Outdoor Goods Center

Leon felt a stir of surprise—the Trap Truck was working faster than he'd expected.

But soon enough, reality proved that even this trap wasn't invincible.

After a few more rounds of clearing Zombies, the motors in two of the truck trailers started malfunctioning, the chopping blades grinding to a halt, which slowed the Black Ant Convoy's efficiency considerably.

Still, the problem wasn't too severe. After another hour of cleanup, the rear door on one more truck failed to open and close automatically. By then, though, the vast majority of Zombies outside the Wex Outdoor Supply Center had been cleared, leaving only a few insignificant stragglers.

Leon spat out the stub of his cigar, snapped his fingers at his subordinates and the somewhat dazed Colonel William, then pulled an assault rifle from his own vehicle, ready to handle the rest manually.

Against scattered Zombies that couldn't form a real horde, human firearms worked just fine. Everyone who'd come along was a crack shot, and they swept through the remnants. Half an hour later, with Kevira leading the way, the group finally entered the Wex Outdoor Supply Center.

The moment they stepped inside, the first thing that caught their eyes was a wide array of outdoor camping gear. But out of caution, Leon didn't immediately go hunting for firearms. Instead, he led his men on a thorough sweep of the entire store for hazards.

What surprised him was that there weren't many Zombies here, and almost all of them were already dead. Clearly, some Survivors must have made it inside and cleared the place out.

Kevira smiled faintly, pointing at the display window glass. "That glass is bulletproof and reinforced—pretty sturdy. Maybe some Survivors got in here and then got trapped."

"It's been over three months since the apocalypse started. This is a hardware store—no water, no food. The people inside either died of thirst or starvation, or got eaten by Zombies when they tried to escape."

Leon nodded, agreeing with her assessment, but still led the team on a full inspection.

As expected, in a staff break room, he found five bodies that had committed suicide. They'd shoved pistols into their mouths in despair, blowing a large hole through the backs of their own skulls.

On a nearby table lay a note that looked like a suicide letter. Leon picked it up and skimmed it—it described their experiences after the disaster, along with their longing and regret for their families.

Since living people had been here, there probably weren't any major surprises left. After a comprehensive check of the premises, Leon and his men finally got to enter Zero-Cost Shopping Mode.

Back in the firearms section, Leon felt a surge of pleasure as he took in the countless guns lining the walls, cabinets, and shelves. Hands in his pockets, a cigar clamped between his teeth, he walked flanked by Colonel William and Kevira.

Both of them were firearms experts—one a military veteran, the other a wealthy hobbyist with a passion for guns. Faced with such a variety of weapons, they perked up and launched into a nonstop commentary, rattling off the origins, models, strengths, and weaknesses of each one.

Blah, blah, blah, blah.

Leon lost interest after a dozen or so. To him, guns were just tools—as long as they fired fast, hit hard, and shot straight, they were good enough.

So he turned his attention to the archery section nearby. There was a solid selection here too: compound bows, recurve bows, longbows, shortbows—seven or eight types—plus crossbows, compound crossbows, repeating crossbows, and a dozen more varieties. Leon felt a spark of excitement.

Kevira shared his interest. She took him through trying out each bow and crossbow, pointing out the pros and cons of every one.

That gave Leon an idea: he could form a unit of archers, like Daryl in the story. The biggest advantages were saving ammunition and staying stealthy.

Daryl roamed the apocalypse for over a decade with just his crossbow, never worrying about ammo and always able to take enemies by surprise. It was a solid weapon.

Soon enough, when the truck drivers and the 20-plus Warriors started hauling crates of guns, the trip was winding down. Over 30 people spent five hours sorting and loading before they'd stripped the outdoor supply center of all its goodies.

Leon did a rough tally: there were a lot of guns here. Fully automatic weapons and assault rifles totaled over a thousand. Semi-automatic rifles and double-barreled shotguns—the most common long guns in American households—came to nearly two thousand.

What really pleased Leon was that they'd also collected over a hundred sniper rifles of various models. Those were especially useful for taking out raiders and dealing with living enemies.

As for the weaker handguns, all models combined added up to over six thousand.

On top of that, Leon's convoy had picked up over a hundred bows and crossbows, several hundred machetes, field knives, daggers, a dozen sets of Army Combat Suits, and even more than twenty thermal imaging night-vision goggles.

The sheer variety of items even surprised Colonel William.

What Leon cared about most—ammunition—was also well addressed here. After all, guns could last ten or twenty years, but bullets only decreased with use.

From the Warehouse, they'd collected 400,000 rounds of rifle ammunition, 300,000 rounds of pistol ammunition, and over ten thousand arrows of various types.

The only thing Leon regretted was that gun stores in America were only allowed to sell light weapons.

If only he could have found some rocket launchers, RPGs, grenades, landmines, or howitzers—that would have been something.

They worked until dusk before all the treasures were fully loaded.

Leon didn't waste any time. He immediately ordered the convoy to head home. He didn't want to travel in the dark. He handed the driver's seat to Kevira, who was still full of energy, and leaned back into the leather seat, closing his eyes for a nap.

The trip was uneventful. By the time the sky was fully dark, the convoy had entered the Umbrella Base's perimeter. Seeing the lights inside the base, Leon felt a bit dazed—this was probably the only human light under the stars in this whole area.

Once inside, he handed off the task of processing the spoils to the logistics staff, then waved at his tired subordinates. "Everyone did great today. Each of you gets 1,500 Contribution Points. Go home, take a shower. Dinner's on me tonight—don't hold back, eat as much as you want."

The Warriors let out a joyful cheer, shouting:

"Boss is generous!"

"Long live the boss!"

"Boss, I love you!"

Leon smiled and acknowledged each cheer. He turned to Kevira beside him. "You did a lot this time. I'll waive 5,000 Contribution Points of your debt. You still owe me 50,000."

The girl rolled her eyes. "Even if I lay in a hospital bed for two months, there's no way I spent that much. You black-hearted boss."

Leon gave an indifferent smile. "I saved your life, you know. Charging you only this much is already very merciful, don't you think?"

Kevira huffed a couple of times, then strode off on her long legs, leaving him with a beautiful silhouette.

Leon squinted, enjoying the view for a few seconds. When he saw Amy coming down the stairs, he smiled and walked over, giving his little assistant a hug and a kiss.

He hadn't done much during the day, but by night, he really missed Amy's blend of gentleness and playfulness.