Michael Joke and Ivan were gobsmacked too.

  They'd never laid eyes on so many crystal cores.

  No wonder those yahoos were willing to storm the Carrion Crows' lair, danger be damned.

  With that many crystal cores just sitting there, like a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, it'd be a miracle if anyone could resist the green-eyed monster.

  Looking at the nest chock-full of crystal cores, Billy Jean's eyes lit up like a kid in a candy store.

  Last time, she'd only chomped on one crystal core and sprouted bone spurs like a porcupine.

  If she wolfed down all these, she might turn into a bona fide monster, like Godzilla on steroids.

  “Roar... Are these all for me?"

  Billy Jean asked, her eyes twinkling with anticipation.

  “Caw caw... You three can divvy these up. Thanks for saving us."

  If it weren't for them, the Carrion Crows would've been wiped out, and those crystal cores would've been snatched up by that gang of thieves.

  Billy Jean cheerfully told Michael Joke and Ivan,

  “The Carrion Crows said these crystal cores are all for me.”

  Michael Joke and Ivan:!!

  Was she pulling a fast one, taking advantage of the language gap?

  They couldn't understand the bird talk, but they could read between the lines.

  Were the Carrion Crows really saying she should hog them all?

  “Are you sure the Carrion Crows said only for you?”

  The two of them gave Billy Jean the side-eye.

  “You don't trust me? Do I look like a fibber?”

  Michael Joke and Ivan, for once, were like two peas in a pod and nodded in unison.

  Billy Jean:...

  She puffed out her cheeks like a chipmunk and said,

  “Since you don't believe me, I'll let it tell you straight. So you won't think I'm yanking your chain.”

  Billy Jean looked at Bosraven and said,

  “Roar... They want me to thank you for your kindness."

  Bosraven said to Michael Joke and the others,

  “Caw caw...You're welcome."

  Naturally, Michael Joke and Ivan were in the dark about what the Carrion Crows were squawking.

  They just heard “Caw caw” and looked as confused as a bunch of lost puppies.

  Seeing their befuddled expressions, Billy Jean had to bite her lip to keep from laughing.

  She managed to keep a straight face and said,

  “Well... cough, I told you I wouldn't lie.”

  Michael Joke and Ivan:...

  It seemed they were doomed to be stymied by this darn language barrier.

  Billy Jean's eyes shone like diamonds as she eyed the nest brimming with crystal cores.

  Now they were all hers.

  She reached out and grabbed a handful, ready to stuff them down her gullet.

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  But Michael Joke slapped her hand away.

  “Eat the crystal cores like that? You're asking for trouble.”

  “What's wrong?”

  Billy Jean asked, her brow furrowing.

  “With this many crystal cores and all that pent-up energy, it'd be like swallowing a grenade.

  Your body'd blow up like a balloon and pop.”

  Billy Jean's hand trembled, and the crystal cores tumbled back into the nest.

  “Damn it!! Why didn't you say so earlier?”

  “Who knew you were so clueless.”

  “Since I turned zombie, my brain's been a bit foggy.”

  Billy Jean owned up, no shame in her game.

  Seeing Billy Jean admit her dumb move so freely for the first time, Michael Joke did a double-take.

  “One handful's a no-go. But one ought to be okay, right?”

  Billy Jean nonchalantly plucked one and popped it in her mouth.

  She chewed it like it was popcorn at the movies.

  The rich energy exploded in her mouth and then coursed through her body like a tidal wave, washing away her fatigue and aches and pains.

  She was glowing like a light bulb.

  “Ah, that's the stuff.”

  Billy Jean let out a long, contented sigh.

  Billy Jean stuffed the remaining crystal cores into her pockets until they were bulging.

  Now she could grab one whenever she needed a pick-me-up.

  “Roar... Sis, I might split from Ri-city for a while. Take care. If I can still hoof it back to Ri-city, I'll surely come see you."

  Billy Jean bid adieu to Zompige.

  “Coo… Sister Jean, where are you going? Isn't it peachy here? Please don't go."

  Zompige was sad to see her go.

  After all, Billy Jean was its first zombie pal.

  “Roar... I've got some stuff to sort out. If I can still make it back alive, I'll definitely swing by."

