As dusk settled over Mansion No. 9, Zack went downstairs for some food. Sophia was still resting upstairs, too exhausted to get up after the day’s events.

  “Ego,” he called.

  “Yes, sir?” The AI’s voice hummed back to life as Zack finished his meal.

  “Anything unusual around here?”

  “One moment… sing,” Ego replied, eg to a nearby satellite. “The area is secure, sir. The zombie is over a kilometer away, so you should be safe to sleep tonight.”

  “Good,” Zack replied, feeling a rare sense of relief.

  “Ego, pull up a list of materials,” he added. “I want to make some modifications to the escort vehicle.”

  As he walked toward the basement, a virtual map appeared before his eyes, marking several potential sources of the materials he needed. Grabbing his fully charged MV-01 armor, he exited through the garage.

  A short while ter, Zack returned, pushing a heavily loaded Land Rover packed with salvaged parts. On top, he’d banced a massive bulldozer bucket, making the vehicle appear even more formidable. The weight of his modifications had punctured the tires, causing sparks to fly as he dragged it back to the Mansion.

  Parking the Land Rover in the basement, he stripped off his armor arieved the escort vehicle, preparing it for the modifications.

  “Alright, let’s get to work.”

  With a determined sigh, Zack took a sip of water ao work, determio turn the vehicle into a fortress on wheels.

  As time passed, the escort vehicle transformed dramatically. Its once simple exterior turned into a beastly, armored mae, unreizable from its inal form. A sturdy pte was mounted on the front, perfect for clearing obstacles—or anything in its way. Thick yers of reinforced armor covered its body, and vicious spikes jutted out, ensuring no zombie could climb aboard. The tires were upgraded to run-ft models, able to withstand rough terrains and enemy attacks.

  To make things easier for MV-01 Armor, Zack modified the door, moving it from the back to the ter of the truck, repg it with a rger, double-door entrance. P this three-ton steel juggernaut was a six-der diesel engine from a Land Riving it unmatched horsepower. This was no longer just an escort vehicle—it was an unstoppable steel chariot, tailor-made for the apocalypse.

  After finalizing these modifications, Zaced at the time. "Holy crap, it's already midnight?" He blinked, surprised, realizing how te it had bee. The silence around him was eerie; there were no zombie roars in the night, and he felt oddly uled by the stillness. "ime I find some zombies, I should record their noises—might work as a lulby." He chuckled at his own joke, set down his welding gun, and made his stairs.

  The quiet was strange, almost remi of the peaceful times before the world fell apart. But just a dozen kilometers away, airely different se was unfolding.

  In the industrial zone, shadows darted through the darkness, their movements swift and silent. Silhouetted figures crept along factory rooftops, sing their surroundings as if searg for something. Their low, guttural growls echoed in the darkness, the distinct sounds of night stalkers, unig in their unique, unnerving way.

  In the northern part of the park, the steel pnt sat shrouded in darkness. Not a single light was on, and silence reigned, as if even the slightest sound could bring disaster. The workers iayed utterly still, the roars of the night stalkers ringing in their ears. Everyone knew something was off tonight; the night stalkers had not left the industrial park to hunt as usual. Instead, they prowled around, cirg the park in search of something unknown.

  The night dragged on until finally, the first rays of daw over the horizon, and the roars of the night stalkers faded. As sunlight bathed the factory, relief washed over the workers—they had survived anht. Just as they began to celebrate, a voice cut through the air.

  "Gather up! Boss Jacob has something to say!"

  The mere mention of Jacob’s name was enough to jolt the weary, exhausted crowd into a. Within moments, they assembled, some still groggy from the night’s tension. Soon, a t, bald man with a face marked by scars made his way to the front, carrying a bruised man with ease—the steel pnt’s director, Director Sean.

  “Husband!” a woman in the croed, her voice filled with as she saw Sean’s battered state. Realizing her slip, she quickly covered her mouth, but her eyes betrayed her worry. Beside her, a young boy with close-cropped hair tensed up, as if ready to charge forward. She grabbed his arm, holding him back.

  With a casual flick, Jacob tossed Director Sean onto the ground as if he were a rag doll. One of his ckeys handed him a towel, which he used to wipe the blood from his hands. "Did everyone hear what happe night?" Jacob’s cold gaze swept over the crowd. "The reason for this mess is that someone here exposed our position to the vampires.”

  A murmur of shock rippled through his followers, and several men gred daggers at Director Sean, fury evident in their eyes. They were loyal to Jacob, living off his scraps, indulging in food, drink, and fleeting pleasures. Now, someone had risked it all.

  “Boss, just say the word! Let’s end this traitht now!” one of his men snarled, brandishing a knife.

  “That’s right!” another chimed in, fists ched. “’t let him ruihing we’ve built!”

  The rest of the steel pnt workers lowered their heads, not daring to watch the violehat was about to unfold. They khe truth, but Jacob’s word was w. No one could oppose him.

  "Good." Jairked, pleased with his men’s loyalty and anger. It was exactly the rea he wanted. His authority, solidified even more. "kill him," he ordered, striding away toward his makeshift quarters in the factory’s office area, which he had verted into his private bedroom.

  With his approval, his ckeys’ eyes gleamed with dark satisfa as they approached Sean, knives in hand, eager to carry out their grim orders.

  “Jacob!” a trembling voice suddenly called out from the crowd.

  “Shut up if you value your life!” someone hissed nearby. “Think of your child, Anne!”

  But the womaermined, stepped forward. She looked at Jacob’s retreating figure, desperation in her voice. "Please, Jacob! For the sake of our past…!"

  Without a backward gnce, he tinued walking, ign her plea. But as she opened her mouth to call out again, one of his hen—eager to show his loyalty—spped her hard across the face.

  “Stupid woman! ’t you see Jacob isn’t ied in your whining?” he sneered, sileng her ond for all.

  The force of the sp nearly khe woman out.

  “Mom!” cried the short-haired child by her side. The voice, surprisingly clear and feminine, rang out, capturing everyone’s attention.

  Jacob halted mid-step, his men freezing in shock. Greedy eyes roamed the crowd, seeking the source. The steel pnt workers surged forward, f a protective circle around the girl. This short-haired child, who had hidden her identity until now, was their pride—a young genius they’d all e to respect. They couldn’t let these brutes ruin her.