Weapon System in Zombie Apocalypse

December 24th, 2024.

[User: Thomas Estaris]

[Level: 48]

[Experience Points: 88,531,163/97,114,886]

[Skills: Combat Proficiency Level 4, Weapon's Proficiency Level 4, Charisma Level 4, Leadership Level 4. Driving Level 4. Aviation Level 4.]

[Souls: 1M+]

[Blood Coins: 154,541,155]

[Summoned Forces:

Infantry: 3125

Vehicles: (Military Hardware such as Tanks, Transport, IFV…) 350

Aircraft: 80

Navy: 0

]

Thomas looked at his system and stared at the numbers. It had grown to a significant point since he had gotten it mysteriously from the rooftop of his university.

He didn't expect his life would turn out to such a degree where he would be able to fight off against zombies that are evolving by the day.

He was standing on the rooftop of the South Carpak Building where he could see a portion of the complex with a great view. And to think that there would be a day that comes where the MOA Complex is zombie-free and is like a different world compared to the outsides of the gates.

Truly—it was magnificent.

Since the day he reclaimed this territory, he had made it safe for everyone, and kept it for the last eight months and seeing civilians and soldiers mingling with one another in a normal sense brought him satisfaction.

He turned around and walked to the other ends of the building where it gave him the view of the gates of the MOA Complex. What does it look like? Well to give you an idea, there is a wall along the highway as high as those depicted in the World War Z apocalypse movie in Israel.

There are guards patrolling the gates from above it, shooting down zombies that dared come. And it was also quiet, suggesting that the zombies near the area had dwindled down due to the repeated operations that cleaned them up.

After all, Thomas wanted not to reclaim the MOA Complex, but beyond, and much possible the whole country.

But it's going to be difficult. Not factoring the mutated zombies, there are over a hundred million zombies in the Philippines, two-thirds of which are in Luzon. He'll have to kill all of them to make the island zombie-free.

This is going to be exhilarating.

As he was looking at the gates, Phillip approached him.

"Sir, I have a report from Doctor Delgado," Phillip informed.

Thomas didn't look at him, instead he kept looking at the gates.

"What did he find?"

"Well, he said that he'll only report it to you personally," Phillip answered.

"I see…I'll come down to the lab," Thomas said with a sigh and continued. "How's the atmosphere around?"

"Not much…people are preparing for Christmas eve."

Thomas gave a slight nod, eyes still trained on the horizon.

"It's good that they're still celebrating," he said. "Means they haven't forgotten how to be human."

Phillip stepped beside him, arms crossed, glancing toward the distant crowd gathering near the main atrium below.

"I've been meaning to ask you, sir… what's the purpose of all this?" he said. "The credit system. The concerts. The barbershops and dumpling stalls. It's like… you're trying to recreate the old world."

Thomas turned to him now, expression calm but firm.

"Because that's exactly what I'm doing," he replied. "You want to know what happens when people stop believing they can live a normal life?"

Phillip stayed quiet.

"They turn into animals," Thomas continued. "I've seen it happen. Panic. Looting. Infighting. The worst of humanity comes out the moment they think everything is gone forever. That's what killed more people in the first few weeks than the infected did—people turning on each other."

Phillip looked down at the complex below. Soldiers walking in pairs. Civilians manning stalls. Performers warming up in the distance. All of it happening in sync.

"So the credit system?" Phillip asked.

"It's structure," Thomas answered. "Currency gives value to labor. Even if it's just printed paper or digital numbers—it gives people a reason to work. A reason to behave. A goal."

"I thought you hated bureaucracy," Phillip muttered.

"I do. But order isn't bureaucracy," Thomas clarified. "This isn't about politicians pushing paper. It's about giving people something to wake up for. A sense of fairness. If someone works, they earn. If someone doesn't, they don't. It's simple. But it's what stops the camp from turning into a dictatorship or anarchy."

Phillip leaned on the edge of the railing, processing it.

"And the social events? The concerts, the shows?"

"That's even more important," Thomas said, gesturing to the area below. "People need to feel like they belong to something. That they're not just surviving, but living. Without that, you end up with angry, restless, depressed civilians. And depressed people are dangerous. They stop caring. They don't report problems. They lash out. Some even sabotage. Suicides go up. Productivity drops. Trust disappears."

He paused.

"You ever wonder why during wars, soldiers still celebrated Christmas? Still sang songs, passed around whatever food or drink they had? Because that's what kept them human."

Phillip was quiet for a moment, then finally nodded.

"I get it now," he said. "It's not just about rebuilding infrastructure. You're rebuilding people."

"That's the only way we'll survive this," Thomas replied. "The guns and drones? They buy us time. But if we lose our culture, our sense of society—then it won't matter how many weapons we have. We'll become no different than the infected."

The two of them stood there for a few more seconds, letting the breeze sweep over the rooftop.

"Alright," Thomas said finally. "Let's see what Doctor Delgado has to say. If he's being this secretive, it's either really bad… or really interesting."

Phillip nodded, falling in step beside him as they made their way to the elevator shaft.

The elevator doors opened with a soft chime, and the two stepped in.

As it descended, Thomas glanced at the digital floor indicator, his mind already shifting toward whatever awaited them below.

"Whatever it is," Phillip said, breaking the silence, "you think it'll change anything?"

Thomas looked straight ahead.

"Everything changes something, Phillip. The question is—are we ready for it?"

The elevator came to a halt.

Ding.

The doors slid open to the corridor of the research wing.

Thomas stepped out first, eyes sharp.

"Let's find out."