Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse With My Military System

The harsh brightness stung the Boss's eyes as he slowly regained consciousness. A blurry haze enveloped his vision, making it difficult to discern his surroundings. Gradually, as the fog in his mind began to lift, the sharpness of the room around him snapped into focus. Sterile white walls, gleaming under the overhead lights, enclosed him. 

He found himself lying supine on a frigid metal table, the cold seeping through his clothes and prickling his skin. Panic surged within him as he realized that his arms and legs were restrained. Heavy-duty metal cuffs, the kind you'd expect to see in a high-security prison, secured him firmly to the table. With all his might, he tried to wrench his limbs free, but the cuffs held steadfast, not even allowing a millimeter of movement.

His eyes darted around the room, taking in the sight of people in pristine white coats. They moved with precision, attending to various pieces of equipment that beeped and whirred. Tubes, monitors, and intricate machinery surrounded him, adding to his growing sense of unease. The Boss tried to speak, to shout, to demand answers, but his voice came out as a raspy croak, hardly audible even to his own ears.

"Hey!" he managed to muster, the strain evident in his voice. "What is this place? Why am I here?"

His pleas went ignored. The individuals in the lab coats continued their tasks, seemingly undisturbed by his presence or his questions. It was as if he were an insignificant specimen, merely an object of curiosity and nothing more.

In the corner of the room, the Boss noticed a large glass window. Behind it, silhouettes of people watched intently, their features obscured by the reflection of the bright room lights. Were they observing him? Studying him? The realization that he was possibly the subject of some twisted experiment sent a fresh wave of dread coursing through him.

Suddenly, the door opened, and a man in his early twenties wearing a gray military uniform entered. He wondered who that person was. 

"Good afternoon, I hope you have a good sleep," the man greeted.

"Who are you?! What is this place?" The Boss demanded as he tried to break free from his restraints.

The man glanced at the restrained Boss with a hint of pity but mostly indifference. He took a moment to survey the room, his gaze lingering on the people in white coats and the equipment surrounding the table. Then, he locked eyes with the Boss, his expression unreadable.

"You can call me Richard," the man replied calmly, his voice steady. "As for where you are? This is the Blackwatch military camp. You're in one of our specialized labs."

The Boss's eyes widened in realization, memories flooding back. The standoff, the fight with Mark, the overpowering grip of the Blackwatch soldier – it all led to this. He swallowed hard, trying to keep his emotions in check.

"Why am I here? Why all the restraints and this... this lab setup?" The Boss's voice trembled, a mix of fear and anger evident in his tone.

Richard took a deep breath before answering, "We brought you here for a specific purpose. You will help us understand one thing that is baffling us." 

"What are you talking about?! I didn't sign up for this!" The Boss retorted, his voice rising in frustration.

Richard, maintaining his calm demeanor, replied, "It's about the pill. The one often found inside the mutated zombies. It's kind of edible but we wonder what the effect would be. Considering that you have done a lot of atrocious things during your reign at the World Resorts Manila, we have deemed you irredeemable, and therefore instead of executing you, we will make use 

of you for this experiment."

The Boss's face paled as he processed Richard's words. "So, you're telling me you're going to force-feed me some pill from a mutated zombie and see what happens?"

"Woah…aren't you a smart one," Richard mockingly replied. "Yes, that's the plan. We've been trying to understand this pill for a long time. It's properties, effects, everything. And given your history, you're the perfect candidate for this test. Do you really think we are going to take you seriously and let you go, Boss? Not on my watch. People like you in this apocalypse shouldn't exist. Doctors, you may proceed to feed 'the Boss' the pill."

The team of doctors approached the restrained Boss with the pill in hand. One of them held a glass of water, while another held the pill between a pair of tweezers.

The Boss struggled, his eyes darting around the room, looking for an escape, even though he knew it was futile. "You can't do this to me! Don't you dare come close to me! I'll kill you! I'll kill you—argh…"

The doctors forcefully opened the Boss's mouth and quickly placed the pill on his tongue. One of them held his nose shut, compelling him to swallow in order to breathe. After a few seconds of resistance, the Boss gulped down the pill. He glared at Richard and the doctors with pure anger, his chest heaving heavily.

Richard watched intently, noting the immediate changes in the Boss's demeanor. "Now, we observe. Every reaction, every change. It's all data for us."

A few minutes passed, but for the Boss, it felt like hours. He began to feel warm, his heart rate increased, and his vision became distorted. Sweat formed on his brow, and his breathing became more rapid. The doctors around him began to take notes, monitoring his vitals and discussing their observations.

The Boss tried to focus, to understand what was happening to him, but the sensation was overwhelming. "What did you... do to me?" he managed to croak out, his voice weak and shaky.

Richard leaned in, observing the Boss closely. "Just relax and let the process take its course—"

Richard trailed off as he noticed the skin of the Boss turning pinkish, muscles bulging, veins protruding abnormally. Dark spots began to appear on his skin, spreading quickly. The transformation was grotesque. His eyes, once human, now resembled those of a wild animal, yellow with slits for pupils. His teeth began to elongate, becoming sharp and jagged. The room filled with the sound of bones cracking and reshaping.

"Shit—" Richard cursed to himself.