Chapter 114: Empty City
Meanwhile, several kilometers above the ruined cities, a formation of sleek black aircraft pierced through the clouds with disciplined precision. Unlike the scattered helicopters belonging to ordinary military forces, these aircraft were built exclusively for the Corrode Family.
Every jet possessed an angular frame coated in a strange alloy that reflected almost no sunlight, making them appear like shadows gliding through the heavens.
Their engines produced a low, controlled hum instead of the deafening roar expected from machines traveling at such tremendous speeds, a testament to technology the outside world had never been allowed to witness.
Inside the lead aircraft, the atmosphere remained calm despite the apocalypse unfolding beneath them. Uniformed personnel continuously monitored countless holographic screens displaying satellite imagery, thermal signatures, atmospheric readings, parasite fluctuations, and mutated lifeform activity.
Several family members sat quietly, observing every incoming report without speaking unnecessarily. Unlike ordinary survivors who viewed the apocalypse as an unexpected catastrophe, the Corrode Family had anticipated this day for generations.
Their ancestors had preserved countless records, invested immeasurable wealth into military development, and established hidden fortresses precisely because they believed civilization would eventually face an evolutionary disaster. Even so, today’s events had already exceeded many of their oldest predictions.
A live broadcast had also been established throughout the family’s private network.
Every aircraft continuously transmitted high-definition footage toward the underground command center, allowing the elders, strategists, researchers, and military officers to observe everything in real time.
The livestream was not intended for the public. It existed solely so every important member of the Corrode Family could witness the condition of humanity without relying on delayed reports.
One of the younger commanders stood near the panoramic observation window while studying the ruined landscape below.
"The previous city contained approximately three hundred thousand infected individuals," he reported calmly. "The undead had already occupied every district before our arrival, while mutated beasts established territorial boundaries around the industrial sector. There were also at least seven King-class signatures detected before we departed."
Another officer nodded before switching the display toward another region.
"The city before that was even worse. Almost every surviving human had either been infected or driven underground. Multiple mutated birds dominated the skyline, and the roads had become hunting grounds for evolved creatures."
The older family members listened quietly.
Everything matched the ancient predictions.
Civilizations collapsed.
Monsters claimed territories.
Humanity struggled merely to survive.
Nothing surprised them anymore.
Soon, the aircraft formation crossed another mountain range before entering the airspace above an unfamiliar city.
One of the reconnaissance specialists frowned.
"...That’s strange."
Several nearby officers immediately turned toward him.
"What happened?"
The specialist enlarged the surveillance feed before speaking slowly.
"There are almost no large-scale undead movements."
Another operator quickly checked the thermal imaging.
"The streets are nearly empty."
A third technician activated biological scanners.
"No significant concentrations of mutated beasts detected either."
The room gradually became quieter.
That...
Made no sense.
Every city they had visited during the past several hours followed nearly identical patterns. Either endless hordes of undead wandered the streets, or powerful mutated beasts occupied the territory after driving weaker creatures away.
This city...
Had neither.
The aircraft slowly descended to obtain a clearer view.
The streets below remained eerily still.
Abandoned vehicles sat exactly where their owners had left them.
Traffic lights continued changing colors despite there being no traffic to direct.
Apartment buildings stood largely intact.
Shops remained open.
Windows reflected the afternoon sunlight.
Everything looked almost...
Normal.
Yet that normality itself felt profoundly disturbing.
One middle-aged family member slowly folded his arms.
"I don’t like this."
Another nodded.
"There should be something here."
"There always is."
The lead pilot reduced the aircraft’s speed.
"We’re detecting very few life signs."
The reconnaissance specialist swallowed unconsciously.
"...Too few."
Silence filled the cabin.
Every experienced member present instinctively understood something was wrong.
Cities did not become empty.
Not naturally.
Not during an apocalypse.
One elderly researcher quietly adjusted his glasses before speaking.
"Continue scanning."
Another operator immediately obeyed.
Long-range parasite detection.
Nothing unusual.
Mutated energy readings.
Minimal.
Biological signatures.
Scattered.
Undead concentrations.
Almost nonexistent.
The results only deepened everyone’s unease.
One young soldier forced a laugh.
"Perhaps the monsters simply migrated somewhere else."
No one answered him.
Another family member slowly approached the observation window.
His sharp eyes carefully examined every street below.
No movement.
No wandering undead.
No hunting beasts.
No frightened survivors waving for help.
Not even birds circled above the buildings.
The city appeared...
Dead.
Not because it had been destroyed.
Because everything inside seemed to have disappeared.
A cold feeling gradually settled over everyone inside the aircraft.
Suddenly—
The communications officer frowned.
"Signal interference."
Another technician immediately looked up.
"Our livestream quality is dropping."
The holographic displays flickered.
Static briefly crossed several monitors.
The pilot glanced toward the communications console.
"Can command still hear us?"
The communications officer adjusted several controls.
"I’m attempting to stabilize the connection."
For several seconds, the transmission returned to normal.
Everyone relaxed slightly.
Then every monitor suddenly erupted into violent static.
The live camera feeds distorted.
Audio dissolved into sharp bursts of noise.
One after another, communication channels disappeared.
The communications officer’s calm expression finally broke.
"...We’ve lost contact with command."
Another technician immediately checked the backup frequencies.
"No response."
The emergency channel.
Nothing.
Satellite relay.
Nothing.
Long-range transmission.
Nothing.
The pilot slowly tightened his grip on the controls.