  “Coo… Sister Jean, I'll miss you."

  Zompige wiped its eyes with its wing, like a weepy child.

  “Roar... Be good to your man. I'm outta here."

  Billy Jean patted Zompige's head and turned to leave.

  At first, she hadn't given this feathered friend much thought.

  Who'd have guessed that after hanging out these past few days, she'd actually grown attached?

  “Coo… Wait up."

  Zompige caught up with Billy Jean, a bag dangling from its beak.

  Billy Jean took the bag and peeked inside.

  Her eyes nearly bugged out of her head.

  Good grief!

  Were they running a crystal core factory?

  “Roar... I can't take this. It's too much."

  Billy Jean said she couldn't accept it, but her fingers were clamped tight around the bag.

  Michael Joke and Ivan:...

  “Coo… Sis Jean, watch your back out there. If you hit a snag, come on back. We'll have your back."

  Zompige said, its voice tinged with sadness.

  Billy Jean was a bit choked up.

  She rubbed her eyes.

  Well... no tears.

  She'd forgotten zombies don't cry.

  “Roar... Goodbye. I'll miss you."

  Billy Jean waved farewell to Zompige and the Carrion Crows and then tagged along with Michael Joke and the others out of the forest.

  A military vehicle roared onto the road and peeled out.

  Inside the vehicle.

  Michael Joke was behind the wheel.

  Billy Jean was riding shotgun, happily counting her loot.

  Ivan was in the back seat, quiet as a mouse.

  The whole car was filled with the sound of Billy Jean's gleeful counting.

  “Oh my god! There are fifteen of them. What a haul!”

  Billy Jean was bouncing in her seat like a kid on Christmas morning.

  “But where the heck did they get so many crystal cores?”

  “You forgot. The Carrion Crows are like the Grim Reapers of the apocalypse. They swoop down on humans and livestock, leaving nothing but bones. And they gang up like a bunch of pirates. It's no wonder some unlucky, weak ability users end up six feet under.”

  Michael Joke said.

  Billy Jean beamed.

  “This friend is worth its weight in gold.”

  The military vehicle was cruising down the deserted street.

  The stores on either side were like ghost towns.

  The glass doors and windows were shattered, shards littering the ground, and cobwebs hung like curtains everywhere.

  The good stuff had been picked clean, and the junk was strewn all over the place.

  Scattered zombies were shuffling around aimlessly, like sleepwalkers.

  Seeing a vehicle zip by, they'd lunge at it, but it was already gone in a flash.

  So they just stood there, staring into space.

  Looking at the dopey zombies in the rear-view mirror, Billy Jean cracked a smile.

  She thought about how not long ago, she was just like them, as stiff as a board and about as coordinated as a drunk on roller skates.

  She wouldn't even flinch if she walked into a lamppost.

  You know, life was actually kind of laid-back back then.

  She sort of missed it.

  “Boom...”

  Suddenly, the tire blew out with a bang, and white smoke billowed.

  The car started fishtailing, and the screeching of brakes cut through the air.

  It plowed into a couple of wrecked cars before grinding to a halt.

  “What's wrong?” Billy Jean asked.

  Michael Joke's brow wrinkled.

  “We've got a flat.”

  “Don't we have a spare?”

  “Yes, but look outside.”

  Billy Jean peeked out.

  Because of the racket just now, every zombie on the block had come running.

  The zombies were swarming over, snarling and snapping, mouths gaping wide, howling like banshees.

  “Screech...”

  Their fingernails scraped against the car window like chalk on a blackboard, sending shivers down your spine.

  A hulking zombie even hopped onto the roof and started stomping around.

  “Boom... Boom...”

  The car rocked with each jump.

  When the whole street was turning into a zombie mosh pit around the military vehicle, two women climbed out of a car behind.

  They were decked out in skin-tight leather, showing off their curves like they were on a catwalk.

  They had knee-high leather boots on, making their legs look like they went on for miles.

  Just from their getup, you could tell these two ladies were no pushovers.

  They had to have some tricks up their sleeves.

  One of the women with a high ponytail was twirling a Desert Eagle like a gunslinger.

  With a smirk on her face, she said,

  “Just in time. Some suckers walked right into our trap. Their bad luck.”