From the second floor, Wagner watched the scene unfold, his expression complicated.
Lorenzo's skill and ruthlessness far exceeded his expectations.
This Italian arms-dealing mobster actually knew what he was doing.
While directing the defense, Lorenzo also noticed something strange about the walkers' assault.
They completely ignored the heavy fire door leading to the basement.
Not a single walker tried to break through it. The main body of the horde simply surged upward and deeper into the building.
Why?
Was it because the sound and scent of the living were stronger above?
Or… was someone deliberately guiding them?
The thought flashed through Wagner's mind, but he had no time to dwell on it. The battle demanded his full attention.
The fighting dragged on for nearly an hour.
Gunfire gradually thinned out, not because there were fewer walkers, but because the defenders were running out of ammunition, and their numbers were shrinking fast.
The local gang members were nearly wiped out.
Some were torn apart by walkers, some took their own lives in despair, others were killed by stray bullets. A handful of the more agile ones managed to slip through gaps in the horde and escape.
The hallways and rooms were piled with bodies, both human and walker. Thick blood soaked into the carpets and ran down the stairs.
Lorenzo's Italian bodyguards took losses as well. One was dragged into the horde, another hit in the shoulder by a stray bullet.
Wagner's team lost five men.
In the end, it was the sheer, endless mass of walkers that wore down the defenders' will and drained their ammunition.
The survivors were forced to abandon the second floor, retreating to the third and fourth floors, relying on the narrow stairwell and remaining ammo to make their last stand.
Lorenzo emptied his shotgun, casually tossed it aside, and took an MP5 from a bodyguard, continuing to fire in controlled bursts.
His suit was splattered with blood and brain matter, but he remained completely unharmed. The madness in his eyes only burned brighter.
Just as the defense was about to collapse completely, the pressure from the horde seemed to… weaken.
No.
It wasn't that there were fewer walkers.
It was that they seemed to have lost direction.
They still snarled and pushed forward on instinct, but the focused attacks on weak points had diminished, replaced by chaotic, aimless surging.
Wagner caught the change immediately.
He didn't know why, but it was a chance.
"Hold the line! They're losing coordination! Conserve ammo!" Wagner shouted, rallying what little morale remained.
Lorenzo also paused, breathing slightly heavier as he stared at the dense mass below. The aggression had clearly dropped.
He frowned.
He didn't understand it either, and the strangeness of it only fed both his irritation and his curiosity.
Who?
The question surfaced again in his mind.
Who orchestrated all of this?
The battle fell into a temporary stalemate.
The walkers couldn't break through to the upper floors, and the defenders lacked the strength to clear the remaining horde below.
Wagner leaned against the wall, swapping in his last magazine.
His eyes drifted toward the window.
Then he froze.
On the rooftop of a distant abandoned office building, he caught a glimpse of several figures.
At first, they looked like walkers.
But no… walkers didn't use binoculars.
Those were people.
Too far to see clearly, but their posture, the way they observed the battlefield… it was unmistakable.
Professional.
Not ordinary survivors.
A shocking yet unmistakable thought hit him.
This was deliberate.
That precise, ruthless method…
Could it be the same mysterious squad that ambushed the Knoxville gang before?
Had they come to take revenge before Wagner even had the chance to act?
But how were they controlling the walker horde?
Were they demons?
Wagner's heart skipped, his face turning grim.
If it really was them, then everything made sense.
Only a group with that level of firepower and skill could pull off something this insane.
He instinctively glanced toward Lorenzo, who was still staring at the sea of corpses below.
In the end, Wagner chose to remain silent.
If it was that group, it would be wiser not to make enemies of them.
After all, he had no personal grudge. He had only joined forces with this unstable Italian after the apocalypse.
...
Down in the basement,
more than twenty prisoners huddled together, pressed tightly against one another.
The terrifying sounds from above were gradually fading.
Their hearts were filled with fear… and a faint trace of hope.
They had no idea what had happened.
Only that the world above must have turned into hell.
And by sheer chance, thanks to the sturdy door and the walkers' indifference, they had survived. At least for now.
...
At the same time, as Calista's group precisely guided the walkers to Lorenzo's stronghold, another team was quietly approaching the Red Scarf Gang's weapons production line.
This strike team was led by Maya.
Alongside Jonathan, Thompson, Murphy, and Zhou, who were also under Rickson's command, Leah had sent Danny, Ethan, and Wells from her own unit.
Maya's muscles were tense, her expression colder than ever.
Just days ago, it was Lorenzo's men who ambushed their scouting team on the way to East Knoxville, leaving Hank severely wounded and Leon shot in the arm.
The two men who had fought beside her for years were still lying in the infirmary at Rock Fortress.
Today, she had volunteered for this mission.
For revenge.
The eight of them reached the designated observation point. The unnatural calm outside the factory confirmed that Calista's plan was working perfectly.
The heavy security that should have been there was gone.
Only two anxious lackeys remained, constantly glancing toward the distant sounds of gunfire and explosions, calling helplessly into their radios.
"Sounds like a full-on fight over there," Danny whispered as he monitored the chaotic radio chatter. "Most of the Red Scarf Gang got called back for reinforcements."
Maya observed through her binoculars, her voice cold.
"This is our chance. Move."
The order was given.
Death arrived without a sound.
Murphy and Zhou emerged from the shadows.
Two faint, almost inaudible clicks.
The guards at the entrance dropped without a sound and were quickly dragged into the darkness.
Danny and Ethan stayed outside to provide support.
Danny maintained communications, while Ethan took a high vantage point, covering the entrance.
The team moved swiftly into the factory.
Unlike before, the place was no longer heavily guarded. Instead, it felt chaotic and empty.
The weapons and ammunition production lines hadn't fully stopped, but no one was operating them.
The captive workers had no idea where their guards had gone.
A month of constant abuse and beatings had crushed any thought of resistance.
They could only watch in silence, their expressions numb and confused.
...
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