Corps Charity Gala is a testament to the resilience of our people and the strength of our partnerships. In particular, I would like to acknowledge our newest strategic alliance..."

He paused, gaze landing on Caspian and Asher.

A murmur rippled through the crowd.

Asher stiffened.

Caspian blinked.

"...between the Greyson family and the Winters family. Asher Greyson and the Young General, Caspian Winters, will be leading our joint youth defense initiative for the future generations of soilders...—"

"What?!"

"A Greyson with a Winters? Since when—?"

"Weren’t they rivals? Blood enemies—?"

"Didn’t the Greysons try to blackmail—?"

Asher’s hand tightened on his glass.

Caspian exhaled sharply.

"I didn’t think he’d go that far."

"Tell him to ask first before pulling shit like this," Asher muttered.

"—the alliance marks a turning point in our commitment to protect the Capital. My grandson and his... trusted partner will represent our hope for the future." Holland announced.

Asher turned away, but not fast enough to miss the sharp glances.

The whispers.

The veiled sneers.

Asher’s lip curled in disdain.

Let them talk.

Behind him, Caspian leaned in, "You’re really not going to say anything?"

"I’ll let my silence speak," Asher said, "It says: fuck off."

Caspian huffed a breath—almost a laugh.

Then the world cracked.

A shriek pierced the ballroom: high, raw, and guttural.

The lights flickered.

Countless screams were heard.

Then came the sickening wet thud of flesh on the tile.

Asher’s eyes snapped toward the crowd.

It was chaotic everywhere.

One of the guests convulsed violently on the floor, limbs jerking.

Then she snapped—head jerking upward, mouth unhinging into a wet, gaping maw.

Her eyes were glowing white.

Caspian moved instantly, shoving Asher behind him.

Caspian shielded Asher with his body as the woman lunged, clawing into another guest’s face.

Blood splattered on the floor.

"What the...? Is this part of the show?" Someone gasped.

Then another guest dropped.

Then another.

The person who fell to the floor was screaming as black sludge oozed from their pores.

The guest was changing.

No.

Turning.

Asher’s pupils narrowed.

It’s already here.

From the shadows, Rene was missing along with Cain and Brad.

Cowards.

"It’s the virus," Asher said lowly, stepping forward.

"It’s not supposed to be here yet. But it’s here."

"Virus?" Caspian demanded, grabbing his arm.

"How the hell do you know—?"

But before Asher could answer, a harsh voice cut through the noise.

"EVERYONE TO THE WEST EXIT! MOVE NOW!"

It was General Holland.

Already drawing his pistol with a speed that belied his age, the old man shot a lunging zombie clean in the head, never blinking.

Blood sprayed across his medals.

"General! Arm the civilians! Prioritize escape routes! That exit leads to the secure motorcade!" Holland barked with a regal air of authority.

"Yes, sir!"

Caspian spun into action, issuing orders to his subcoordinates in rapid succession.

His voice was like a blade—sharp, cold, and impossible to ignore.

"Luke, Syke to the left. Bryan, with me." Caspian ordered.

Caspian glanced at Asher, and seeing his steely resolve, Caspian knew Asher could handle his own.

With this in mind, Caspian charged forward, creating a somewhat viable pathway to the exit.

Seeing this, hopeful survivors hurriedly chased after the Young General.

Asher glanced around the room and spotted his brothers behind the bar.

Asher rushed over to the bar, dodging a zombie who tried to take a chunk out of his neck.

Finally reaching the bar, his lips twitched watching the two.

The two boys were arguing over who gets first dibs to open the hidden weapon crate from under the bar.

"Brothers."

Kieran and James froze, slowly looking up with sheepish expressions.

"Open it."

Kieran shivered and hurriedly flipped open the case, tossing pistols and combat knives on the ground before selecting a gun and a knife.

James grinned as he said, "I always wanted to crash a party."

"This isn’t a time for jokes," Asher said as he grabbed a knife without hesitation, his lightning simmering just beneath his skin.

He wouldn’t reveal his abilities.

