Watchtower, Tank, Helicopter

September 19th. Leon didn't schedule any work for himself.

He put on a casual shirt and jeans and headed to the construction site of the outer wall outside the base.

Everyone he passed along the way bowed their heads in greeting, and Leon responded politely each time, careful not to come across as an aloof leader.

Among the working crowd, he spotted many familiar faces—Morales, Morgan, survivors from the Chemical Plant, captured prisoners, and even some underage boys and girls who had come to help, carrying small items, cleaning up, and earning a bit of pocket money.

The project had been underway for over half a month. Leon looked up and saw a steel wall stretching more than two thousand meters standing there. Occasionally, zombies from outside would lunge at the wall, howling aimlessly, only to be swiftly dealt with by nearby warriors using daggers.

After inspecting the wall, Leon headed toward the upscale hotel, which now served as the camp for Colonel William and his troops.

Though the middle-aged officer and his men had joined Umbrella Corporation, Leon, considering issues of authority and coordination, hadn't split them up or integrated them into the three Combat Squads.

These soldiers had all received professional military training at academies—scouts, artillerymen, tankers, signalers, and gunners—forming a complete combat system.

Using them against mindless zombies felt like overkill. Leon decided that at some point in the future, he would expand and reorganize them into a dedicated violent force for dealing with human enemies.

When he reached the hotel, he saw Colonel William holding a radio and giving orders.

Spotting Leon, the middle-aged officer said a few brief words into the radio and put it away.

He then strode quickly to Leon's side, saluted respectfully, and called out:

"General, what are your orders?"

This old-school officer wasn't used to calling anyone "Boss." To accommodate his subordinate's feelings, Leon had let him choose this title.

"Colonel, what are you up to?"

Colonel William stood ramrod straight, his voice full of vigor:

"General, I previously applied to you to set up several defensive watchtowers around the base to monitor enemies within a ten-kilometer radius and prevent attacks. I'm now arranging for soldiers to pick suitable locations."

Leon nodded. As a commoner, he hadn't considered such specialized facilities, but he had indeed approved William's request.

"Good. You can apply to the Logistics Department for any materials you need. As long as it's within reason, I'll approve it quickly."

William saluted again and said:

"Yes, sir."

Just as he was about to leave, Leon remembered something and turned back to Colonel William:

"We still have too few tank drivers among the soldiers, and our Combat Squads will soon need tanks as standard equipment."

"Get ready. Before long, you'll need to set up a Tank Driving Training Class to train tankers long-term."

"Any problems?"

"None, General. I guarantee the mission will be completed."

After inspecting these two locations, Leon was about to head back into the base when he noticed the black armed helicopter parked on the square outside, covered in a layer of dust. An idea popped into his head.

He pulled out his communicator from his waist pouch, tuned it to Daryl's Squad's channel, and said:

"Hey, this is Leon Castor."

"Ms. Kevira, please respond if you receive."

A few seconds later, a pleasant female voice replied:

"Boss, what do you need? We're in the middle of killing zombies."

Leon didn't care about such trivial matters. He said flatly:

"Tell Daryl I'm requisitioning you for another mission. Come to my office and see me as soon as possible."

Half an hour later, Leon sat in his executive chair playing Diablo 2 when Kevira walked in, smelling faintly of sweat. She sauntered over to him casually, the scent of zombie blood and flesh lingering on her.

Before she could speak, Leon slapped her on the rear and said:

"You stink. Go take a shower in there first, then come out and talk to me."

Kevira narrowed her eyes, a smile curling at the corners of her mouth, her whole demeanor turning seductive. She said:

"Your little kitten isn't here? You dare let another woman shower here? Aren't you afraid she'll scratch you tonight?"

Without waiting for his reply, she casually grabbed the hem of her shirt and yanked it up, revealing skin as white and smooth as jade, covered only by two thin black undergarments.

She undid her ponytail, letting her blood-red hair sway gently, and walked lightly into the spacious, bright bathroom, tossing out a casual remark:

"Leon, I didn't bring a change of clothes. You don't expect me to come out naked, do you?"

An hour later, Leon brought Kevira to the helicopter. Pointing at the black armed chopper, he asked:

"You said you could fly a helicopter, right?"

"Can you handle this one?"

Kevira licked her lips, pressed herself against Leon, pulled the helicopter keys from his shirt pocket, and leaped lightly into the cockpit.

Leon followed, sitting in the co-pilot's seat, pulling the door shut. He watched as the girl inserted the key, flipped switches, and worked her hands and feet in a dizzying series of motions.

The helicopter's rotors began to spin with a loud whir.

Maybe because it had been idle for months without operation, the entire fuselage started shaking violently as the rotors turned.

That scared Leon, who valued his life above all else. Even if his body wasn't ordinary, he couldn't survive a fall from that height. He shouted:

"What the hell? Is this helicopter broken?"

Kevira, however, remained perfectly calm, a hint of mockery curling her lips as she said:

"This is perfectly normal. Hmph, I thought you weren't afraid of anything?"

Leon quickly buckled his seatbelt and grabbed the handle by the window, muttering through gritted teeth:

"Next time, even if you beg for mercy, I'll make you cry and call me Dad."

Kevira shrugged it off and made a face at him, then yanked back on the control stick with her whole body. Amid the whirring roar of the rotors, the helicopter slowly lifted into the sky.

Having lived two lives, this was still Leon's first time in a helicopter. As the aircraft climbed higher, the ground fell farther away, and the familiar buildings below shrank to specks. It felt as though they had slipped free from the chaos of the world, rising into a serene expanse of sky.

All around them were blue skies and white clouds, a gentle breeze and warm sunlight. Even if the human world had been destroyed, the sky remained as beautiful as ever, unchanging through the ages.

Kevira gripped the control stick and turned to ask him:

"Where do you want to go? There's not much fuel in this thing—twenty or thirty kilometers at most is the limit."

Leon leaned back in his seat, taking in the scenery, and replied:

"Let's head to the city center and take a look from above. See what Atlanta has become now."

Kevira shrugged indifferently, then suddenly thought of something and said:

"Next time, fill up the tank, and I'll take you to my villa. There's plenty of good stuff there—should come in handy for you."