With a casual flick of his wrist, Ethan tossed out a few slabs of raw steak, still streaked with blood.
The zombie from earlier froze, his expression shifting to one of stunned disbelief.
"Wait… is that really steak?"
They were all starving, their bloodlust barely contained. A few zombies immediately lunged forward, tearing into the meat and devouring it in seconds.
But of course, that tiny bit of flesh wasn't nearly enough to satisfy them.
The same zombie turned to Ethan with a sycophantic grin. "Boss, from now on, I'm all yours. Whatever you say goes."
"What's your name?" Ethan asked.
The zombie blinked, scratching his head awkwardly. "I… I don't have one."
"Oh." Ethan gave him a quick once-over, then said offhandedly, "Alright, from now on, you're Slick."
"Yes! Yes! Slick! That's a great name! Boss, you're a genius—so cultured, so creative! Just one word from you and bam! Instant class! That name's got style, it's got flair—"
