Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse With My Military System

The four survivors followed the soldiers and complied with the soldier's instructions. They filled out the forms they were given, providing their names, previous addresses, occupations before the outbreak, and other essential information. They wrote down their details quickly, eager to finish the process.

Next, they were led to a designated area for the physical examination. They were instructed to remove their clothes for a thorough inspection to ensure they had no bites scratches or any signs of infection. One of the soldiers, trained for this specific task, examined each survivor meticulously.

Their bodies were a map of their struggles to survive - scars, and bruises, but no bites or scratches that indicated infection from the undead. 

The soldier tasked with the inspection was thorough, his eyes scrutinizing every inch of their skin. He was experienced, having done this many times before, and knew exactly what to look for. The inspection was systematic and devoid of emotion; every new entrant to the Oriental Camp had to go through the same procedure.

After the inspection, the survivors were allowed to dress. They were anxious, the intense scrutiny making them uncomfortable. But they understood the necessity of the process; a survivor's camp must be safe, and these measures ensured it remained so.

The soldier, satisfied with the inspection, noted down his observations on his clipboard. The survivors were clear, with no signs of infection, fit to proceed to the next step of the entry protocol.

They were then led towards a waiting area, where they would await further instructions. They waited there for thirty minutes, exchanging nervous glances at one another.

Then another ten minutes passed, and one of the soldiers approached them.

"This is going to be your identification within the Oriental," the soldier said, handing out a laminated card to each of them. The card bore their names, a unique identification number, and a recent photograph taken just a few minutes ago. "You will need to have this with you at all times."

The soldier who handed them the identification card handed them another small laminated card. 

"And this is where you'll stay. It's a condominium about five hundred meters from here," the soldier continued. "It has all the amenities, electricity, water, clothes, food, and a detailed map of the Oriental. "Tomorrow, you will be briefed about the rules and expectations for everyone living within the Oriental. Non-compliance is not an option. Is that clear?"

The survivors looked at each other, somewhat surprised. They hadn't expected to be provided with such accommodations, especially in this post-apocalyptic world.

The survivors nodded. 

"Okay, please follow me, we'll transport you to the condominium now," the soldier instructed. 

"Uhm sir," the driver named Emilio rose to his feet and spoke. "Is it possible for us to leave the Oriental…let's say for a later date?" 

"That—is not in our protocol," the soldier said thoughtfully. "To what purpose would you need to leave?"

Emilio hesitated for a moment, aware that he needed to tread carefully to avoid raising suspicions. "Just wanted to know," he replied casually, trying to mask any underlying concern in his voice. "In case there's something we need to retrieve from the outside, or... you know."

The soldier eyed Emilio for a moment, his gaze searching. The Oriental had strict protocols for soldiers leaving and entering to ensure the safety and security of all its residents. Every move was monitored, and every exit and entry was logged.

"Leaving the Oriental is highly discouraged," the soldier finally said, his stone stern. "We have everything you need here. There's no procedure for how residents can leave. But if it becomes necessary, it would involve a formal request and approval process. 

Emilio nodded in understanding, while internally noting the implied restrictions on their freedom.

The group then proceeded towards the M939 Trucks, waiting to transport them to their temporary residence. 

The survivors boarded the M939 trucks, which quickly navigated through the camp's clear roads. Unlike the world outside, there were no abandoned vehicles or signs of the outbreak's chaos. The area was well-maintained and showed no evidence of a zombie presence, making it look like an eerie ghost town. The survivors observed the silence and the absence of people, a stark contrast to the disorder they had become accustomed to. The drive concluded quickly, bringing them to the condominiums that showed minimal signs of wear, indicative of the camp's maintained safety and order.

"This is going to be our temporary residence?" Emilio asked with his neck craned out the truck's window, staring at the modern facade of the condominium.

"Temporary?" One of the soldiers chuckled lightly. "No, this is permanent."