Not yet.

Not unless he had to.

Zombies were pouring in from the hallways now.

Some were in tuxedos, some half-eaten, some still twitching with viral foam.

Kieran slashed the throat of a former banker turned monster, then shoved him into a table.

"Gross."

James ducked a swipe, planted a roundhouse kick, then stabbed upward through the chin of another.

"You always get the fun ones."

They carved a path through bodies and blood, the path formed by Caspian having gotten narrower than before.

Asher noticed the General up ahead, closest to the exit.

Holland shot with precision from the stage covering his grandson’s back, each bullet a kill shot.

Holland didn’t flinch, didn’t miss and didn’t hesitate.

Asher couldn’t help but be impressed.

Seeing Caspian finally rush through the exit, Asher suddenly changed directions.

"Brothers, go on without me. I gotta kidnap a stubborn old geezer." Asher grinned, cunningly.

James and Kieran nodded before following the survivors out to the exit.

The amount of live survivors dwindled as many made it to the exit already.

The zombies then faced their attention to the sole conductor of sound: Holland.

He was shooting rounds and rounds of bullets, never stopping.

The zombies started to topple over each other, trying to get to him on the high stage.

Some zombies even attempted to climb the stairs located on the right and left side, yet they were far too weak and sluggish to even lift a foot up the stairs.

However, because of the collapsing zombies, the zombies rose like a stepping ladder.

Beads of sweat danced on Holland’s face.

’At least Cass is safe.’ Holland thought, his face grim.

All his exits were blocked to escape.

With a final burst of energy, Holland let out a roar cry, further enraging the zombies below, their mouth salivating.

Holland began to shoot like crazy before he finally ran out of ammo.

"What a bad day to die," he muttered.

From behind Holland’s shadows, Asher materialized. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶

The air shimmered faintly, like heat waves rising off scorched pavement, and then Asher stepped out, calm, precise, untouched by the chaos.

He had used the void passage, a combination of his space ability mixed with his darkness ability that Silvia taught him, but more than that, he’d folded the shadows themselves into a threadbare path between points.

Unlike teleportation, which distorted time and left ripples in the air, and would require a higher rank, his method let him travel through the world instead of around it, slipping between the shadows where light failed to reach.

The undead didn’t notice him.

They couldn’t.

Asher wasn’t walking on the same plane as them.

"Too bad old man. I’m kidnapping you." Asher said with a smirk.

"Young man!" Holland was shocked and thrilled.

Asher picked Holland up like a sack of potatoes, and began to slice his way through the left side of the stairs, using his void passage to slip through the shadows.

As Asher made it to the ground level, he noticed that the path to the exit was partially blocked with overturned tables and corpses.

Flames licked the edge of the drapes.

"Behind you!" Holland shouted.

Asher spun, planting a blade into a zombie’s eye.

Black blood soaked his sleeve.

"Go, young man! The armored car’s outside!"

They burst out the exit as more screams echoed behind them.

The cold night hit like a slap.

The air smelled of ash and ozone.

Then—

Rain.

But it wasn’t normal.

It was black.

Thick, ink-like droplets falling from the lavender sky.

Asher stared upward, stunned.

Black rain already?

They reached the armored military vehicle—massive, matte black, reinforced.

Kieran yanked open the hatch as Asher slid in, Holland still hoisted over his shoulder.

Holland gunned down two more infected before adjusting himself into an upright position..

Caspian, in the passenger seat, turned back to look.

"Asher—?"

Asher was already watching him.

Asher noticed how Caspian’s hands trembled now.

How frost gathered on the edge of his collar.

How Caspian’s breath fogged in the night.

"Caspian," Asher said sharply, "What’s wrong?"

"I..."

Caspian swayed.

Asher lunged forward, catching him.

Caspian’s skin was ice cold.

His body convulsed once and then collapsed in Asher’s arms.

Asher’s heart dropped.

"Drive! Now!"

The rain poured even more heavily

The purple moon glowed brighter.

And Caspian’s fingers sparked with the first traces of frost.