Making an Appearance

Fatigue lined Richard's features as he released a weary sigh, his hand moving across the paper with a fountain pen, etching out his speech.

"Sir, we have thirty minutes until the orientation begins," Mark reported, placing a steaming cup of coffee on Richard's desk.

Richard reached for the cup, the warmth seeping through the ceramic and into his tired fingers.

"Who would've thought that crafting a speech could be this challenging," Richard mused, his gaze briefly lifting from the paper. He was determined to make a lasting impact on the survivors they had rescued within the condominium. To him, a well-delivered speech held the potential to foster unity and instill hope among them.

"Well, sir, you are just lacking sleep," Mark said. "You should rest after delivering the speech. After all, you've been awake for twenty-four hours."

Mark was right, he hadn't slept since the apocalypse started. Yesterday was a loaded activity, sweeping the buildings of zombies, rescuing his sister, organizing his organization, and overseeing the cleanup of the corpses of the zombies they eliminated on every building and floor.

The relentless demands of leadership, coupled with the urgency of their situation, had left little room for rest.

With a faint smile, Richard nodded in agreement. "Okay, I'll take that advice."

"Sir!" A voice rang out, brimming with enthusiasm. Richard turned his gaze toward the source, recognizing it to be Graves, his newly appointed Chief of Staff for Special Operations.

Graves stood before him, a crisp salute punctuating his greeting. "Good morning, sir!"

"Good morning, Graves," Richard replied, acknowledging the salutation. "What brings you here?"

"I just wanted to report that our soldiers are currently escorting every civilian to the function room, and they're holding them there as we speak," Graves informed. "Also, I wanted to express my gratitude for the promotion you've given me. Though I must admit, I still have the itch to work in the field."

A small smile tugged at the corners of Richard's lips. "Don't worry, Graves. Your field experience won't go to waste. I fully intend to give you the opportunity to lead operations on the ground. The promotion is more about ensuring a structured hierarchy within our ranks. I hope you understand."

Graves nodded in understanding. "Of course, sir. I appreciate the clarification."

Richard acknowledged Graves's loyalty with a nod before turning his attention to the flat television screen mounted on the wall. The television displayed real-time footage of the survivors filling the function room and taking their seats.

***

Twenty-five minutes later.

On the eighth floor. Lisa and her classmates were in a line with the other civilian survivors of the condominium. They were being directed and guided by the soldiers on the ground, who waved their hands to guide the survivors into the spacious function room.

"There's really a lot of people here…" Angela observed.

"And they are all rich-looking," Denise added. "As expected of a high-end condominium."

"Yeah…but not like their money is going to matter in this apocalypse," Lisa said softly.

"What do you think your brother is going to say?" Angela asked.

"Probably to assure everyone that everything is going to be okay, words like that," Lisa anticipated. "Oh…we are approaching the entrance now."

The soldiers who stood by the entrance raised a hand, stopping them.

"Excuse me miss, are you Lisa Gonzales?"

"I am…" Lisa confirmed. "Why?"

"Our boss has prepared a special seat for you and your classmates," the soldier explained politely. "Please follow me."

Lisa exchanged surprised glances with her classmates before nodding at the soldier's request. The soldier led them down the central aisle, past rows of filled seats.

Lisa's gaze swept over the faces of the survivors, noting a mix of expressions—hope, concern, and the shared weight of their circumstances.

Finally, the soldier stopped at the front row, where seven empty seats awaited.

"Here you go, miss," the soldier said, gesturing to the seats.

"Thank you," she replied softly.

The minutes ticked by, and the function room gradually filled to capacity. Minutes later, the lights dimmed slightly, and a hush fell over the room as Richard stepped up to the podium.

"Your brother looks cool in his military outfit…" Denise whispered. "I didn't realize this by now."

"Shh…it's starting," Lisa gently patted Denise's thigh, shutting her up.

Richard cleared his throat and began.

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. You must all be wondering why you're here. Well, I have a few matters to address. But first, let me introduce myself. I'm Richard Gonzales, the CEO of the Private Military Company known as Blackwatch. Twenty-four hours ago, when the apocalypse began, the world as we know it fell apart. Major cities are under siege, and governments are crumbling. It's with a heavy heart that I tell you, we're now on our own to face this unprecedented threat.

During our sweep of this building, many of you mistook us for members of the Armed Forces of the Philippines. I want to clarify right now that we're not affiliated with the national government or any other country. However, I assure you that, just like the government's military, we're committed to keeping everyone within these walls safe.

And for that, I ask for your cooperation. All of your food, water, and essential supplies in your units should be brought to the seventh floor. We'll distribute them evenly among ourselves. Second, I ask those of you with medical, engineering, or other useful skills to please come to offer your expertise and assistance. Third, those who are able-bodied, men and women alike, are to participate in training for self-defense. You will be taught how to fight and eliminate zombies, and you'll be added to our forces.

I want everyone to contribute because we're currently at war with the undead. We can't face this challenge alone—we need every single one of you. Now, let's discuss the rules here. Felony crimes such as murder, assault, and rape will not be tolerated. Anyone found guilty of these offenses will face execution by firing squad. When it comes to misdemeanor crimes, there will be three levels of offenses, each with escalating penalties. The most severe consequence is expulsion, which means being removed from our community.

I urge everyone to use common sense. Just because an apocalypse has occurred doesn't mean we abandon our humanity.

Furthermore, we'll set up an assistance desk. If you have any information, concerns, or suggestions, or you want to report someone for a crime, don't hesitate to approach them.

As for the security of this condominium, we're happy to announce that this condominium is now zombie-free, thanks to the tireless efforts of the soldiers who worked day and night to exterminate them. However, it doesn't mean we will lower our guard. We will maintain round-the-clock security patrols. I guess I have covered everything. That will be all, thank you for listening, please don't clap, we don't want to attract the zombies outside."

When Richard concluded his speech, a notification tab appeared.

[New Mission Unlocked: Rescuing Survivors]

[For every human being you saved, one less zombie to fight. In this mission, you are to save survivors as much as you can and get handsome rewards.

Reward: 5,000 gold coins per person.

Duration: Unlimited,]

[Since you have rescued a total of 277 survivors, you will receive 1,385,000 gold coins.]

Richard gasped inwardly. So he could now farm gold coins by saving people huh?