Inside the silent aircraft, no one spoke.
Outside, the strangely quiet city stretched endlessly beneath them.
Then...
Without warning...
Every connection to the Corrode Family command center was cut.
Inside the lead aircraft, the atmosphere changed almost instantly.
Only moments ago, the command cabin had remained orderly, with experienced operators calmly monitoring every instrument despite the mysterious silence surrounding the city below. Now, the entire cabin erupted into controlled chaos as warning lights illuminated one console after another.
Communication officers repeatedly adjusted frequencies, pilots checked navigation systems, while technicians hurriedly verified that none of their equipment had malfunctioned. Every person present understood the seriousness of losing contact with headquarters.
The Corrode Family’s communication network had been designed with multiple redundant systems capable of functioning even if satellites failed or military infrastructure collapsed. For every one of those systems to fail simultaneously was something none of them had ever considered possible.
The communications officer wiped the cold sweat forming on his forehead before speaking with unusual urgency.
"I’ve already attempted every secured military frequency, every emergency relay channel, every satellite uplink, and even our family’s independent communication array. None of them are responding. It isn’t simple interference. It’s as though every transmission entering this city’s airspace simply disappears."
The senior commander slowly narrowed his eyes.
"Check whether headquarters can still receive us through one-way transmission."
Another operator immediately complied, transmitting several coded messages reserved for emergencies.
Five seconds passed.
Ten.
Thirty.
Nothing returned.
The operator slowly lowered his headset.
"There isn’t even a confirmation signal."
The room became deathly silent.
One elderly strategist folded his arms while staring at the city beneath them.
"This city isn’t merely strange."
He spoke slowly, carefully considering every possibility.
"...It is isolating itself."
The commander nodded grimly.
"If communication cannot pass through..."
He looked toward the pilots.
"...then we need eyes."
Without another word, he activated an internal channel.
"Deploy reconnaissance helicopters."
The order spread through the formation immediately.
Behind the lead aircraft, several transport carriers slowly opened their reinforced bays.
One after another, heavily armed reconnaissance helicopters descended into the open air before their engines roared to life. Each helicopter carried advanced sensors, thermal imaging equipment, parasite detectors, and experienced personnel capable of adapting to unexpected situations.
They spread into a disciplined formation before gradually approaching the silent city from different directions.
Inside the command aircraft, every monitor switched toward the helicopters’ live feeds.
At first...
Everything appeared normal.
The helicopters steadily descended.
Their cameras transmitted clear images of empty highways, abandoned intersections, silent residential districts, and lifeless commercial buildings.
No undead.
No mutated beasts.
No visible movement.
One pilot quietly reported.
"Altitude five hundred meters."
Another answered.
"No hostile contacts."
A third added.
"Continuing descent."
The commander watched every monitor without blinking.
Then—
One of the helicopter feeds suddenly shook violently.
Not because something struck it.
Not because of turbulence.
The camera simply trembled.
The pilot frowned.
"Control... I’m detecting..."
His sentence never finished.
Boom.
The monitor instantly became nothing but static.
Several operators jumped.
"What happened?"
Before anyone could answer—
Boom.
A second helicopter disappeared.
The explosion appeared only for an instant before the feed vanished completely.
Every person inside the command aircraft froze.
"No..."
Another operator stared wide-eyed.
"The third..."
Boom.
Another explosion.
Then the fourth.
Boom.
The fifth.
Boom.
One after another.
Every reconnaissance helicopter exploded in midair.
No warning.
No visible projectile.
No energy beam.
No anti-aircraft missile.
No sound reached the command aircraft except the abrupt loss of transmission followed by the violent bloom of fire on distant monitors.
The explosions seemed to occur spontaneously.
As though the helicopters had flown into an invisible execution ground.
The command cabin descended into stunned silence.
One young officer whispered unconsciously.
"...What just killed them?"
Nobody answered.
Because nobody knew.
The surveillance recordings were immediately replayed frame by frame.
Technicians enlarged every explosion.
Thermal sensors.
Electromagnetic sensors.
Particle analysis.
Pressure readings.
Everything remained normal until the exact instant each helicopter ceased to exist.
One researcher slowly removed his glasses.
"I can’t identify an attack."
Another shook his head.
"There isn’t even an energy signature."
The commander stared toward the quiet city below.
His expression gradually became more solemn.
"This place..."
He paused.
"...is far more dangerous than we anticipated."
...
Deep beneath the Corrode Family estate, the livestream monitors suddenly went black one after another.
The massive command hall remained silent as every screen displayed nothing except static.
One technician repeatedly struck his keyboard while desperately attempting to restore the connection.
Another hurriedly reported.
"We’ve lost every helicopter."
An officer looked up.
"Enemy attack?"
The technician swallowed.
"We don’t know."
"Were they shot down?"
"No evidence."
"Missiles?"
"None detected."
"Energy weapons?"
"Negative."
The room gradually became heavier.
The old patriarch quietly watched the blank monitors.
Even his calm expression had become slightly colder.
After several long moments, he slowly spoke.
"If technology cannot enter..."
His gaze swept across the assembled commanders.
"...then we shall use something else."
Several family members immediately understood.
The commander nodded.
"Deploy the King-Class Beasts."
No one questioned the order.
Hidden gates deep beneath the underground fortress slowly began opening, while massive roars echoed through reinforced chambers.
One after another...
The Corrode Family prepared to release several King-Class Beasts toward the silent city.