Apocalypse Shelter Administrator

Operation Commences

For the first time since the infection crisis, the tightly sealed door creaked open, and I slipped through.

[Follow the route displayed on your PDA.]

Artemis’s voice echoed through the communication device in my ear.

I now stood in the central facility area plaza—the same place I had observed from the control room balcony. Despite its name, “plaza” was a stretch. There were no fountains, benches, or grassy fields for idyllic picnics. As "facility area" suggests, it resembled more of a grim industrial complex, where materials and supplies were stored, assembled, and repaired.

Using the forklifts and trucks scattered about as cover, I maneuvered towards my first destination: the repair facility. I spotted movement in the distance. Their numbers were small, and they hadn’t noticed me yet. The emergency lockdown back then occurred late at night right after the infection, leaving only a few unfortunate night shift workers around.

The first thing I approached upon entering the repair facility was the fire alarm relay box.

“Artemis.”

[I’m listening.]

From here, the repair facility to the central region control room is at least a 400-meter trek through a maze of winding building interiors.

“Honestly, trying to break through without a map hack is suicide.”

[But using surveillance cameras is impossible.]

Artemis responded as expected. This is why, despite her prickliness, she’s a good conversation partner.

The moment I mentioned the term "map hack," she likely comprehended every nuance associated with it—its dictionary definition, the technical ins and outs, and the methods to counteract it. Everything. Even if she encountered someone babbling terms and concepts that were entirely new to her—though that's hardly likely—she’d still be able to hold her own and probably outclass them in the conversation.

Crack—

"Since the surveillance cameras are out of the question, what about the fire detectors? Can we somehow use them?"

I glanced at the ceiling and spotted at least three silver, fist-sized fire detectors within my line of sight.

"As you know, all fire detectors are linked through relay boxes installed at every point."

I pulled out a hacking tool to use it.

"And the detectors installed here are the latest model. Unlike the old ones that sat around waiting for toxic gas particles to drift into the sensor, these actively detect particles floating in the air."

If the old model is like a lazy spider web, the new one is like a radar.

The old model wouldn’t catch anything if some careless newbie lit a cigarette in a corner of the warehouse, stubbed it out carelessly, and left. Even if that butt got swept onto a stack of boxes by a breeze and set them on fire, the detector wouldn’t catch on until the whole pile was burning. By then, it’d be too late. The new model, however, would spot even a single puff from the newbie's cigarette. By the time they finish their smoke, they’d be staring at a warning message on their PDA and facing a foreman ready to rip them a new one.

“You understand what I’m getting at, right?”

[Programming complete.]@@novelbin@@

She didn’t just get it; she had already created the program on the spot. As the blue light of the hacking tool pierced the relay device, she continued her monologue.

[I have updated all the fire detectors to track and transmit particles emitted from the infected’s breath. Their positions will now be sent to your PDA in real-time.]

Movement started to appear on the mini-map displayed on the PDA strapped to my wrist.

[I have also marked confirmed infected as red dots and ambiguous ones as yellow. Stay alert.]

These detectors weren’t exactly built for this, so even this level of detection is more than I expected. I hadn't expected her to tailor it so precisely to my needs.

"Perfect. It’s more than enough. You did a great job, as always."

[Do you realize that ‘enough’ and ‘perfect’ are contradictory? My work only allows for perfection. The only regret is the detectors’ subpar performance.]

"Okay… Are there any survivors out there?"

[Based on the carbon dioxide levels, there are no living humans.]

"…"

After that, things went relatively smoothly. With only a few infected in the central area to begin with, I managed to avoid most of them. There were a few hiccups, though.

[Kill it.]

"Yes, ma’am."

The fire axe sliced through the air and came down hard.

Crunch—

The infected lying on the ground had its head split open. Just before the axe cleaved its forehead, it opened its eyes and glared at me. That was about all the resistance it could muster.

Even with its skull crushed and brain matter spilling out, its mouth kept moving, as if trying to chew on something. Perhaps it was mindlessly repeating the last command in its fading brain. Its segmented, insect-like mouthparts were at least 2-3 cm long. If one of those ever got a hold of me, it wouldn't just leave a scratch.

“To think those ambiguous yellow dots were just playing dead.”

[It's more accurate to say they were in a state of dormancy. There’s no food or potential hosts left here to infect.]

“So they were barely breathing, making particle detection unclear, huh?”

Though they're hardly breathing at all in their dormancy, it doesn’t take long for them to get back up and start causing trouble. I can't afford to let my guard down. If I find one nearby, I need to take it out right away. Luckily, every former soldier is a master at digging deep and smashing down. Especially since I served as a combat engineer officer for six years.

I continued to move, avoiding the active ones and only targeting empty spaces or those with dormant ones.

[There’s another one three meters to the right after you open the door ahead.]

Creak— Slice!

“I’m starting to like how this feels in my hands.”

[Keep that morale up.]

To boost my spirits, Artemis even added a kill count to my PDA.

As expected of a repair facility, there were barricades blocking passages and welded doors everywhere as a form of resistance. Most of these, though, had been broken or breached by the infected, making entry possible. Clearing the few intact barriers was no challenge either.

[Step back.]

Artemis controlled forklifts and loader cranes through hacking to clear the way. The meticulous adjustments of the forklift’s movements, accounting for the weight and angle of the barricade materials, were impressive. It felt like watching a surgical operation with a wrench. Despite pulling apart tangled metal sheets, pallets, and lockers, there was almost no noise.

The welded door was my task, but it was a piece of cake. Especially since, in a repair facility, cutters were lying around everywhere. I stripped open the cutter case, made a few tweaks, and put it into an overclocked state to deliver much stronger cutting power than usual.

Sure, this will wreck the machine in no time, but who cares?

"This really takes me back to my active-duty days. I used to cut through all sorts of things."

[Weren’t you an officer? Isn’t that grunt work for soldiers?]

"Being an officer in the combat engineering corps also means being the most skilled technician in the unit. In real combat, finishing a task even one second faster can determine the survival of dozens, maybe even entire units."

In other words, you can't just stand back and say, ‘I'm an officer.'

"Besides, my specialty was facility capture."

[Facility capture. Specialty number 165. A specialized unit dedicated to hacking and seizing control of facilities managed by automated software.]

She rattled off the information as if reading a textbook.

"Exactly. Even though we were an elite unit, we were more of a sabotage-oriented special ops team than one for frontal combat."

The most skilled officers have no choice but to lead from the front. Unlike shooting, this isn't something just anyone can do. There were only two companies like ours in all of South Korea, the elite of the elite. I was the company commander. No wonder the high and mighty were so eager to hire me.

[According to your service record, you could have become a general by your 40s. Why change careers?]

"Continuing an honorable military career with a star on my shoulder and being revered sounds great. So when the scout first approached me, I thought of telling them off. ‘Are you trying to buy me with money? Are you insulting me?'"

[But the money was too tempting, wasn't it?]

"The offer was enormous. In the end, it became my life’s worth. Alright, done!" I set the door aside after cleanly cutting through the welded parts in record time.

[Not bad for something done with flesh clinging to a thin bone fragment. I’ll give you some praise.]

Hearing her rare compliment, I kept moving forward. There wasn’t much distance left to the central control room of the mid-facility zone.