The man's body lay limp on the carpet, his head crushed, Sofia's pistol lying beside him. The silence that followed Thiago's shot wasn't just the absence of sound; it was a deafening void, filled with the distant growl of the city and the group's labored breathing. Lucas, Gabriel, and Sofia's faces were pale, their eyes wide, no longer just with horror, but with a cold understanding settling into their souls. Thiago's parents, his friends' parents, and Hiroshi's family were paralyzed, their expressions of disbelief and terror deepening by the second. The coldness and speed with which Thiago had taken a human life, a life that wasn't that of a monster, had torn away the last veil of innocence still covering their eyes.
Thiago, oblivious to the shock he had caused, never looked away from the body. His two Wilson Combat SFX9 pistols remained firmly in his hands, their laser sights lit, the red dots dancing on the wall, a constant reminder of his readiness and his relentless philosophy. He didn't wait for questions, didn't offer consolation. The lesson was brutal, and he would hammer it into their minds until it was etched with iron and fire.
"If you feel sorry, you die, just like that," Thiago said, his voice calm but filled with a chilling authority that cut through the air like a blade of ice. He wasn't apologizing. He was solidifying the new rule of the world. "Shoot first. It's better than being shot by your own gun, or being killed by someone who doesn't hesitate. This man... he tried to take Sofia's gun. He would have killed us. He would have killed you to survive. He was a threat. And in a world like this, we can't afford threats among us. We can't afford compassion for those who don't deserve it."
He paused, letting the words sink in, watching each person's reaction. His eyes, cold and unwavering, swept over each member of the group's face, conveying a brutal, undeniable truth. "The only ones I trust, the only ones who matter to me, are those with me in this top-floor suite. You. My family. My friends. The rest... the rest, I don't give a damn about their lives. They're a risk. And risks... risks are eliminated. It doesn't matter if they're zombies or humans. The rule is the same. Your survival is my only priority. And to achieve that, I will do whatever it takes. Without hesitation. Without remorse. You need to understand that. You need to accept that. Because if you don't, you won't survive."
Thiago raised one of the pistols in his hand, the laser dot dancing on the wall, and turned on the tactical flashlight, a bright beam cutting through the gloom. "And always use the weapon's flashlight and the laser sight. That way, you know exactly where you're aiming. There's no room for error. There's no room for hesitation. Every bullet counts. Every life... well, some lives count more than others."
The silence returned, heavier now, filled with the brutal truth of Thiago's words. The group's faces were pale, their minds struggling to reconcile the image of the Thiago they knew with the ruthless predator he had become. The innocence had drained from the room, replaced by the harsh reality of the apocalypse. They had seen hell outside, but now, hell had invaded their sanctuary, and the darkest face of humanity had revealed itself before their eyes. Thiago, the leader, the protector, had also become the executioner, and they knew that from that moment on, the line between good and evil would be blurred, and survival would be their only moral compass.
"Let's continue," Thiago said, his voice cutting through the silence, giving no time for the shock to sink in. He turned to the women in the group—Harumi, Akemi, and Yumi. "You ladies, go back upstairs. Unload everything you've collected so far into the suites. Organize your supplies. And come back to meet us here. We need more room in our backpacks. We'll be clearing almost this entire building today and the rest tomorrow. Each floor is a treasure trove of resources, but also a nest of dangers. We need to be quick and efficient."
The women, though visibly shaken by the scene they had just witnessed, nodded, their movements tense but obedient. They turned and began climbing the stairs, their footsteps echoing softly in the hallway, their backpacks, now empty, ready to be refilled with the spoils of the apocalypse. Their task was as vital as the men's, a lifeline that would ensure the group's sustainability.
Thiago, along with Lucas, Gabriel, Sofia, and the other men in the group, including his parents and the parents of his friends, continued clearing the 48th floor. With each door they opened, the tension increased. The smell of decay grew stronger, and the silence in the hallways became more oppressive. They encountered more zombies, some in groups, others hiding in bathrooms or closets. Thiago's team, though still fearful, began to move with more coordination, their movements more fluid, their shots more accurate. Lucas, Gabriel, and Sofia were honing their shooting skills, and Sofia moved with surprising agility, her SIG Sauer P320 pistol firing quickly and accurately, always aiming for the head.
But zombies weren't the only threat. With each floor they descended, the presence of other survivors became more evident. Distant screams, sounds of fighting, and occasionally, the sight of human figures moving stealthily through the corridors. The city was collapsing, and humanity, in its desperation, was showing its darkest side.
On one of the floors, the 47th, Thiago's team encountered a group of about ten people. They were men and women, some armed with makeshift knives, others with iron bars. Their eyes were wild, hungry, not for meat, but for power, for a chance to survive. They were ransacking rooms, their movements hurried and uncoordinated, but their intent was clear.
When they saw Thiago's group, with their firearms and tactical vests, their eyes widened. Not with fear, but with greed. In the blink of an eye, hesitation turned to aggression. One of the men, a large, muscular man with a rusty kitchen knife in his hand, shouted, "Guns! They have guns! Take their guns!"
The group of survivors surged forward, a pack of ravenous wolves, their eyes fixed on the pistols held by Lucas, Gabriel, and Sofia, and on Thiago's two pistols. This wasn't a zombie attack, but a human one. And it was just as dangerous.
Thiago acted with lightning speed. His two Wilson Combat SFX9 pistols rose in sync, their laser sights dancing across the attackers' faces. He didn't hesitate. There was no room for compassion. There was no time for negotiation. The lesson he had just taught Sofia resonated in his mind:Shoot first.
The shots, muffled by silencers, were rapid and accurate. Thiago aimed for heads, center of mass, anywhere he could quickly neutralize the threat. One man fell, then another, and another. Lucas and Gabriel, though still trembling, followed Thiago's example, their SIG Sauer P320 pistols firing with newfound determination. Sofia, with her pistol, aimed with surprising precision, her eyes fixed on the targets, Thiago's lesson etched in her mind.
The scene was brutal. Within seconds, the hallway was littered with bodies—not zombies, but humans. Ten people, who moments before had been alive, now lay on the ground, their lives ended by silent bullets. The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the heavy breathing of Thiago's group and the distant growl of the city.
Lucas, Gabriel, and Sofia's faces were pale, but this time, it wasn't just horror. There was a somber acceptance, an understanding of the harsh reality of Thiago's words. They had seen it with their own eyes. Not everyone was good at heart. Not everyone had their best interests at heart. And compassion, in a world like this, was a luxury they couldn't afford.
Thiago looked at the group, his eyes cold and unwavering. "I warned you," he said, his voice low but carrying an authority that was now unquestionable. "In a world like this, it's kill or be killed. And I choose to kill so that you may live." He gestured to the bodies. "Take their weapons. And their supplies. Don't waste anything."
The cleanup of the hotel continued, floor by floor. With each zombie killed, each crystal extracted, each supply gathered, each confrontation with other survivors, Thiago's team became more efficient, more brutal, more adapted to the new reality. The women returned, their backpacks empty, ready to gather more food and water, while the men advanced, cleaning the floors with relentless determination.
By the end of the day, two entire floors had been completely cleared and barricaded: the 49th and 48th. Over a hundred zombies had been slaughtered, their crystals, now in abundance, stored in bags. And the lesson about the brutality of survival, about the need to shoot first and show no mercy, had been burned into the minds of every member of the group. Night was falling over New York, but inside the hotel, a new order was being established, an order forged in chaos and the determination of a man who had lived through hell and returned to rewrite the future. They would be ready.