Re: Apocalypse Game



The atmosphere was palpable. The massive tent, known as the military HQ, was adorned with maps of the city, pinned strategically on the walls. Tables with various communication devices were positioned towards the back. Alan noted the massive digital clock displaying the 36-hour countdown for the D-rank group event titled [Rescue Prisoners]. 

Alan had rightly foreseen the Military Army's decision to marshal every available player for this crucial server-wide mission. This foresight had been the key driving factor behind his enlistment in the militia force. He wanted to be at the epicenter of action, and this was his opportunity.

As Alan, Merle, and Vicky entered the briefing tent, the sheer number of attendees was daunting. Over a hundred players, each representing different factions and groups from the server, had assembled. The dim lighting in the tent cast an eerie glow on the faces of militia leaders, officers, and squad leaders, making them appear even more resolute.

Alan's keen eyes darted around the tent. He tried to gauge the strength, intentions, and alliances forming in real-time. Front and center stood Captain Sam Carter, a tall woman with an air of authority that was hard to ignore. She was flanked by five lieutenants, each with a unique insignia that marked their rank and division.

Four of them commanded their respective companies, Alpha. Bravo, Charlie, and Delta each with 200 soldiers at hand. The fifth however was a special one. Lieutenant Summers bore a badge symbolizing the US military Delta forces. The most highly trained elite forces in the US military.

It wasn't just the lieutenants who caught Alan's attention. There were officers who seemed to be in charge of other specialized units. The Mobile units and the Logistics Unit. Among them, Alan's previous acquaintance, Sergeant Dylan.

Not just the formidable military presence, but also various factions were represented within the tent. The Black Sand mercenaries had a corner of their own, their dark-clad members emanating an air of menace and capability. And at their helm stood Cachellos, a name that was whispered in many circles with a mix of respect and fear. His reputation as a ruthless and strategic leader preceded him. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back, observing the room with sharp, predatory eyes.

However, one noticeable absence from this eclectic mix was the Blood Patriots. Their absence was conspicuous and triggered whispered conversations among the attendees. Were they planning to act independently, or was this an intentional snub to the military's efforts?

As murmurs filled the room, Captain Sam Carter, a woman of distinct stature and poise, stepped forward. She silenced the tent with a single, commanding statement, "Alright now that everyone's here, I am going to brief our strategy."

With a determined gaze, Captain Carter first provided an overview of their collective strength. A holographic screen showcased the numbers:

[20 militia Units: 1520 players]

[4 Military Company: 1000 players].

The total force comprised a staggering 2520 players. Alan was inwardly impressed. In his previous life's recollections, they hadn't managed to muster even half this number.

Captain Carter then unveiled a detailed map of the town. It displayed the layout, with critical points and recent intel marked in different colors. The data had been gathered from multiple reconnaissance missions over the past few days. Every Nazi outpost, patrol route, and defensive position was meticulously marked. The intel seemed comprehensive, a testament to the military's thoroughness.

Moving to the crux of her briefing, Captain Carter outlined the mission strategy. It was a textbook example of the 'Divide and Conquer' tactic. Four military companies would be strategically placed at each of the town's entrances. They would be bolstered by select militia units, ensuring every entrance was heavily guarded. 

Their primary task? Draw the maximum attention of the Nazi soldiers. This would create a diversion, allowing the elite Special Forces, led by Lieutenant Summer, and the formidable Black Sand mercenaries to execute a covert raid on the prisoners' building.

As the briefing progressed, allocations were made. Alan's heart rate ticked up a notch when he heard that his militia would be paired with Delta Company led by Lieutenant Marsh, a name from Alan's past, who was about to become a significant figure in his present.

Captain Carter continued her briefing, ensuring that everyone present understood the weight of their upcoming tasks. As she delved into the details of the three mission objectives, the tent was enveloped in a silence punctuated only by the subtle rustling of papers and the occasional scribble of notes.

"The primary objective," she began, pointing at the screen displaying the words, [Stop the invading Nazi], Secondary objectives [Take over the town]. The two were self-explanatory. However, the mention of the third objective [Locate and stop WMD] was rife with speculation and murmurs.

"As of now, our intel is limited. Unfortunately, none seem to have any concrete clue about this quest, If you find any please share them"

Alan certainly knew about some of the details of this mission, however now it was not the time to reveal them. He needed to gather more information and find the right way to make the most benefits out of it.

Taking a deep breath and looking over the crowd of players, she added with a resolute voice, "Challenges ahead are daunting, but they're not insurmountable. Let's work together, aim for the best, and prepare for the worst."

With that, the briefing concluded. The tent slowly began to empty, with players heading in different directions, discussing strategies, or lost in thought.

As Alan exited the HQ tent, the bright sunlight momentarily blinded him. Adjusting his eyes, he was approached by Dylan, who wore a cheerful grin, in stark contrast to the heavy atmosphere inside the tent.

"Alan!, Good news. I've found two players with the [farming] ability you had inquired about."

Dylan led the way through the bustling camp, maneuvering around groups of soldiers, makeshift tents, and campfires, to a quieter corner where three men were seated. As Alan approached, recognition dawned on him; it was Bill and his two imposing Russian bodyguards, Igor and Andrey. Their disheveled appearance and downtrodden expressions painted a tale of recent hardships.

As they locked eyes, Bill immediately jumped to his feet, rushing to Alan. His once confident demeanor was replaced by sheer desperation. "Alan, you have to help me," he pleaded, wringing his hands together. Igor and Andrey stayed back, their immense stature contrasting the forlorn expressions on their faces.

"My own family tricked me, they wanted me dead" Bill exclaimed, his voice quivering.

Amid the chaotic surroundings, Bill's revelation about the mercenaries took Alan by surprise. Although the duo stood behind Bill with an air of intimidation, their demeanor hinted at something far removed from battle-hardened warriors. Bill's nervous gesture towards Igor and Andrey made it evident that he wasn't joking. As Alan's gaze shifted from Bill's anxious face to the silent, towering figures and back, Dylan's mention of their unique farming skills began to make sense.

The duo, Igor and Andrey, bore an earthy presence. The [Farming (novice)] skill was exactly what he had been looking for.

"I'll offer whatever it takes," Bill's voice trembled, "Just...keep me safe."

Alan assessed the situation. Having two farmers was a boon, and if it meant taking in Bill as well, so be it. However, before making any decision, he wanted a clear understanding of their capabilities.

"Show me your stats," Alan instructed.

Both Russians presented stats that, despite being at level 12, showcased commendable endurance and strength. Bill's stats, on the other hand, were unexpected.

[Billy Rhoades, Male, 34 years]

[Level 12: 9260/10000]

[HP: 180/180]

[Stamina: 100%]

[Strength: E-]

[Agility: E-]

[Endurance: E]

[Perception: E]

[Intelligence: E+]

[Spirit: F-]

[Skill- Common]

[Small firearm (Expert)]

[Skill- Unique]

[Mercantile (Basic)]

The Mercantile skill was intriguing. It granted players the ability to secure items at discounted rates. A smirk played on Alan's lips, imagining how the CEO's skill could become an asset.

"Fine, Bill. You and your men can join us," Alan decided, casting a glance towards the west. "Over there, we have a fortified farm. It's secure and needs skilled hands like Igor's and Andrey's." The two men exchanged a brief look before nodding, a silent affirmation of their decision.

Bill, a bit relieved, asked, "And you, Alan? Where will you be?"

As the evening sun cast long shadows on the camp, its golden hues creating a picturesque scene, Alan felt the gravity of the situation. With the impending night, he would lead a band of 40 players on a daunting raid, setting the tone for the challenges ahead.