CHAPTER 70: MAKING IT LOOK LIKE I’M SCAVENGING

Nine o’clock in the morning, that was the reading on the watch he got from the electronics section of the building. He needed something that could tell the time when he was out venturing. After all, smartphones no longer worked in this world. Though they could still power on if charged, at best they were just fancy flashlights or storage boxes for old pictures.

He was on the loading dock of the supermarket, Murata standing not far from him.

"Listen, if you pull that stunt up again, there won’t be a second chance," Riku said in a threatening tone. His voice carried no hesitation—cold, sharp, like the steel he carried.

Murata lifted his palms slightly, a rare sign of surrender. "I won’t be stupid. You’re important for our survival after all. I won’t do that thing again." He pointed toward the upper wall where one of the bullet cameras had been mounted just the day before. "I’ll keep the door unlocked and watched from up there."

Though even without electricity, the CCTV could still work through the jury-rigged setup Riku had assembled. The UPS battery they scavenged yesterday was hooked into the DVR, giving it just enough juice to run the cameras for hours at a time. When the battery ran low, the little gas generator they pulled from the hardware section would recharge it. It wasn’t a permanent fix, but it was enough. Enough to keep an eye on the entrances without guessing.

Riku’s gaze lingered on the lens for a moment, then back on Murata. "Good. Then you know I’ll see everything when I get back."

Murata gave a short nod. "And if anything happens here while you’re gone, I’ll call you on the radio immediately."

Riku adjusted the strap of his M4 across his chest, feeling the familiar weight settle. He carried only what he needed: the carbine, his Glock at his thigh, two spare mags, the tomahawk clipped to his belt, and a small pack slung across his back with water and rations. No more, no less.

"Okay, I’ll leave now. I’ll see you soon," Riku said before leaving the supermarket.

After he left, he glanced over his shoulder and saw Murata closing the door. With that, he made his way to the open streets where a familiar scene greeted him.

Abandoned cars blocked the roads, their hoods popped open like mouths frozen mid-scream. Storefronts were nothing but shattered glass and stripped shelves. The corpses of zombies rotted in the gutters, bloated and buzzing with flies.

Riku took a breath and raised his hand. His fingers curled through the air like pulling a trigger, summoning the interface. The translucent panel bloomed before him, clean and sharp against the ruin.

[Inventory]

Rezvani Tank — Stored

He pressed the icon.

The air shimmered. A ripple of light carved reality open, and in the next blink, the beast stood before him. Matte black, angular, a predator crouched on wheels. The Rezvani’s armored shell drank the sunlight, glass glinting faintly. Its massive V8 engine rumbled alive with a low, steady growl, like a lion just woken from sleep.

Riku let out a slow whistle. "Worth every point."

He circled it once, hand brushing across reinforced panels. The night vision sensors blinked green on the dash camera; the run-flat tires looked thick enough to shrug off a minefield. His Maintenance skill thrummed in his head, filling in the details he didn’t consciously know, torque ratios, suspension tolerance, even the best way to swap the filters when the time came.

Climbing into the driver’s seat was like stepping into a cockpit. The leather creaked under his weight, the console lighting up in a soft red glow. He set the rifle across the passenger seat, Glock still holstered, then wrapped his hands around the wheel.

He turned the engine on.

The Rezvani growled deeper, a vibration that ran through the steering wheel and into his bones. Riku eased it out of the tight lane of abandoned cars and into the street, tires crunching over broken glass. The sound was sharp, but the SUV’s armor made him feel like he was sealed inside a fortress.

He drove forward, then made a slow turn, circling the block. It would look like he was heading somewhere. Off to a destination that only he knew. That was exactly what he wanted them to think.

Because the truth was, he didn’t need to go anywhere. His weapons weren’t hidden in some cache across the city. They were right here, in his system. But if he simply disappeared around the corner and came back loaded, questions would follow. Suspicion would fester. And Riku couldn’t afford that. Not now. Not when he needed them to trust the story of him scavenging and bringing the arsenal back.

So he made a show of it.

The Rezvani circled once, then twice. He slowed at intersections, craned his neck like he was scouting danger, all the while keeping one eye on the rearview mirror.

On the third pass, he veered toward an old department store. Its sign was half-torn, letters dangling like broken teeth. The lot beside it yawned empty, lined with rusting cars that hadn’t moved since the outbreak.

Perfect.

Riku swung the Rezvani into the lot, gravel crunching beneath its massive tires. He parked between two white vans.

This was the perfect spot for him. Now, before opening his system. He planned what weapons he should buy from it.

Well, definitely, they need assault rifles, machine guns, pistols, and some heavy weaponry like the RPG-7 or the M2 Browning. He knew from experience that there will be special infected that won’t be killed by small-arms. Should he just buy an M4 Carbine then? As for the machine gun, a FN Minimi or an M249 machine gun are the options he was considering. What’s easier to maintain or use? Wait, aren’t they the same model?

How many guns should he buy? Well, there are over 20 fighters in the group so 20 M4 Carbine? No, maybe a cheap gun would do like an MP5 that he purchased from the start of the apocalypse.

That’s it!

"Okay, let’s go shopping."