Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse With My Military System

The Oriental Blackwatch Private Military Company convoy rolled up to the main entrance of World's Resort Manila, engines humming ominously in the otherwise quiet surroundings.

High above, the guard in the watchtower quickly surveyed the scene. His gaze locked onto the Boss, seeking confirmation. A brief nod from the Boss, and the message was clear. The convoy was to be let in.

The guard relayed the approval with a sharp nod of his own to the men stationed at the gates. Swiftly and efficiently, they pulled the gates open, the sound of metal grating against metal piercing the silent air.

One by one, the military vehicles of the convoy entered, their tires crunching against the gravel. They parked in a disciplined arc formation, engines falling silent almost in unison. Doors opened, and the soldiers hopped out, boots hitting the ground as they quickly fanned out into formation. The Boss observed from his vantage point, eyes scrutinizing every movement.

They are not your typical militia, he could tell that they are well-trained and well-organized. Are they in the Philippine Army? Judging from their active combat uniform, that doesn't seem to be the case. They wore a uniform similar to that of the United States Marines and from the slit of their balaclava. He could see that they weren't of Austronesian descent but rather Caucasian, lending further credence to the notion that these were foreign operatives. 

He studied them intently. Their equipment was top-tier, a notch above what was standard issue in the region. The embossed emblem on their armored vehicles wasn't recognizable. It was a knife piercing a skull, an emblem unfamiliar to the Boss. 

Could it be that they are private mercenaries? No, if it's that the case, then how come they were able to secure sophisticated air and ground assets? The uncertainty was unsettling. Every fiber of his being was attuned to threats, to the unknown variables that filled their decimated world, and this convoy was precisely that - an unknown variable. The soldiers' discipline, the silent authority with which they held their positions, was an unspoken declaration of capability, and the Boss was not one to underestimate a potential adversary.

Meanwhile, inside the World's Resorts Manila. The survivors living in the camp looked out from their windows curiously and saw every scene the Boss saw from his vantage point. An army.

The news spread throughout the camp and suddenly, more and more people flooded into the rooms that had a clear view of the proceedings outside. Whispers and speculations ran rife. The sight of a well-organized military unit was both a spectacle and a source of anxiety. Were they saviors or a new threat?

Outside, Mark, the representative of the Blackwatch Private Military stepped forward and craned his neck up, looking at the Boss who looked down on him. One of the soldiers walked up next to Mark and handed him a megaphone.

Mark nodded in gratitude before looking up at the Boss again. 

"Who's here is the Chief of Staff of this camp?" Mark asked. 

"That would be me," The Boss from the rooftop replied.

"It would be difficult to communicate if you are standing a four-story building above me," Mark called out, the slight hint of irony not escaping those who heard. "But before you come down, I want proof of life. Show us Graves." 

The Boss glanced over his shoulder and nodded to the right, beckoning his men to bring Graves to the edge. 

Graves was pushed forward, his presence serving as evidence that he was still alive. Mark peered up, scrutinizing the captive, before giving a satisfied nod.

"Alright, we have a lot to discuss. Graves' safety for our cooperation. Does that work for you?" Mark asked, his tone business-like, revealing nothing of his personal stakes in this negotiation.

The Boss considered for a moment and then gestured for his men to bring Graves down. Mark's demands were clear, and the negotiation ground was set - each party had something the other wanted. 

Graves was escorted down, his hands bound but his stride firm. As he reached the ground, he nodded at Mark casually. 

"Oh my god, Graves, how did they catch you?" Mark said with a smug look on his face. "Now I don't know if you are capable of operating clandestine operations."

"I'm just unlucky," Graves replied. "I got betrayed by someone that I was genuinely helping."

Graves clicked his tongue as the past memories of him with Maria resurfaced in his mind. The betrayal was still fresh, a sting that mingled with the humiliation of captivity. He hadn't expected to be backstabbed by someone he had put his trust in.

It's true what they say in the apocalypse, you can't simply trust someone other than you and your close circle. 

Mark noticed the flash of anger and betrayal crossing Graves' face. He decided not to press further. 

Meanwhile, The Boss, now on the grounds, eyed both men. 

"Now are we ready to negotiate?" The Boss said, snapping their attention at him.

Mark noted his height, he was tall and bulky and exuded an intimidating aura. No wonder why everyone in this camp is submissive to the man. 

He glanced around and saw the Boss militia aiming their M16 rifles at them. 

Mark cleared his throat and began. "We are ready. Since you have held the end of your bargain, we are going to hold ours. But first, can you tell your men to lower their weapons? I'm quite getting nervous here, and if I'm nervous, I might make some rash decisions," Mark stated, maintaining a composed but firm demeanor.

The Boss considered Mark for a moment, then motioned to his men. The soldiers hesitated but eventually lowered their weapons, though their vigilance remained intact.

"Alright," the Boss began, his deep voice cutting through the tense atmosphere. "Let's get to it." 

With a flick of Mark's finger, a group of soldiers walked forward, carrying supply crates containing ammunition, weapons, medical supplies, and non-perishable foods. 

They set it down in front of the Boss, who had his men inspect the contents immediately. It was an unspoken agreement that no surprises would be tolerated. The inspection confirmed the goods' authenticity.

"Good," The Boss said with a nod, however, there was a flicker of disappointment on his face. "But it's little. Where are the rest?" 

"I will bring it out once the three hundred civilians that sided with our friend's Graves here come out. Speaking of which, where are they?" 

"Oh, I nearly forgot about them. Well, you can have them, more people leaving my camp, less mouths to feed."

The Boss signaled his men to bring the civilians out. There was a noticeable tension in the air as the civilians, who had been held captive for siding with Graves, were brought forward. Their eyes were wide, a mix of fear and relief as they were finally released.

Mark nodded approvingly as the civilians were handed over. He kept his expression neutral but inside, there was a sense of satisfaction. One phase of his plan had worked; now onto the next step.

With the civilians safe, Mark ordered the rest of the supplies to be brought out. The Boss's men quickly inspected the new batch, confirming their quality and quantity.

"Alright, we're square now," The Boss declared, his voice carrying an edge of begrudging respect. Mark had held up his end of the bargain.

"Actually, there's one more thing," Mark added and the Boss tilted his head to the side.