[ MC POV ]
_Atlanta, Georgia. Day Two. 5:35 AM. -
The first gray light of dawn crept over the ruined city.
I swung my legs off the bed and stepped into the bathroom. Cold water hit my face, waking me fully.
I dried off and changed into fresh clothes.
Stepping out, I spotted a tall man against the doorframe, arms crossed, a faint scar tracing his lip.
"Mornin', boss," he greeted, his voice carrying a rough Scottish lilt.
"You got the watch?" I asked.
He nodded. "Aye."
"And the others?"
"Still asleep," he said, pointing toward the other room.
I gave a simple nod and moved on. In the kitchen, I grabbed two cups and heated some water, starting a coffee.
Once ready, I walked over to him and handed him one of the cups. "Here. Take this."
He blinked, surprised. "Wait… fer me?"
"Aye. Ye'll need it," I said flatly.
"Ye sure?"
"Yeah. Careful with it."
He nodded gratefully, and we fell into a casual chat.
"Uh… Madara, is it?" he asked after a moment.
I nodded, taking a slow sip.
"I'm John MacLeod," he said, stretchin' out his hand.
I didn't respond. He hesitated, then rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.
"How's your shoulder?"
With a shrug, he rolled his left shoulder slowly. "Fine. Just a small twist. Nothin' serious."
"Good to know."
"Mind if Ah ask… where'd ye learn that?"
"Learn what?" I said flatly.
"Those moves… Ah've fought plenty, but never anyone like ye."
"Clan training," I replied.
He blinked. "Clan?"
"Yes," I said. "In our clan, children learn to fight and kill by five. Our land has never known peace. Survival demands striking down our enemies."
"Japan, right? I heard it's peaceful."
"Some parts are," I said. "Not all."
He paused. "So… you've killed before?"
"Yeah," I said flatly. "Too many to count."
He let out a low whistle, leaning against the wall. "Never guessed your life was so… harsh. In Scotland, kids grow up safe."
I took another sip. "So why become a mercenary?"
He chuckled, voice quiet but firm. "Long story. One day Pops found me, took me in… made me one of his sons. The rest is history."
I nodded slowly, letting it settle.
"And why call him Pops? Is he your dad?"
He shook his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Nah. Just out of respect. He looked after us when no one else would."
A quiet hum left me. Yes… the Russian version of Edward Newgate.
I stood, dusting off my pants. "When the others are up, let them eat first. Afterward, bring them to the rooftop — we'll have our first meeting there and go over today's task."
He tilted his head. "Not joining us for breakfast?"
I shook my head. "No. I'll prep the place… make sure the area's clear. A few walkers might've been overlooked."
He nodded. "Got it, boss. Take it easy out there."
I gave a brief nod and left.
On the rooftop, I went straight to work, inspecting every corner.
In the vents, a few walkers snarled, trapped. I drew a kunai and pierced their skulls.
One by one, I hauled them out and dumped the bodies over the edge. Fire would've been faster, but wasting chakra on scraps is pointless—and better to keep my power unseen.
Once the area was cleared, I set everything in place.
A table, several chairs, and a whiteboard at the front—ready for command.
The gang arrived shortly after, taking their seats one by one.
"Morning, kid," Svetlana said.
I gave a brief nod. "Morning."
The others greeted me too.
I nodded at them once, then addressed the group.
"Hope everyone had a good rest."
A broad-shouldered man with dark skin chuckled. "Yeah, brat… though these bruises don't make it easier."
"Sorry about that," I said flatly. "I'll be careful not to overdo it next time."
They all rolled their eyes.
"Anyway," I continued, "the reason I called you here is to plan our route. I've already shared my goal, so no need to repeat it."
I turned to the old man. "Do you have a map of Atlanta?"
He nodded and gestured to Isla, who handed it over. I thanked her, then spread the map across the table.
"Doctor," I asked, "can you point out where the CDC is?"
Edwin stood and pointed. "Here."
"So… six to eight miles from here?"
"Yeah, boss. Planning to head there?"
"Yes," I replied. "It seems like a good spot for a temporary camp—and a place to gather any survivors left in Atlanta."
I glanced at him. "How big is the CDC, and what's in there?"
He rubbed the back of his neck, pausing for a moment. "It's not very large. Just a few floors—labs, storage, some medical supplies, and a handful of secure areas for experiments. It was built for research, not long-term habitation. But… it's defensible."
"I see. Anything else we should know?"
He hesitated. "Yeah… the CDC can last only about two months. Generators run on limited fuel. When it's gone… systems fail—and it could explode."
A few muttered curses.
"Enough."
Silence fell.
"Doctor," I added, "what fuel runs the CDC?"
"Diesel," he said quietly. "Just regular diesel."
I nodded. "Good. That won't be an issue."
Vladimir frowned. "You sure about this, kid? That place… it has no walls."
"I'm sure, old man. Once we gather the rest of the materials, we'll fortify it. But this won't be our final camp—if we find a stronger base, we'll abandon the CDC."
He nodded slowly. "Alright. Let me and my men know when you have them."
I returned the nod. "So… anyone here familiar with Atlanta?"
A lean young man spoke up. "I do."
One of the others smirked. "Heh… and how come you know this place so well, Slade?"
Slade shrugged. "Dated a girl here once."
A few chuckles went around the group.
He cleared his throat. "Anyway, boss… what exactly do you need?"
I thought for a moment. "A spot where malls, hardware stores… all the usual supplies are clustered."
Slade leaned over the map, tracing a path. "Here, boss. That stretch—mall, hardware, some small shops. All close together, easy to secure or scavenge if needed."
I nodded. "What about the place you came from? Any rifles, meds, or gear still there?"
He hesitated, then nodded slowly. "Yeah… plenty of supplies—medicine, firearms, even military trucks. But I don't recommend going to the Carter Stadium, boss. Last time we were there, it was already overrun by the dead. Roughly 10–12 miles from here."
I tapped my finger on the map, weighing the risk—then made up my mind. "We go there today. Leaving all those supplies behind is pointless—they'll go to waste. We take everything, and maybe we'll find some survivors."
Silence fell. One by one, they nodded.
I continued. "I'll take five men to Carter Stadium. No one is forced… except you, Slade. You're my guide. The rest—four volunteers. Anyone?"
"I'll go," John said with a smirk. "Gotta pay back that coffee from this mornin'."
I nodded.
Idris raised a hand. "I'm in."
The others quickly followed.
"So, coming with me: Slade, John, Idris, Pierce, and Brick," I said.
They nodded.
Vladimir cleared his throat. "Kid… I hate to say it, but all our ammo's gone."
"I've got it covered," I said flatly.
I'd already duplicated the ammo yesterday and looted the rest from their vehicles.
He raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
"Alright," I said. "Those I've called, meet me at the entrance in one hour. Don't be late."
With that, I stepped away, leaving them to get ready.