Chapter 5: Strike team Assemble

I address the assembled survivors in the waiting area, my voice clear and firm.

"Alright, listen up. Everyone here will be assessed.

I need to know what you can do, what skills you have, and what kind of shape you're in." I gesture around the room.

"This isn't a free ride. We all have to contribute if we want to survive.

Those of you who can fight will be trained and integrated into our defense force.

Those who can't..."

I pause, letting the unspoken implication hang in the air.

"...will be assigned to other essential tasks.

Kitchen duty, cleaning, maintaining the living quarters, preparing accommodations for future arrivals of survivors – all of it is vital to the smooth running of this fortress."

I scan their faces, checking their reactions, looking for any sign of resistance.

"We'll start with physical aptitude tests, then move on to skills assessments. Let's get to it." I'm not asking. I'm telling.

"There is no such thing as free lodging here, we should contribute in any way we can for our fortress. Any objection, you're free to leave my fortress."

I focus my mind, extending my senses, using the ability I've honed over countless trials: mind reading.

I scan each of the ten survivors I've brought back, probing through their thoughts, their intentions, their underlying motivations.

It is a necessary precaution. Trust is a dangerous commodity these days, and I can't afford any surprises.

To my relief, I find no hidden agendas, no simmering resentment, no treacherous plots. They are scared, yes, and uncertain, but they are also cooperative, grateful even.

It seems my instincts have been right about them. All ten are genuinely willing to contribute and follow my lead.

A wave of relief washes over me. For once, things are going smoothly. Ten new, potentially valuable members for my fortress. It is a good start.

After settling in the new members, I take stock of our growing group.

It is crucial to understand everyone's strengths and weaknesses if we are to survive and thrive.

I assess each individual, noting their skills and abilities. Several, including Han So Chul and his friends, show a natural aptitude for combat.

These individuals are given weapons and begin regular firearms practice on our base firing range.

We also incorporate daily sparring sessions to hone our fighting skills and build teamwork. It is essential to be prepared for any eventuality.

Those who aren't suited for combat are assigned other vital tasks.

Some take on cooking duties, ensuring we have regular meals. Others are responsible for cleaning and maintaining the living quarters, keeping our environment sanitary and organized.

We also work on preparing additional accommodations, anticipating the need for more space as our group grows.

Everyone has a role to play, contributing to the overall survival and functionality of our growing community.

We are building not just a fortress, but a self-sufficient unit, each member vital to the whole.

I would like to form a strike team, this team will be my special force, specializing in rescue missions and assault missions.

As our group settles into a routine of training and preparation, the need for a more specialized team becomes clear.

We need a strike force, a dedicated unit capable of handling high-risk missions, particularly rescue operations and targeted assaults.

This team will be my special forces, operating under my direct command.

I gather the individuals who have shown the most promise in combat training, including Han So Chul and his friends.

"I'm forming a strike team," I announce.

"You've all demonstrated the skills and the mindset necessary for this kind of work. You'll be my special forces, specializing in rescue missions and assault operations."

I outline the responsibilities of the team – infiltrating hostile locations, rescuing hostages, eliminating threats, and gathering intelligence. It is dangerous work, but it is necessary.

These missions will be crucial for our survival and for the survival of others.

I emphasize the importance of teamwork, discipline, and absolute obedience to my commands.

This team will be an extension of my will.

Our training continues relentlessly.

Three weeks pass, and the world outside our walls descends further into chaos.

The reports coming in are grim – the infected hordes are growing, and the Evolved and Hybrids are becoming more prevalent, posing an even greater threat.

We can't afford to be complacent. We have to be ready.

I equip my special forces team with advanced drones, allowing them to survey the surrounding areas and gather crucial intel before embarking on any mission.

The armor kits I have received as rewards from the system prove invaluable, providing added protection for the team.

They train rigorously, honing their skills, becoming a well-oiled machine. Sturdy, sharp, and quick-witted, they are a force to be reckoned with.

