©WebNovelPub
RTS System in the Apocalypse-Chapter 95: New Units - II
The apartment complex breathed in ease as time slowly passed by.
Sentries patrolled the entrance and its silent surroundings. The Sniper team switched overwatch duties with the two Missile Infantries. Callum stood proudly in the hallway of the seventh floor, still like a tree yet more wary than any soldier there with him.
His Commander, Hans, slept soundly on his comfy bed. It has been long since he has lay here. Even though the fabric was a little out of touch, it was better than sleeping on his colony’s personal room.
Despite this, sleep didn’t take him the same way it used to.
Even with his eyes closed, Hans could still feel the building’s shape. From the stairwell shafts, to the rooms lined like boxes, and the soft movement of his soldiers below.
His perception didn’t turn off, but kept going on as if it was a perpetual motion machine.
Somewhere outside, a bird screeched.
Callum didn’t move, but Hans sensed the moment Callum’s attention shifted toward the window several walls past.
A faint vibration rolled through the floor. Not enough to shake dust loose, but enough to be picked up by his senses.
Hans’s eyelids twitched. He opened his eyes slowly and stared at the ceiling.
"It’s morning already?" he muttered.
The system panel flickered into view on its own, as if it had been waiting for him to wake up.
------
[ War Factory (Virtual) construction has been completed. ]
[ You have unlocked the following units ]
[ Vanguard Main Battle Tank - 10000 Gold ]
[ Guardian APC - 8000 Gold ]
[ HMT-90 Hellhammer Artillery Tank - 18000 Gold ]
[ Field Support Vehicle - 4000 Gold ]
[ Mobile Construction Vehicle - 50000 Gold]
------
[ Warning: It is recommended to deploy the MCV into a Construction Yard to continue building additional structures! ]
------
Hans’s mouth curved slightly.
Finally, it’s here.
He sat up, the bed creaked as he stood. Outside the room, Callum’s head turned slightly.
Hans didn’t call out, nor did he need to. The DASF already knew his Commander was awake.
Hans swung his feet down, rolled his shoulders once, and let his breathing settle.
"System," he said quietly. "How will these things come out when they are trained?"
------
[ Enclosed facility recommended for vehicle storage and integrity. ]
[ If no valid structure is nearby, units will deploy at a safe location within proximity of the Commander. ]
------
"Sounds great," Hans grinned. "Let’s start with the first two then?"
He didn’t want to make a large mess with the artillery. Recalling the sights of those self-propelled howitzers, the size alone couldn’t compare to some main battle tanks.
Hans would rather save it for another day—when he has reason to do so.
"System, train one Vanguard and one Guardian APC."
His Gold value flickered for a moment, then he watched the numbers decrease.
------
[ Gold: 185,665 (-10000) -> 175,665 ]
[ Gold: 175,665 (-8000) -> 167,665 ]
------
[ 1x Vanguard MBT training queue started. ETA: 1 hour and 40 minutes. ]
[ 1x Guardian APC queued for training. ETA: 1 hour and 20 minutes. ]
------
"Good, let’s take a short breakfast then," Hans opened the door.
Callum was already there, carved into the hallway like a decoration.
"Commander," Callum greeted.
Hans nodded once.
"Time for breakfast. You might want to have a little rest."
Callum’s eyes flicked once toward the stairwell.
"No need, Commander. This is nothing."
Eh, what’s over there? Hans followed Callum’s head and noticed Kenji arriving with a food pack and a water bottle.
"Commander," Kenji carefully took his steps. "We have delivered these fresh from the colony. Miss Kimmy sends her dearest regards."
Hans nodded, gently grabbing the pack and the bottle.
"Tell her I received them well. I hope to see her again soon."
"I will deliver your message, Commander."
Kenji saluted then turned around. Callum didn’t mind this short interlude and continued standing like a log.
If not for the subtle rise and fall of his chest, Hans may have thought this guy was a zombie of some kind.
He already said he didn’t need it, Hans shrugged to himself. "I’ll be taking my breakfast then. You can take yours if you have time."
The door closed.
Inside, Hans tore the pack open, chewing while his mind stayed on the new list.
Vanguard. APC. Artillery. MCV.
And that one warning line that mattered more than the rest—Construction Yard.
Hans took another bite and swallowed.
"Construction Yard..." he muttered again.
He didn’t like vague requirements—that would get people confused, do stupid stuff, and even kill them.
A distant memory flashed—images of a large vehicle that stood several stories high and a background music that chilled his spine.
"If I can guess, these MCV should be large," he calculated. "Three, no, four floors high?"
He peeked over the window, swiveling his head left and right.
"Longer than your regular shipping truck—no, it’s even larger than those mega excavators I’ve seen."
Hans’s brows furrowed. If the system truly made an enormous giant MCV that weighed at least 10,000 tons, where could he even imagine to deploy that?
"System, where can I deploy this MCV?"
------
[ MCV Deployment area must have a sufficient surface load. ]
[ Required: Heavy-Lift Pad / Bedrock / Reinforced Industrial Slab / Airport Runways ]
------
Hans’s brows furrowed even deeper, as if the two hadn’t met for a long while.
"You’re telling me the area around isn’t good enough?"
------
[ Radar scan shows insufficient surface load within 5 kilometers of your position. ]
------
His mouth twitched, not even expecting that an MCV deployment would actually be this hard and strict to the core.
"Do you even want me to deploy my MCV at this rate?" Hans scratched his head in frustration. "Damn it, where can I even find a suitable ground?"
The fish port near the colony came to mind first—wide space, hard ground, and an open access.
Then Hans pictured it.
Steel treads grinding against each other. Hydraulic locks slamming into place. And an engine roar loud enough to shake gulls off rusted cranes.
The sound would roll across the water and bounce off concrete like a siren.
And Grefort City would answer in hostility. Not one horde nor ten. Instead, the whole dead city would start moving.
A hundred million of them at once.
Hans needed somewhere much more remote, but had the sufficient strength to handle such a requirement.
At that moment, a person’s name came into his mind—Roger Tancredi.
"He said he was an industrial worker, right? It should be that punching man. I will seek him after this."







