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The setting sun cast an amber glow on the steel walls of the fortress as the Hammer transport rolled back into the garage bay, its engine rumbling low like a satisfied beast returning from a hunt.
Takashi Komuro stepped out first, followed closely by Saeko Busujima—her sword red-stained but clean, her eyes sharp, Hiroki, heavy trained, and Kohta, with his fuzil.
Then came the fifth figure, stepping out with a confident swagger: Izana Kuroinu.
Red suit, dark shades, boots stained with blood and ash, and a crooked grin that said he didn't give a single damn about the end of the world.
Behind them, the remaining crates were unloaded: ammo, high-grade silencers, extra barrels, reinforced suppressors, laser sights, and a good dozen cans of gasoline and diesel, topped with tire armor kits and quick-install roll cages for the vehicles.
Kohta whistled low as he checked the haul. "Santa came early this year."
After unloading everything, the group gathered in the garage, forming a loose semicircle around the new arrival. Izana reached into his pocket, lit a thin cigar, and gave a lazy bow.
"Izana Kuroinu. Lieutenant of the Kuroinu-kai. Been keeping these crates out of raiders' hands until this handsome bastard here found me."
He clapped Takashi on the back, earning a grunt.
Rei raised an eyebrow. "And you and Marco-san are…?"
"Old allies," Marco said, stepping in. "When I landed in Japan, I knew I'd need firepower and no government ties. He was my contact for custom parts, ammo, underground transport lines. Didn't expect him to still be kicking."
Izana grinned. "Kicking? Baby, I'm fucking dancing."
A few chuckles broke the tension.
Marco gave him a nod and opened his System Interface, eyes flickering as Izana's profile materialized.
[SYSTEM]
Name: Izana Kuroinu
Age: 34
Survival Level: 5/10 (Tier 3)
Survival Abilities: 5 – (Logistics Coordinator / Black Market Expert / Expert Tactical Driver / Weapons Expert {Lvl.2} / Close Combat Veteran {Lvl.2})
Weaknesses: Bad temper / Overconfident / Smokes too much
Summary: A Yakuza lieutenant with a vast knowledge of weapons, fuel logistics, and vehicle mechanics. Ideal for supply chain management and black-market intelligence. Trustworthy, but chaotic.
Marco synced the data to Kyoko's tablet.
Kyoko gave a small nod. "I'll integrate him into our logistics and transport team. He'll coordinate with Kohta for resupply routes and handle any shady negotiations."
Izana tilted his head. "So I'm official now?"
Marco smirked. "Welcome to the madhouse."
By the time night fell, the fortress interior was dimly lit with LED strips and old Japanese paper lamps someone had salvaged for atmosphere.
In the main common room, the group sat in a circle around the long dinner table. Kaede and Saeko had worked wonders with ration packs, some canned vegetables, and rice from a nearby farm's storehouse.
Steam rose from bowls of curry rice, miso soup, and a few makeshift side dishes. Despite the day's chaos, it smelled like a feast.
Ayumu was already halfway through her second bowl.
Kohta was showing off his new rifle scope to Hiroki, who was clearly more interested in the food.
Saya was holding her tablet and talking strategy with Rei.
Shizuka-sensei was trying to steal bites from everyone's plate.
Kyoko was sitting beside Marco, handing out the finalized shift schedule.
Izana sat at the edge of the table, next to Kaede, who smiled politely as she served him a bowl.
He raised an eyebrow. "Homemade food from a beautiful woman in the apocalypse? What did I do to deserve this?"
Kaede chuckled softly. "Probably karma catching up with you in a good way, Kuroinu-san."
"Oh no, please," he said, leaning closer. "Just call me Izana. Or handsome. I answer to both."
She shook her head with a soft laugh, pretending not to notice his wink.
"Don't push your luck, Izana-san."
"Luck is all I have left, Kaede-dono."
After everyone settled Saya tapped her fork on the bowl. "Alright. Let's talk about watches. We'll do four shifts, two per shift. Nobody alone."
Kyoko pointed at the schedule. "First shift: Kohta and Hiroki. Second: Me and Ayumu. Third: Saeko and Shizuka-sensei. Last shift before dawn: Marco-kun and Kanako-chan."
Marco blinked. "Kanako?"
Kyoko shrugged. "Figured it was time for you two to do something together that doesn't involve one of you limping the next morning."
Kanako smirked from across the table, resting her cheek on her hand. "Looking forward to it, Marco-kun."
He grinned. "Guess I am too."
The night air was cool, the scent of ash and faint diesel carried on the breeze.
Marco and Kanako walked along the outer perimeter wall, their rifles slung over their backs. The moonlight lit their faces in pale silver.
For a while, they walked in silence.
Then Kanako spoke.
"You're always in control. Always leading. Do you ever get tired of it?"
Marco exhaled slowly. "Sometimes. But if I stop, people die."
She nodded. "I figured. Still… you're allowed to lean on someone, you know."
He glanced at her. "Are you offering?"
Kanako stopped walking. "Maybe."
She stepped closer. "I'm not fragile. I've seen blood, loss, pain. You don't have to pretend around me."