Even the non-combatants receive basic self-defense training.

It isn't as intense as the strike team's regimen, but it is essential.

Everyone needs to be able to protect themselves if the base is ever attacked. Survival is a collective effort.

Amidst the training, I notice Yi Tong, the 10-year-old boy I have rescued with his mother.

He is always watching us, his eyes filled with admiration.

Despite his age, he is eager to participate in the training, mimicking our movements with surprising enthusiasm.

I have told him that I won't allow him to participate in combat missions, that it is too dangerous.

But he remains determined, telling me that he wants to be as strong as I am.

His unwavering spirit and admiration, while touching, also worry me. This world is no place for a child.

But I understand his desire to protect himself, to contribute. I decide to channel his energy into less dangerous activities, perhaps focusing on skills that could be useful in other ways.

His determination, if properly guided, could be an asset to the community.

Our numbers have grown.

We are now a group of thirty, a small but resilient community carved out of the chaos.

Our scouting missions, which have become a regular part of our routine, have yielded more survivors.

Each rescue is a victory, a small beacon of hope in the encroaching darkness.

A week ago, I sent the strike team on their very first mission.

It is a carefully planned operation, targeting a small outpost overrun by infected.

I know they are ready, but I also know that experience is the best teacher.

This mission is designed to give them that experience, to test their skills in a real-world scenario.

I monitor the operation closely through the drone feeds, ready to intervene if necessary.

They perform admirably, their training paying off.

They move with precision and coordination, taking down the infected with ruthless efficiency.

They return to the base successful, not only having cleared the outpost but also having gathered valuable supplies.

It is a promising start. They are becoming the force I need them to be.

A piercing alarm shatters the relative tranquility of the base, jolting everyone into a state of heightened alert.

Simultaneously, a new mission notification flashes across my system interface:

Mission: Subdue the Evolved

Evolved kills: 0/2

Reward:

Unlock skill - I cool (Passive)

description ability to keep mind cool and to remain calm even in unfavorable conditions

Even before I can fully process the notification, the AI's holographic projection materializes, displaying a chilling scene.

A horde of infected, their numbers vast and their movements frenzied, are rapidly approaching our perimeter.

And leading them, is a towering figure, its form distorted and its eyes glowing with malevolent intelligence – an Evolved.

My heart pounds. This is it. The true test. The trial by fire.

"Everyone to your stations!" I command, my voice echoing through the base. "We have incoming!"

This isn't just a random encounter. The Evolved, with its heightened awareness, is clearly targeting our base.

This is a deliberate attack, a challenge. And we will meet it head-on.

"Strike team, prepare for perimeter defense!" I order.

"Drones, provide real-time surveillance and target acquisition. Non-combatants, move to the inner shelter. AI, activate all automated defenses."

I survey the holographic projection, assessing the horde's movements and the Evolved's strategy.

This is a perfect opportunity to evaluate my team's capabilities under pressure.

Their training, their teamwork, their resilience – it will all be tested now.

We will defend our fortress, and we will subdue the Evolved. This is not just a mission; it is a statement. We will not be broken.

The Evolved, two hulking monstrosities, reach a massive tree trunk and swing it like battering rams towards our main gate.

The impacts shake the entire fortress, and I can hear the reinforced steel groan under the strain.

Our automated gatling sentry, positioned atop the watchtower, opens fire, spewing a hail of bullets towards the Evolved.

But to my dismay, the rounds seem to have little effect, bouncing harmlessly off their thick hides. These creatures are tougher than I anticipated.

"We can't rely on the automated defenses alone!" I yell to my team. "Strike team, engage! Flanking maneuvers, prioritize the weaker infected.

We need to thin the horde before they overwhelm us."

We launch a coordinated assault, our movements swift and decisive.

Han So Chul and his friends, armed with a combi

nation of firearms and melee weapons, cut through the horde like a scythe through wheat.

Each passing moments the evolved's attack grow more ferocious, more desperate. I'm running out of time.