Recruitment Team

July 7th. Time flowed like water, and in the blink of an eye, half a month had passed.

After a month of adjustments and improvements, the Umbrella Corporation's operations gradually fell into order. All departments performed their duties, the survivors divided their work clearly and cooperated with each other, and a hint of civilized society began to return to the organization.

Georgia, Interstate 83.

Glenn drove a modified Heavy Jeep along the road toward the Umbrella Base in Atlanta.

In the passenger seat sat a young girl with a cute face but a stern expression, clutching a black assault rifle tightly in her arms. She bit her lip, a trace of cynicism in her eyes.

The girl's name was Judy. She was one of the two abused girls from the Chemical Plant. After joining the Combat Squad of the Security Department, she proactively applied to transfer to the Recruitment Squad, aiming to root out those brutal Raiders and protect more good people.

Seeing the girl's firm resolve, Leon gave it some thought and agreed to her request. In this hopeless, dying world, a person's conviction was crucial—it often determined their ability to survive.

Glenn gripped the steering wheel, sneaking glances at Judy from time to time. After mulling it over, he couldn't help but speak up:

"Judy, don't worry. Boss is a good man. He'll definitely save that group of imprisoned Survivors."

"I'll put in a good word too."

Judy nodded heavily, looking at Glenn with gratitude and saying:

"Thank you, Glenn. You're really a good person."

"I know Mr. Castor is an upright leader. He'd never stand by and watch people die."

"I'm just so angry, and I can't wrap my head around it. Why, when a disaster like this strikes, do those damn bastards not think about uniting the survivors and helping each other, but instead commit such atrocities?"

"Aren't they afraid of going to hell when they die?"

Seeing the girl's expression turn fierce, Glenn let out a soft sigh and said:

"Maybe they think this is hell already."

Behind the Heavy Jeep, an armored RV followed. Andrea held a steaming cup of coffee, comforting a crying middle-aged white woman.

Over the past half month, the Recruitment Squad had been patrolling around Atlanta along Interstates 83 and 84.

At intervals, they placed large billboards and crates of supplies. The billboards detailed the Umbrella Corporation's noble ideals and recruitment guidelines, along with the coordinates and route to the already-cleared Maple Leaf Apartments.

After more than ten days of diligent setup and patrols, they had recruited a total of twelve survivors they'd encountered by chance for the base.

That morning, they'd found this middle-aged woman, covered in injuries, by the roadside.

Her name was Mera, also a local from Georgia. Her husband was the owner of a local Brewery. When the disaster struck, he took his family and the neighbors next door to hide in the Brewery, surviving on its supplies.

A week ago, they took in four wandering survivors traveling together. That very night, those survivors took them hostage and shot the neighbor's husband dead.

Not only that, but these wandering thugs assaulted both her and the neighbor's wife, held the children of both families as hostages, and forced all the adults to go out and scavenge for supplies every day. Any resistance was met with beatings and abuse.

Mera had been trying to find help for a long time, but only today did she run into Andrea and her group.

"Don't worry, Ms. Mera."

Andrea showed a kind smile, gently patting Mera's back and whispering comfort:

"I've already reported this to our Boss. He's sent a team to rescue your family, and they're on their way."

"Before long, you'll be out of danger with your family."

"Thank you so much, Ms. Andrea."

"Please thank your Boss for me."

The white woman took the hot coffee, tears streaming down her face as she expressed her gratitude.

Andrea nodded, turned to the middle-aged driver, and asked:

"Joel, how much farther to Outpost 3?"

The middle-aged driver, Joel, had a cigarette dangling from his lips and said calmly:

"About 3 kilometers. Ten minutes."

By the time Andrea's Recruitment Squad arrived at Outpost 3, three Medium Pickup Trucks fitted with armored steel plates were already waiting there.

Seeing them approach, nine heavily armed men stepped down from the pickups. At the front was Daryl, carrying an Alloy Composite Crossbow on his back. Behind him, Aji and T-Dog each led a three-man squad, standing silently.

The two groups met. Daryl swept a sharp gaze over the injured Mera, nodded at Andrea and Glenn without any pleasantries or small talk, and said in a slightly hoarse voice:

"Let's go. To the Brewery."

"The Boss said to take them alive if possible. What the base needs most are these convicts for hard labor."

Inside the Umbrella Base.

Leon sat at his own desk, eyes half-closed, while his little secretary Amy gently massaged his shoulders and reported on the base's operations.

"Boss, the 30 sets of High-Grade Apartments on the second floor are mostly finished. Each averages about 60 square meters. We're pricing them at 1,500 Contribution Points per month, utilities not included."

"Ten have been rented out so far, mostly by Security Department staff."

"The Ordinary Apartments on the second level of the Underground Parking Lot are under construction. We plan to build 100 units, each 40 square meters, with a two-month timeline. The price hasn't been set yet."

Leon nodded, thought for a moment, and asked:

"Isn't the parking lot 8 meters high? Should be enough for two floors of apartments, right?"

"Yes, Boss, we've already reserved space for the stairs, so we can add another floor if needed."

"Make sure the doors and windows are reinforced and install an alarm system. It has to be effective against zombie attacks. I don't want a large number of employees getting infected because of some accident." Leon instructed.

"Understood, Boss."

Amy fell silent for a few seconds, then asked with a hint of nervousness in her voice:

"Boss, for this operation, is it safe to send only Mr. Daryl's Combat Squad Two?"

Feeling the change in pressure as Amy kneaded his shoulders, Leon understood her concern. He pulled her into his arms, gently stroking her, his tone full of confidence in his men as he comforted her:

"Don't worry about your older sister. We outnumber them two to one, and our weapons are far better than their crappy pistols. Daryl, Glenn, and Aji are all skilled fighters."

"They'll capture those scumbags without a scratch and add a few more expendable laborers to our base."

Leon traced his finger lightly over Amy's red lips and asked with a smile:

"I heard you've been attending Rick's Shooting Training Class lately?"

Amy's eyes grew hazy as she stuck out her tongue and licked Leon's finger, saying:

"Yes, not just me—a lot of members from the Logistics Department have joined the Shooting Training Class too."

Leon teased her like a kitten.

"That's good. Don't we have an employee who used to be a Kindergarten Teacher? Get her to organize the kids at the base and set up a study group."

"Even in the apocalypse, our precious knowledge needs to be passed down. Otherwise, what future is there?"

"And seeing those brats running around every day is pretty annoying."