Marco looked down at her—those sharp green eyes, that confidence laced with vulnerability.
He leaned in. "Good. Because I'm too tired to pretend tonight."
Their lips met, slow and deep, under the moonlight.
Kanako pressed against him, hands in his jacket, and for a moment, the world's weight lifted off his shoulders.
When they finally broke apart, she rested her head against his chest.
"I'm glad you're the one leading us."
Marco kissed the top of her head.
"And I'm glad you're here to keep me grounded."
They stood there, quiet but stronger than ever.
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The first light of dawn cast golden streaks over the steel walls of Fortress One, revealing the faint haze of smoke rising from the distant city.
Inside, the rhythm of survival had already begun.
The air smelled of brewed instant coffee, sweat, gun oil, and faintly—hope.
Kohta and Hiroki were already up before the sun, rifles loaded, eyes sharp. They moved along the southern perimeter wall, scanning rooftops and alleys beyond the outer fencing.
Kohta peered through his scope, exhaling softly. "Nothing yet… looks like the bastards are sleeping in today."
Hiroki chuckled. "Maybe they got hangovers. Even zombies need to rest from all that biting."
Kohta grinned. "Let's hope they choke on someone dumb before they get here."
As they rounded the west watchtower, a rustle near a trash pile caught Hiroki's eye.
Movement.
Fast.
"Shit—Kohta!"
A stray infected burst out, sprinting toward the wall.
Kohta didn't hesitate. Pfft! The suppressed shot cracked, the bullet tearing through the creature's eye socket.
It dropped like a puppet with its strings cut.
Kohta lowered his rifle. "Fucking sprinters. I hate when they learn to run."
Hiroki exhaled. "Well. At least we know they're still active."
In the command room, Saya Takagi adjusted the central digital map, syncing live data from their drone sweeps and patrol reports.
Around her, the full team was gathered.
Marco stood at the head, arms crossed. "Okay. Let's start with yesterday's outcome."
He tapped the screen. "We've got a functional fuel depot, a cache of weapon mods, and a new ally in the form of our local badass Yakuza."
Izana, leaning back in his chair with his boots on the table, raised his hand. "Present."
Marco continued. "Bravo Team did solid recon. Chika-chan's been integrated into support training. We'll rotate her through logistics drills starting tomorrow."
Chika nodded shyly from her seat next to Ayumu.
Kyoko read from her tablet. "Everyone's guard rotation was followed precisely. No incidents in base security. Resource usage is efficient."
Kaede added, "Meal prep for today is scheduled. Supplies holding. We'll need to find fresh produce soon, though."
Saeko spoke next. "I propose we split the next recon into a sweep and secure pattern. Pair one combatant with one logistics-support."
Marco nodded. "Good. I want every outpost, rooftop, alley, and resource stash within a five-kilometer radius mapped by next week."
Shizuka raised her hand. "Umm, Marco-kun… something weird came through on the long-range radio last night."
Marco raised an eyebrow. "Define weird."
She handed him a paper with transcribed code. "Encrypted broadcast. Weak signal. But it's repeating every three hours."
Saya took the page, eyes narrowing.
"It's not Takagi Estate's pattern. It's… different. Structured."
Marco leaned in. "Play the recording."
The room went silent.
Shizuka pressed play.
Static.
Then a faint, distorted voice.
"...any survivors... frequency seven-four-point-niner... safe zone... repeat... safe zone active in…"
More static.
Then the same message.
Saya looked at Marco. "That's not local."
Kyoko confirmed. "No. It's coming from the far west. Possibly Nagoya. Maybe farther."
Izana stood up, expression serious. "If there's a safe zone that far and someone's broadcasting… it means military remnants or someone with infrastructure."
Marco exhaled. "And if they're organizing survivors, they'll need allies. Maybe even us. Or could be a trap of dissidents"
Rei stepped forward. "Should we investigate?"
"Not yet," Marco replied. "Too far, too many unknowns. But we monitor. And prepare. If shit collapses here—we go west."
Saya crossed her arms. "We'll need a plan for that. Vehicles, fuel, supplies, alternate routes."
Kyoko nodded. "I'll draft contingencies."
Marco looked over the room. "Today's focus is fortification, sweep patrols, and prepping the new garage bay. Izana, I want your eyes on our vehicle upgrades. Talk to Kohta and Hiroki about armor layouts."
"Finally, some greasy work," Izana said with a grin.
"Kaede-dono," Marco turned. "Let's review our food storage after lunch. Saeko, you're running drills with the rookies. Chika, Ayumu—shadow her."
"Hai!" they chimed.
"Everyone else—get moving."
Later in the day, as the teams dispersed, Marco found himself beside Saya on the inner balcony.
She leaned against the railing, arms folded.
"You trust that signal?" she asked.
"I trust potential," he said. "It's better than silence."
She tilted her head. "You know… you never told me what brought you to Japan before this mess."
He smirked. "Let's just say… I had a few problems back home that were easier to leave behind."
Saya smiled faintly. "Well, I'm glad you're here. Otherwise we'd all be dead."
Marco looked out over the courtyard. "No. You'd survive. But maybe not together."
She didn't answer. But she didn't deny it either.
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