It had been two days since our arrival. The soldiers were divided into teams—five men each. Every day, they swept through the ruined streets, clearing the walkers that stumbled too close and checking the wreckage of buildings and abandoned homes for survivors.
So far, nothing. Not a single soul.
I stood quietly, staring up at the gray sky, my mind heavy with unease. Where could the people be?
"Sir."
I turned as Troy approached, his face hard but carrying the same weight of disappointment I felt. "Everyone's back. None of the teams found any survivors."
"That's strange," Jessy muttered from my side, his brows furrowed. "Considering the population of this city, there should be someone left. We must have missed something."
I narrowed my eyes, deep in thought. Jessy had a point. A city this big shouldn't feel this empty. Something wasn't adding up.
"Hmm," I finally said, my voice low. Jessy seemed to catch my unease but stayed silent, waiting.
"Alright then. Tell the patrols to double their sweep. Every alley, every corner. No exceptions."
"Yes, Marcus." Troy nodded firmly before moving to relay the order.
But even as I watched him leave, a chill lingered in my chest. The silence of the city wasn't natural. Survivors didn't just vanish into thin air.
Something—or someone—was making them disappear.
So far, I've cut down plenty of walkers myself. Their groans are almost background noise to me now. Tomorrow, though, I'll be leaving camp for something more important—training my controlled walkers.
150/300.
My capacity has doubled. Slowly but surely, I'm building a real army. Tomorrow, I'll test their limits further. I'll bring one of them with me, along with some guns, just to see if it can actually hold a weapon… and maybe even fire it. Weheheheheh.
The soldiers under me have also changed these past few days. They've been baptized by blood, forced to fight again and again. Fear of walkers? Gone. Now, they have experience. Some of them are true soldiers, trained and disciplined, while others are volunteers who had no choice but to adapt. I made sure to pair them wisely—mixing hardened fighters with the inexperienced—to reduce casualties.
Still, yesterday cost us dearly. Twenty-three men gone.
Narrow buildings. Tight hallways. Walkers lurking in the dark, waiting. They overwhelmed the squads, ripping through flesh before comrades could react. Some of the fallen turned right there on the spot, reanimating in front of their brothers-in-arms, forcing them to put their own men down. The sight was brutal… but it hardened the rest.
I can feel it. Soon, I'll have a powerful army—soldiers and controlled walkers. But power draws attention, and I need to be careful. Other forces are out there.
Especially the CRM.
To be honest, I still don't know much about the CRM—not yet, at least. The only thing I'm sure of is that they were born out of the government itself. Operation Cobalt… yeah, I remember. When the government gave the kill order, there were those who opposed it. The rebels. What's left of them now call themselves the CRM—Civic Republic Military.
Rebels turned rulers.
But I don't like them. Not one damn bit.
I remember the stories—hell, more like warnings. They slaughtered two shelters that had once been their allies. One shelter had more than 200,000 people. The other? Over 10,000. Entire communities wiped off the map. Not because of walkers. Not because of famine. But because of them.
The CRM.
And it wasn't just guns and fire. No… they used something worse. A biological weapon. They released it into the air, into the water—silent, invisible. Within hours, people were choking, bleeding, dying. By the time anyone realized what had happened, it was already too late. And when it was over, the CRM came in and cleaned up whatever scraps were left.
They treated those people like test subjects. Guinea pigs for their experiments. And when the experiment was finished, all that remained were bodies and ashes.
That's why I need to be careful.
Morning came and I was already at the edge of camp, leaning against one of the Humvees I'd set up for the operation. This truck would be my base for the walker trials — quick runs, load tests, and then whatever experiments I had planned. I figured two days, maybe three at most, to test the theory and get usable results.
Jessy stood beside me — a solid, no-nonsense man who'd take point while I was gone — and Troy was there too, shoulders squared, ready to hold the fort. "Keep things tight while I'm out," I told them.
"Will do, Marcus," Troy answered.
"Be careful," Jessy added, clapping a hand on my shoulder. "We've got everything covered."
"I will," I said, slinging my pack over my shoulder. Jessy is a man — dependable, blunt, the kind of friend you want watching your back. With them in charge, I could take these two days and push the experiment as far as it would go.
Then I got inside the truck and headed in my own direction. In a few minutes, I arrived at my destination on the north highway. There were some walkers that had been lured here earlier when we passed by yesterday. I brought with me my sword and a few guns — just ten pistols with a few rounds of ammo that I would be experimenting. I then used the system to control a nearby walker while killing the rest that had been attracted here. The herd of walkers I have is hiding, guided by my controlled walkers not far from here.
I looked at the controlled walker. Huh… judging by the amount of muscle, this guy must have been a bodybuilder once, but now it was just rotten flesh and sinew. I threw a loaded gun in front of it. "Pick up the weapon and fire it," I said out loud.
Nothing. No movement.
I sighed. I'd already confirmed it could only follow commands through the system. I focused and said, System, order this one to pick up the gun and fire.
The system replied, Command accepted.
Immediately, the walker bent down, grabbed the gun from the ground, and fired it into the distance.
I raised an eyebrow. Hmm… if it can fire, can it reload? I wondered in my mind.
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