“One... two... three... and finished.” Mr. Hendra’s voice sounded heavy, as if he had just pronounced a death sentence. He closed his stock inventory notebook with a listless *thud*, then massaged the bridge of his wrinkled nose. In the back storage room of Cosmo Mart, which now served as an emergency meeting room and bedroom, the morning atmosphere was grim. It contrasted sharply with the euphoria of eating luxury sardines yesterday afternoon. Sunlight streamed through a small vent, highlighting the dust floating in the air. “What do you mean, finished, sir?” Rico asked, picking a piece of leftover corned beef from his teeth with a toothpick. “I feel like there’s still a pile of instant noodle boxes in that corner?” “Those are instant noodles with Chicken Curry flavor whose packaging was punctured by rats or splashed with chemicals during the fig

The darkness inside the shophouse wasn't merely the absence of light; it was a thick blanket woven from dust, cobwebs, and a pungent ammonia odor. The smell of rat urine mixed with human sweat that had fermented for days created a hellish perfume that instantly made Elian's stomach churn. "Hold your breath," Elian whispered, activating his low-light vision mode. The world in Elian's eyes turned into a greenish monochrome. He could see dust particles floating in the air, disturbed by their movement. The boot prints on the dusty floor led straight to a double door at the end of the corridor—likely the main warehouse area where the snack stock was kept. "What is that smell, El?" Rico complained, covering his nose with his dirty sleeve. "It smells like a final-year college dorm room that hasn't been opened in ten years." "The smell of humans," Vara answered curtly. Her hand was already gripping the

The sky over East Jakarta at five in the morning was still a dirty gray, like mop water that hadn't been changed in a week. Bone-chilling cold mixed with the stench of stale diesel from the exhaust of an old truck that was being warmed up in the front yard of Darius’s headquarters. The sputtering diesel engine—*grok-grok-grok*—broke the morning silence, competing with the stifled sobs of twenty "volunteers" who were being forcibly herded toward the bed of an open-top truck. Elian stood on the shop-house terrace, sipping the remnants of cold instant coffee he had found in the pantry. His eyes sharply monitored the process of loading the people. "This isn't an expedition," muttered Rico, who stood beside him, wearing his black Bogo helmet again. "This is a cattle truck headed to the slaughterhouse." "Cattle that are going to be used as bait to distract the zombies," Vara corrected, ti

The aisles in the Central Logistics Warehouse seemed endless. Rows of ten-meter-high steel racks soared upward, creating artificial canyons whose walls were lined with thousands of logistics boxes. Pallets containing rice, instant noodles, cooking oil, and even baby diapers were arranged with eye-pleasing precision—or at least, eye-pleasing to Pak Hendra."It's beautiful..." Pak Hendra whispered, his hand lovingly stroking a cold steel rack pillar. His eyes were teary behind his safety glasses. "Look at the numbering system, Elian. A-102, B-205. This uses a perfect First-In-First-Out method. No goods will expire uselessly here.""Sir, please don't flirt with the warehouse shelves yet," Rico scolded, walking backward, his eyes vigilantly sweeping the darkness at the top of the racks. "I'm getting goosebumps. I have a bad feeling. Like something's been watching us.""Nonsense, you're paranoid," Pak Hendra scoffed, taking a marker from his pocket and checking

The "Death Expedition" convoy finally returned to Cosmo Mart as the sun began to dip west, casting a dramatic orange silhouette across the smoky Jakarta sky. Darius's Grand Max pickup and his Pajero SUV drove in tandem, followed by Rico's dirt bike pulling a cart (which was now full of sardine boxes, not Mr. Hendra). The mission was a huge material success. They brought home almost a ton of logistics: rice, oil, corned beef, sardines, and formula milk. But demographically, it was a disaster. "Park on the side! Don't block the main entrance!" Elian shouted, jumping off the back of the motorcycle. The Cosmo Mart's Tesla-Coil steel door slowly opened with a futuristic whirring sound. Lina greeted them at the threshold with a look of relief that quickly turned to horror. "Brother Elian... did you bring... an entire village?" Lina asked, her eyes wide as she saw dozens of people (the