BXBX NOVEL Chapter 415 That Was Easy
"Aren't you going to go help your men?" asked Violence as she held out the bowl of buttered popcorn to me. I had yet to see her stop snacking since she came to this realm to 'hang out'—her words, not mine.
"I am helping my men," I replied with a slight smile on my face. I was helping my men in two ways. The first was by letting them stretch their muscles and world out how to kill the zombies, and the second one was that I had frozen 1,500 zombies so they could take their time.
"Are they fighting you?" questioned Violence, cocking her head to the side and looking at me. "Because you can just kill them all if they are fighting you."
"I literally have them frozen," I scoffed. I wanted to still be able to use the majority of the zombies for the next stage in my zombie apocalypse, but I also wouldn't hesitate to reap all of their souls if it meant keeping my men safe. I was trying to figure out a way to keep them from the conflict and freeze them in place.
I went with the most straight forward approach, and, lo and behold, it turned out that encasing their flames in ice made it so that their physical bodies weren't able to do anything.
Who would have thunk it?
"That's it, that's how you are going to help your men?" demanded Violence as another group of 25 flames blinked out of existence.
"Weren't you one of the ones that bitched I was taking it too easy on them? Now you are saying that I am being too mean? Could you please make up your mind? You are giving me whiplash," I grumbled, never taking my eyes away from the fight. All it would take was for me to blink a second too long for shit to hit the fan.
However, I was definitely feeling encouraged by how many zombies the boys could take out at one time. It definitely showed how strong they were getting.
"I have a random question for you," I said, briefly turning to look at Violence before turning back to my men.
"Shoot," she replied with a shrug as she tossed a few pieces of popcorn into her mouth.
"How are the guys supposed to bring about the end of the world?" I asked, curious. I mean, I understood in a very general sense that War created war, which left countless people dead. And then disease and famine came and took out another significant number of people, but that still didn't really explain why everyone thought they would bring Hell on Earth. It sounded like any other Friday night in the Middle Ages.
Violence paused for a moment and looked at me seriously. "You know, I have absolutely no idea," she answered slowly, cocking her head to the side as she thought about my question. "Humans have been going to war against other humans since the dawn of time. It was one of the main reasons why cities were created in the first place because there was strength in numbers."
"Right!?" I said, throwing up my hands. Turning my attention back to the fight, I was pleased to see that my men were still winning and didn't need my help at the moment. "So then, what are they actually supposed to do?"
"Let me go look that up and get back to you," said Violence, quickly blinking back to her own realm. I looked at the empty place where Violence once stood, rolling my eyes. It didn't matter what the research said. It didn't matter what was prophesied or what humans thought would or should happen.
What mattered was what me and my men wanted to do. If they wanted to go out and razz the world to the ground, I would be there standing beside them. If they wanted to help humanity, then I would support them in that too… well, after I culled the ones too stupid to continue living.
No, I would bring about the zombie apocalypse, destroy humanity and civilization as the humans knew it, and once I was satisfied that the humans had learned their lesson, I might help them rebuild.
But make no mistake, the world needed a reset, and I was just the one to press the button.
Button.
Crap!!
I forgot to label the doomsday device before putting it in my space. I quickly blinked into my kitchen and started to frantically look through every last one of my everything-else drawers. Finding five identical remotes, I placed them all side by side on the counter and looked at them.
"Fuck me," I groaned, realizing that I literally had five different remotes that all looked the exact same, and I didn't have a clue what any of them were for. Could the doomsday device have had babies in my drawer? Was that the reason why I had so many? Because I had no clue why I would have so many black boxes with red buttons on them.
Since I couldn't remember exactly what the device looked like, I thought it would be best if I just put them all in their own separate glass jars with big, bold writing warning me from pressing the button.
If the device was somehow procreating, hopefully, the jars would stop that from happening. Or at least cut down on the number of offspring produced. And, if I actually had four other red button remotes, then hopefully, I wouldn't need them any time soon.
Gently picking up the first device, I placed it in its jar and screwed on the lid. Taking a permanent marker, I wrote on the top, 'Possible doomsday device, do not press', and put the jar on top of my kitchen counters.
I would never look up there in a million years, and not just because I have to climb up on the counters to get that high.
I completed the process with another two devices before looking at the fourth one. Picking it up in my hand, I noticed that there were some words written on the red button. "That was easy?" I read out loud. Was that my 'that was easy' button, or did someone have a sick sense of humor and decided to out 'that was easy' on the lone button that could end the world?