The administrative divisions of Japan are categorized into prefectures, cities, and towns. Depending on its population and density, a town can be classified as either a township or a village.
Shimizu Masakazu, the Mayor of Odo Town, was a burly man in his forties with a bulbous head and oversized ears. He had the kind of greasy, ingratiating face that screamed "embezzlement" from a mile away. It was obvious at a glance that this man had swam in the murky waters of corruption for years.
"Master Busujima! Your personal visit is truly an honor for me!"
Shimizu rushed out of his office, bowing respectfully to the man before him.
Although Masao Busujima held no official government position, his social status towered over that of a mere town mayor. Kendo was the soul of the nation, and as the Grandmaster of the Busujima style, Masao was nominally the sword instructor to the highest echelons of power. Both the Emperor and the Prime Minister had, at least symbolically, learned a few techniques from him.
While the Emperor likely didn't spare much thought for a ceremonial instructor, the political reality remained: Masao Busujima could pick up the phone and reach people Mayor Shimizu couldn't even dream of meeting. Facing a man with a direct line to the Cabinet, a small-time mayor didn't dare show even a hint of disrespect.
"Mayor Shimizu, I have come here today to ask for a favor."
The two sat down in the conference room. Adrian Black, wearing the skin of the sword saint perfectly, cleared his throat and began to speak.
In his mind, however, the clock was ticking.
The global zombie crisis would sweep the world in two months. If he didn't prepare now, knowing the script in advance, he might as well slit his throat with a block of tofu and save the zombies the trouble.
Unfortunately, the Highschool of the Dead universe didn't follow the Resident Evil logic. There was no Umbrella Corporation to hack, no T-Virus lab to bomb. He couldn't prevent the outbreak at the source because the origin was never explained.
Besides, this was a "Novice Mission." The System was the Multiverse Evil System, not a Savior System. His job wasn't to save the world; it was to survive it and profit from the chaos.
So, over the past two days, Adrian had been planning his stronghold.
The zombies in this world were arguably the weakest in the genre. They were blind, relied entirely on sound, had no special mutations, and possessed zero intelligence. Logically, a competent military should have wiped them out in a week.
'And yet,' Adrian thought cynically, 'in this world, the Special Forces are somehow less competent than a group of horny high school students. It's baffling.'
Originally, he had planned to buy a private island. Zombies were famously bad swimmers, and an island surrounded by deep water seemed like the ultimate defense.
However, he recalled the final chapters of the manga. The protagonist, Takashi Komuro, had encountered zombies walking along the seabed to reach an offshore island.
'Zombies don't breathe,' Adrian realized. 'Their "fear" of water is just an instinctive aversion, not a physical limitation. If a horde wanders into the ocean, they won't drown; they'll just keep walking until they hit land.'
An island would be a trap. If a massive horde sank to the bottom and walked across the seabed, the coastline would become an indefensible death zone.
So, he had ruled out the ocean. He needed high ground.
"Master Busujima, you... you want to develop Mount Yokomizo?" Mayor Shimizu asked, blinking in surprise.
Mount Yokomizo was a prominent landmark located directly behind the Busujima Dojo in Tokonosu City.
The main peak stood about two hundred meters high. Thanks to strict environmental protections, the forest cover was dense and the ecology pristine. However, the mountain had a history: it had once served as a temporary base for the US military during the occupation. Remnants of concrete bunkers and military infrastructure still dotted the slopes.
This history was exactly why developers avoided it. Who knew if the US would suddenly declare it a military-controlled zone again? In the high-stakes real estate market of Tokonosu, nobody wanted to risk billions on land that might be seized by a foreign power.
"Mount Yokomizo is the spiritual backbone of our city," Adrian said, effortlessly slipping into the rhetoric of a right-wing nationalist. "We cannot let the ruins of an American base sit there, scarring our landscape. Where is our Japanese spirit? Therefore, I have an ambitious plan to redevelop Mount Yokomizo into a cultural park—a tourist attraction with educational significance to honor our heritage. I hope you can facilitate this, Mayor."
Choosing Mount Yokomizo wasn't a random decision. After days of scouting, Adrian knew it was the perfect fortress.
It was two hundred meters high with steep, defensible slopes. By reinforcing the existing military ruins and setting up defensive lines at the choke points, he could hold off an army of the dead. Furthermore, the mountain had natural springs and old wells, ensuring a fresh water supply. It was the ideal template for a post-apocalyptic base.
"A... tourist attraction?" Shimizu wiped sweat from his forehead. "Master, while I admire the sentiment, the town's budget is currently quite tight. A project of that scale..."
If Masao had asked for something small—like making a traffic ticket disappear or covering up a scandal—Shimizu would have agreed instantly. But developing a mountain? That cost billions.
Shimizu wondered if the old sword master had gone senile from too many hits to the head. Who builds a patriotic theme park in this economy?
"You misunderstand, Mayor," Adrian interrupted, his voice smooth. "The Busujima family is prepared to bear all costs for the construction and development. I only need your help to cut through the red tape and coordinate the permits."
Shimizu froze. He didn't have to pay?
Adrian smiled inwardly. In this world, money could solve 99.9% of problems.
Hearing that Masao Busujima was opening his own wallet, Shimizu's face transformed instantly. The worried bureaucrat vanished, replaced by a beaming, honest-looking public servant.
"Ah! Well, that changes everything!" Shimizu patted his chest enthusiastically. "If it is for the sake of our heritage, say no more! With just one word from you, Master Busujima, I will mobilize whatever manpower you need. We will ensure this park is built magnificently!"
It was just a barren mountain, idle and useless. Now, not only could he build a relationship with a powerful figure like Busujima, but he could also claim credit for a major local development project without spending a single yen of taxpayer money.
Only a fool would refuse such a golden opportunity.
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