They were escorted inside, past the lobby that still retained a semblance of its pre-apocalyptic elegance. The elevator hummed softly as it carried them to the forty-fifth floor.

As they exited the elevator, they were led down a hallway to a unit at the far end. The door swung open, revealing a spacious, well-appointed condominium that looked untouched by the chaos of the outside world. It was clean and orderly.

There were two beds, each neatly made with crisp, clean sheets. The dining table was set with bottled water and packets of biscuits – simple nourishments yet they felt like luxuries to the weary survivors. The air was clean and fresh, free of the stifling, decayed atmosphere that pervaded the world beyond the Oriental's walls.

The survivors were taken aback. In the world they had come from, cleanliness was a luxury and safety a fleeting, elusive concept. Yet, here, within these walls, it seemed a semblance of the old world – orderly, clean, safe – still existed.

"It's...clean," Emilio murmured, his voice echoing the disbelief apparent on the faces of his companions.

"Yes, we maintain order here. You'll find all the amenities and provisions you need," the soldier confirmed. "Get some rest. You'll be briefed on the protocols and expectations tomorrow. And if you need anything, just dial the number on the phone by the bedside. Someone will attend to your needs."

The soldier made his way to the door, pausing for a moment before exiting. "Welcome to the Oriental. Rest up; tomorrow is a new day."

The door closed behind him, leaving the survivors in silence.

They explored the rooms, noting the functional kitchen, the modern bathroom, and the view of the Oriental from the window. One of them opened the aircon, and to his surprise, it worked, filling the room with cool air, another luxury they hadn't experienced for a long time. 

Another one of them jumped on the bed, feeling the softness and bounciness that had become foreign to them. 

"They're treating us like guests," Renato said as he lay comfortably on the bed.

"True, this is better than the ones we had in our camp," Juan observed as he grabbed a bottle of water and gulped down the contents. 

"Look! The water heater is working!" Mateo announced enthusiastically. "This place is heaven!" 

"Don't forget the reason why we are all here," Emilio reminded, remaining aloof to the comfort around them. The change in his demeanor prompted a quietude that fell over the group. "Remember, we're here to gather intel, not to enjoy these comforts.

"Fuck that mission," Juan said sharply. "If we can live a better life inside this camp, then why should we risk everything? Have you forgotten the horrors outside these walls?"

"I'm with Juan here. I mean, compared to our standards of living in the World's Resort Manila where we slept on the floor while those privileged haughty pricks got to stay in luxurious rooms. Yeah, I won't hesitate to defect here."

Emilio didn't falter as he recalled the exchange between him and his boss.

***

Three days earlier, at the World's Resort Manila. Hilton Manila. At one of the penthouses, Emilio waited behind a door.

Inside, he could hear the moans of women inside, as they were having a sexy time with the boss. He couldn't help but feel envy that the boss got to live such a life. Well, he knew that if he were to do something that would bring huge benefits to the camp, he might be rewarded with such a luxurious lifestyle. Suddenly, the door opened, and the boss, a middle-aged man with a burly build and piercing eyes, walked out with a satisfied smile on his face.

"Come in, Emilio," his boss beckoned and Emilio promptly entered the room. He glanced around the room and saw ten beautiful women, most of them former receptionists, models, and even actresses lying on the floor, panting heavily.

Some were satisfied while others were horrified as they were violated. 

"Don't stare at my women," The boss who noticed Emilio's stare snapped. Emilio quickly averted his gaze. The boss continued, "They are my property and mine alone."

Emilio nodded, trying to suppress the mix of revulsion and envy he felt. The boss then elaborated on the mission. 

"One of my scouts located a potential camp in Makati. I want you to go there, and find out everything. How many are they, what forces do they have, their weaknesses, and everything that we can use to exploit? Once you do, report back to me. If I find that camp worthy, we will raid it." 

"Yes sir!" 

"Now get out. I still have two women that I need to satisfy."