TWD:Zombie System

Eventually, I allowed myself to relax. For the first time that day, I felt like things were under control. The initial steps had been taken—arrangements made, plans set in motion. All that remained now… was to wait.

I lay back on the bed, letting the weight of the day fade, and drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep.

I woke up to the sound of the suite door opening.

It was exactly 2:00 PM.

Troy stepped inside, calm as always, holding a black folder tucked under one arm and a tablet in the other. He closed the door behind him and gave a respectful nod.

"Sir."

I rubbed my eyes, sitting up from the bed. "Hey, Troy. How is it?"

He walked over and handed me the tablet. "The new men will be arriving tomorrow morning. All eighty of them, just as you requested. Vetted, trained, and background-checked. All fit the profile—no families, no ties. Most are former special forces, private contractors, and retired law enforcement."

I nodded in approval. "Good. Where are they being sent?"

"That's what I came to ask," he said. "Where should we position them?"

"Send them to the Quan Resort," I replied without hesitation. "That's where we'll be moving this afternoon anyway."

He tapped a few keys on the screen to finalize the order, then looked back at me.

"And your other request—the gear and firearms. It's done. Here's the breakdown."

He handed me the folder and continued his report aloud:

Firearms:

100 M4 Carbines with red dot sights and folding stocks

60 Glock 17 pistols with tactical flashlights

30 Remington 870 shotguns for close quarters

15 Barrett M82 sniper rifles for long-range coverage

10 FN SCAR-H battle rifles for the squad leaders

Ammunition:

150,000 rounds of 5.56mm

50,000 rounds of 9mm

25,000 12-gauge shells

8,000 rounds of .50 BMG

12,000 rounds of 7.62mm

Tactical Gear:

80 full-body ballistic vests with Kevlar inserts

100 military-grade tactical helmets

150 sets of tactical gloves, knee pads, and elbow guards

80 handheld radios with encrypted channels

50 NVGs (night vision goggles)

30 thermal scopes for snipers

Miscellaneous:

20 bulletproof riot shields

10 drone kits for scouting and surveillance

200 rechargeable battery packs

40 medical trauma kits

15 portable generators

100 military-grade backpacks with hydration systems

"All orders are set for delivery directly to the Quan Resort," Troy finished. "They'll arrive in staggered shipments starting tonight. No trails, no red flags. It's all been routed through black market intermediaries and ghost suppliers."

I smiled faintly. "You've outdone yourself."

He nodded. "It's my job."

Now that the manpower and the arsenal were secured, the next phase of our operation could begin.

Just as I turned away from the window, my phone started ringing.

I glanced at the screen—Alex Caruso, my lawyer.

I picked up. "Alex."

"Marcus," he said, his voice steady but slightly tense. "I've completed the liquidation process."

"That fast?" I raised an eyebrow.

"I did what I could with the time you gave me," he replied. "Honestly, if you'd given me even just a few more days, I could've pushed some of the properties into higher-value negotiations. But regardless… everything except the Quan Resort has been sold off."

"And the total?" I asked.

"After closing costs and taxes, you're sitting on roughly three hundred million dollars in clean liquid assets," Alex confirmed. "It's been moved into your offshore and emergency-use accounts, just like you asked. All traceable ties have been severed."

I nodded, impressed. "You did good."

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Marcus… I've worked with you a long time, but I need to ask—what's really going on?"

I hesitated for a moment, then replied quietly, "You've seen the news, haven't you?"

"Of course I have," he said, almost dismissively. "But outbreaks, riots… these things pass. The government—"

"No," I cut him off. "This isn't something that passes, Alex. It's going to get worse. Much worse. What we're seeing now is just the beginning."

"You really believe that?" His tone shifted—part disbelieving, part concerned.

"I don't just believe it," I said. "I know it."

There was silence again. Then he let out a slow breath. "You're serious."

"Dead serious."

He sighed. "So… what happens now?"

"If things go south—if you see society cracking, people panicking, or things you can't explain—come to me," I told him. "Come to The Quan Resort. It's secure, isolated, and we're preparing for long-term survival. If you run into trouble, call me and I'll send someone to get you."

He didn't answer right away, but when he did, his voice was softer.

"…Alright. I'll keep that in mind."

"I hope it won't come to that," I said honestly. "But if it does, don't hesitate."

"I won't."

The line went quiet, and then the call ended.

I lowered the phone and exhaled slowly.

Whew…" I muttered under my breath, slipping the phone into my pocket.

Troy, who had remained beside me silently the entire time, turned slightly, arms crossed. "Three hundred million dollars," he said, letting out a low whistle. "That's a war chest. You could build your own country with that."

I gave him a half-smirk. "Not a country. A fortress."

Before he could respond, we heard the elevator chime. A moment later, Max stepped through the suite doors, moving with his usual calm but efficient stride.

"Sir," he greeted with a respectful nod.

"How did it go?" I asked, turning toward him.

"It's done," Max said with quiet confidence. "I've secured everything on your list."

He pulled out a small tablet and began reading off the report.

"We now have large quantities of long-term food supplies—freeze-dried, canned, and vacuum-sealed. I also secured clean drinking water in bulk containers, portable water purifiers, and over thirty fuel drums, all safely stored. Solar panels and backup generators have been ordered and are scheduled for transport within the next 48 hours."

I nodded. "What about the radios?"

"Eighty sets of military-grade two-way radios with encrypted channels. And an additional twenty handheld backup units. Also added were full-face gas masks, over a hundred units, with replaceable filters. I've also arranged for reinforced mobile trailers—converted into small, livable housing units."

"Good," I said. "We'll need those for the resort perimeter."

But I wasn't finished.

"One more thing, Max," I added. "Start looking into land vehicles if Troy hasn't covered all the models. Trucks, SUVs, ATVs—anything durable, fast, and off-road capable. Prioritize diesel engines and easy-to-maintain models."

Max gave a small nod, already typing it into his notes.

"Also," I continued, "I want a dozen helicopters. Small and medium-range. Civilian-use choppers, tourist models, medevac capable—anything currently for sale or in storage, even from collectors."

"And boats," I added. "Secure some yachts. Fishing vessels. Even speedboats. Anything we can dock at the Quan Resort. If the sea becomes our escape route, I want options."

Max looked up. "Any limit on the budget for those, sir?"

"No," I said flatly. "None at all. If it floats or flies and can be useful, I want it."

"As you wish," he replied smoothly. "I'll get started immediately."

With that, Max turned and left, already making calls as the door quietly shut behind him.

Troy let out a low chuckle and shook his head. "You really aren't playing around."

I glanced at him.

"No, Troy," I said quietly, looking out at the city one last time. "Because when the world collapses, you either scramble to survive…

…or you lead."

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