Thomas pondered his options carefully. Infantry would be the safe choice, but with his current resources, he needed elite soldiers—operatives who could think tactically and execute orders with precision. Special Forces were the best investment.
He navigated through the Summon Troops interface and selected 40 Special Forces operatives, noting the additional cost. The system clarified that souls alone would summon personnel, but weapons and gear required blood coins. A bundled package ensured each soldier was fully equipped with:
M4 Carbine (Primary)
M9 Beretta (Sidearm)
Standard combat uniform
Ammunition and tactical knives
Radios, tactical helmets, and goggles
The total cost: 50,000 Blood Coins. He confirmed the purchase.
Immediately, a magic circle flared on the ground, glowing with a deep blue hue as 40 soldiers materialized in perfect formation. Their stance was rigid, postures disciplined, and each wore black tactical gear, their faces concealed beneath helmets and masks.
Curious, Thomas stepped forward and reached out, pressing his hand against one of them. The soldier's body felt real—solid muscle beneath the uniform, athletic yet unnaturally still. They were like living machines, awaiting command.
As he swept his gaze over them, Thomas knew he couldn't manage them alone. He needed one of them to step up and volunteer to act as his second-in-command.
"I need one of you to volunteer. Step forward to those who are willing to be my second-in-command," he ordered.
One of the operatives responded without hesitation, breaking formation. He reached up, removing his vest, then unfastened his helmet, revealing his short, light brown hair and sharp blue eyes. His chiseled jawline and hardened expression gave him the look of a battle-hardened veteran.
"Do you have a name, soldier?" Thomas asked.
"I don't have one, sir. But if you prefer me to have a name, you can come up with one," said the soldier with a thick American accent.
"Very well soldier, your name will be Phillip," Thomas declared.
Phillip saluted, standing firm.
Thomas, without thinking, returned the salute, as if it was second nature. Their hands lowered in unison.
"Awaiting mission, sir," Phillip said in a sharp, professional tone.
Before Thomas could answer, a system notification appeared in his interface, prompting him to check.
[ New Quest: Establish a Base ]
[Objective: Secure a location free of zombies and fortify it for long-term survival.
Rewards: 100,000 Blood Coins, 25,000 Experience Points, and 1x Special Ticket to Fortune Wheel.]
Thomas rubbed his chin. It made sense. With a force of 40 elite soldiers, he could finally start something permanent instead of constantly being on the move. He needed a base—a safe zone.
Another notification popped up.
[Recurring Quest: Savior of Humanity ]
Objective: For every survivor saved, receive 10,000 Blood Coins and 2,500 Experience Points.
Duration: Permanent.
Thomas's brows lifted slightly. Unlike previous quests, which had a defined end, this one was ongoing, meaning it was designed to grow as long as he kept rescuing people.
This could change everything.
For now, he had two priorities: Find a base and clear it, and locate survivors.
Since he had decided that this hotel would be his base of operations, he had to snuff this building out of zombies in order to finish the quest.
"Okay listen up. As for your mission, we are going to exterminate all undead present in this hotel," Thomas began, his eyes sweeping across each and one of them. "We don't know the layout of this hotel but I do know that it is a luxurious one, which means it has multiple floors, narrow hallways, and plenty of rooms where zombies could be lurking. We'll be moving tactically—room by room, floor by floor—until the entire building is clear. If you find a survivor, I want them contained in the place where you found them, we will deal with them later."
Phillip spoke up. "How are we going to do this sir? Are we going to split up or go together?"
"Since we don't have any information regarding the layout of this hotel, I'd say we go together and split up along the way. We are going to make our way up the hotel, clear each floor, and leave a team if necessary for lookout and containment." Thomas paused, ensuring every soldier was paying attention. "We move in formation, room by room. No one rushes in blind. If we encounter a horde, we fall back to a defensive position. No unnecessary risks."
Phillip gave a firm nod. "Understood, sir. What's our entry point?"
"Our entry point would be the stairwell since we're currently in the basement parking. From there, we'll locate the main hall and expect zombie activity along the way," Thomas explained, scanning his men's reactions. "Stay alert. We don't know if the stairwell is packed or if we'll be facing sporadic resistance."
"Understood sir."
"Last but not least, maintain communication with one another," Thomas said. "I don't want you guys losing on me as I have invested a lot in you."
"Copy that, sir. We'll stay sharp," Phillip assured.
Thomas nodded and turned toward the stairwell door, gripping his M4 Carbine. The 40-man squad shifted into a tactical formation, rifles raised, ready for engagement.
"Alright, stack up," Phillip ordered.
The first fireteam moved into position on either side of the stairwell entrance, their weapons trained on the door. One soldier reached out and tested the handle—locked.
Phillip looked at Thomas. "Your call, sir."
"Breach it," Thomas ordered without hesitation.
Phillip nodded and signaled one of the operatives to pry the door open. He aimed his M4 Carbine at the handle and with a squeeze of the trigger, the handle fell off, and after that, the operative kicked the door open.
As soon as the door swung open, the three zombies let out guttural snarls, their rotting forms lurching forward in a mad dash.
The operative who performed the breach procedure reacted instantly.
Phfft! Phfft!
The first zombie's skull snapped backward, a burst of crimson and decayed tissue splattering against the wall as the suppressed rounds struck true.
Phfft!
The second zombie took a shot to the forehead, its momentum carrying it forward for another step before it collapsed in a heap.
The last one lunged—too close for comfort.
Without hesitation, the operative pivoted, drew his combat knife, and thrust it upward into the zombie's jaw, piercing straight into its brain. The creature let out a sickening gurgle before going limp.
Thomas, watching the seamless execution, was impressed.
[You have killed 3 zombies.]
[Blood Coins +450 | Experience Points +180]
He nodded in approval. "That's what I like to see."
The operative merely nodded back, wiping the black ichor from his blade before sheathing it.
Phillip motioned toward the open stairwell and checked it. "Sir, we are clear. Shall we proceed?"
Thomas simply nodded