RTS System in the Apocalypse-Chapter 93: Reading Reports - III

Hans clenched his fist and hammered the table. He felt the threat of doom looming over his colony.

Although that giant zombie’s behavior anchored on the presence of a meteorite shard, who knows if it might mutate and alter its own behavior again?

"I should make preparations with my War Factory," Hans glanced at the quarter-completed construction queue. "Dmitri’s second journey has started earlier today. They should be fine for the moment."

His fingers eased and moved back to the report papers. He took a deep breath and flipped to the next page.

Dmitri described the appearance of Pandora District, the continued existence of those large footprints that headed north, and the broken wall section of the district’s entrance.

"Tyrus and Elias fought when they arrived?"

Hans was surprised. If that was the case, how did Elias manage to escape then?

His head drooped closer to the text, afraid to miss any details.

```

When my squad arrived at the scene, the HVT was no more. I was suspicious about Johannes’ behavior, but I had thought wrong.

His kick was used against him. It seems that our target is a skilled one indeed. And a superhuman at that, too.

```

That works?

Hans thought for a moment and shrugged. Many novels had shown even more ridiculous feats than this. He could only blame it on the bad luck that Johannes had on his kick.

He continued onto the next block of texts about Dmitri and Tyrus’s conversations.

Hans skipped to the next page and found another harrowing discovery.

"Superhumans aren’t completely immune to the infection," he muttered. "And when they turn, they gain the abilities of that superhuman and are far even more difficult to handle?"

Dmitri’s curses against the thrower zombie intrigued Hans.

His soldiers were composed most of the time, but to see Dmitri losing patience in the text meant that the situation they encountered was truly dire.

"So many specials now. How many more will turn out soon?"

Hans was confident he and his troops could handle the various specials, including one big giant zombie. All he needed was his troops, and the arsenal to handle situations against such specials.

Of course, if the zombies got to his troops before they could brace, that would be disastrous as well.

From Dmitri’s text, Ryan and Elise almost fell under the ambush of a transformed superhuman screamer. Furthermore, some of those transformed superhumans even made use of the terrain to their advantage, or to sneak through obstacles or lines of fire.

"Thankfully, I don’t have to micro all of this unlike in the game," Hans chuckled. "My troops will consider what’s better for them in real-time even if mishaps happen."

He could somewhat understand why Ryan and Elise got ambushed by the screamer, but it was nothing compared to some atrocious behavior of the AI’s pathing and targeting algorithm when he played the Red Alert game.

His eyes slid to the third folder on the table.

Tyrus’s notes, Project HELIX, and the three—no, four iterations of the said project.

The words alone felt like a different kind of danger and mystery; one that was quiet, technical, and the kind that didn’t show itself.

"Typical of a secret government project," Hans opened it anyway.

The first page was dense of text he couldn’t get a sense of.

Terms, iterations, project managers, those who were involved, observed effects, and handwritten marks on the margins as if the scientist argued with himself.

Hans read three lines. Then he stopped.

It wasn’t something he can really skim. He needed someone to tell him about it, and only Tyrus Shearman himself had the capability to do so.

"Damn, if only the system would have helped me with this one."

Hans scratched his head, frustrated about the unwillingness to assist him in understanding things.

As if the system noticed him, a new panel flickered.

[ Training completed: Missile Infantry x2, DASF Unit x1 ]

The panel faded.

Hans shifted his head towards the door entrance. Three presences outside his door, steady and controlled.

Three knocks came.

Hans opened the door.

Two soldiers stood first.

They were built as infantry, but their loadout made them look wider than a regular soldier.

Each carried a long, module launcher tube strapped across the shoulder, looking like a second spine.

The weapon was in no means cheap—it had clean segments, locking joints, and a compact sight module mounted on the side.

Thick shoulder braces hugged their uniform, reinforced at the collarbone and upper arm. They were made to absorb recoil and impact.

Their helmets had a dull visor strip, not for aesthetic reasons, but more for a HUD line that would feed lock-on data. Under the chin strap, their jawlines were tight.

Neither smiled nor curious. They were soldiers who knew what their job was.

On their backs were missile canisters arranged in a rigid frame. There were six slots, not all filled the same.

Some were thicker, some slimmer, each marked by a different band color and a small stencil label.

Hans didn’t need to read it to guess the idea. The experience of watching several military videos in both lives gave him subtle information about these missile ammunitions.

Anti-armor, anti-horde, and general-purpose high explosive blast missiles.

Their gloves were blast-resistant, knapsacks more compact than even a Scout’s. Even their boots looked heavier, demanding stability over speed.

The first type of infantry unlocked—Missile Infantry.

They were more of a walking platform than the Guardian GIs, but it was understandable.

Bigger firepower and high strategic value. Hans would even consider it a walking tank.

The two Missile Infantry units tightened their muscles and gave Hans a salute.

"Viktor Draven, reporting for duty, Commander."

"Markus Volker, on your command, Sir."

"At ease."

Hans returned their salutes. He inspected their equipment once more, satisfied of what he had seen.

"I will be depending on you two against our enemies from now on," he patted their shoulders. "I believe you will do well."

"We will give our best for the Commander!"