A few hours ter, the steelworks had returo a sembnce of normalcy. Besides a broken wall and a faiallic st of blood hanging in the air, there was little sign of the earlier violence. All the bodies had been removed, and most of the bloodstains scrubbed away, though the memory of the event lingered among the survivors.

  On the sed floor of the steel pnt’s office building, Zack looked dowhe factory floor. The office, situated in the heart of the pnt, had once been verted by Jacob into a personal den filled with food and luxuries. Zack had ordered the food to be redistributed among the workers, discarding anything that disgusted him. Now, the office was empty save for a few desks and his MV-01 armor, charging silently in the er. While it charged, he’d restricted anyone from entering, ensuring his trol over the area.

  “Ego, report,” Zaanded, watg the workers below.

  “Sir,” Ego responded in his meical tone, “including family members, there are now seventeen survivors. Six of them are steelworkers, though one has since died from excessive blood loss.”

  Zack frowned, recalling the two workers who had been critically injured. “So, we’re down to five workers who operate the pnt?”

  “Yes, sir,” Ego firmed. “One sustained a severe injury and o longer work.”

  “What about our steel reserves?” Zack asked.

  “Materials are adequate, but power is expected to be cut off in six days.”

  “Only six days…” Zack’s brows furrowed. Power was essential for industrial produ. While he could mah diesel geors for his Mansion, they would never suffice here. He knew he had to fast-track his pns for an energy source, like the Zero Poior he’d been envisioning. But the material required is something he ot get for now, his other option is to make Cold Fusioor.

  A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. Ego quickly identified the visitor. “Charles Grant, male, 76 years old. No ons, no hostile i.”

  “e in,” Zack called.

  The door creaked open, and Charles stepped inside, looking a bit anxious. “Mr. Zack,” he began with a respectful nod. “I’ve gathered the information you requested.” He pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and began to read.

  “There are seventeen people alive here now. Five of us are experieeelworkers, including myself. Others have some familiarity with steel w. With training, they should be able to help in produ.” He hesitated, casting an uain g Zack. “There is…one more person. He’s disabled but was an experienced worker before his injury.”

  Zack immediately uood. “I don’t have extra resources for someone who ’t tribute. He stay if he teaches others. If not, he’ll have to leave.”

  Charles’s face fell, but he nodded. “Uood, sir. Thank you, Mr. Zack.”

  “Don’t thank me just yet,” Zack replied, his tone cool but clear. “Let’s make something clear: I saved you because you have value. If you lose that value, you’ll lose my prote too. You are here for your skills—nothing more.”

  Charles listetentively, his face resolute despite Zack’s blunt words. In fact, Zack’s hoy seemed to reassure him. “As long as we have the order, the furnace will be ready,” Charles responded fidently.

  “Good,” Zack said, though he had his eye on another challehe nearby night stalkers. “For now, bring everyoogether. I have some instrus to share.”

  Charles nodded ao gather the others. Zack watched him go, a slight sense of respect growing in his mind. Despite his age and weakness, Charles had stood up to him earlier, unafraid to protect the girl, Annie. Zack respected ce, especially in situations like that.

  As he prepared to meet the group, Zack donned his fully charged armor and headed downstairs. When he arrived, the workers and their families were assembled, their faces tired but hopeful.

  “I spoke with Charles,” he began, his voice amplified through the armor’s speakers. “As I said before, if you make steel for me, I’ll protect you. Food, water, and safety—all of it will be provided as long as you tribute.”

  A murmur of agreement rippled through the group. Some of the older workers voiced their gratitude aloud. “Thank you, Mr. Zack! We haven’t had a full meal in so long!”

  “Charles will hahe specifics with you. But there’s something else we o discuss.” He paused, his expression growing serious. “Night Stalkers.”

  The word sent a ripple of fear through the crowd.

  “Night Stalkers? You mean…vampires?” someone whispered, and the workers’ faces paled. Memories of the eerie howls from the previous night resurfaced, filling them with dread.

  “We were lucky st night,” a worker said anxiously. “The Night stalkers didn’t find us then, but after today’s battle and the blood in the air, there’s no way they’ll miss us tonight!”

  “Mr. Zack, shouldn’t we just leave?” angested, fear evident in his voice.

  Zaodded, uanding their feeling. The Night Stalkers had likely caught wind of human survivors in the industrial zooday’s bloody flict would undoubtedly draw them in. But he had a different pn.

  “Yes, the Night Stalkers are dangerous,” he said, his gaze steady. “But I’m not pnning on running.”

  Charles stepped forward, his face resolved. “Mr. Zack, whatever you need from us, we’re ready to follow your orders.”

  The rest of the workers nodded in agreement. Zack’s strength had given them a rare hope. If anyone could take on the Night Stalkers, it was him.

  “These creatures only e out at night. So, we still have a few hours to prepare. We’re going to set up traps around the factory,” Zack expined.

  “Are…are you pnning to take them all down?” someoammered, awestruck by the thought.

  “If we don’t, there’s no way to safely operate this factory,” he replied, making his determination clear.

  He held up a sheet of paper, passing it to Charles. “We’ll split into two groups. One group will gather materials, and the other will set the traps acc to these instrus. The details are here.”

  Charles studied the pn, his eyes widening as he examihe intricately desigrap youts. “These pts… This is genius!,” he murmured, impressed by the effectiveness and precision of Zack’s designs.

  “Get moving,” Zack ordered. The group quickly split up, each member hurrying to gather materials or start setting traps acc to the diagram.

  Meanwhile, Zack stayed busy himself. He khat while the MV-01 armor owerful, it had one major fw—it cked flexibility. Speed alone wouldn’t be enough against the swift and uable movements of the Night Stalkers. With this in mind, he decided to make some upgrades.

  “Ego, s the area for any materials I use,” he instructed, heading into the factory.

  Within minutes, he gathered everything he he industrial pnt was a goldmine of supplies pared to the makeshift resources he’d used at his Mansion. As he worked, he sensed someog him from the shadows. Gng over his shoulder, he noticed a small figure, her face dirty, her eyes swollen and red. Without turning fully, he spoke up. “e on in. You’ll o learn this eventually.”