Demon Lord's Reincarnation

To give a general idea of what this other connecting station—EDSA Station—looked like, it was almost the same as D. Jose station though it didn't have a second floor where a small-ish strip mall was located. The platforms where the railway was bisecting them were the same as all the other platforms but the inside of the connecting passage towards Taft Avenue Station was a tad wider and longer.

It was because the EDSA Station and Taft Avenue Station weren't as far compared to the last one—and it was just a girthy motherfucker compared to a balloon that was only inflated on both ends, causing it to have this thin strip in the middle, representing the bridge.

Still, it was jam-packed and even kind of overloaded because aside from the stairs to get to the platforms, everything else was filled with deadheads on stand-by as if they would win a million dollars if they were the last one to leave the station.

However, the real story was that these few thousand rotheads were just territorial as if they'd pissed on the whole thing and marked it as their territory because anything besides their kind goes in their seclusion zone would get mauled to death. It was the weirdest recruitment process I've seen to date so it was time to put a stop to it by making use of Project Hokey Pokey.

It was basically the fucking song:

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"We put one fucking foot in, we put one fucking foot out, put down anything that follows, and then we throw them overboard~ We shoot them, poke them, kill them, or we rip them all apart, that's what it's all about~"

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[Someone stop him, please.]

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[Kinda liked it, actually.]

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[You're the last person I thought that would side with him, Brownie!]

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[C'mon! It's pretty catchy, right?]

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[Not you too, Megan…]

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"Alright, I'm done fucking around. Fucking focus up. This still might be considered as coddling as per the Mayor's new dumbass shit principle but the leash is off. I fucking hate that one of you gotta die before I can swoop in and save your sorry asses but do know you fucks still have each other. Watch each other's back and retreat appropriately because you're not like me.

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[Wut?/Hold up?/Excuse me?/Nani the fuck?/…]

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"Yeah, I fucking said it. I'm awesome as fuck and you fucks could barely last a second against me. And the only way you could get close to a fraction of my 1% is if you fucks survive. You can't train your asses off if you're fucking dead. Get it? So fucking survival is key here, fuck the mission.

I mean— same thing, right? You can't accomplish the mission if you're dead unless the mission is to specifically die. So yeah, don't die unless said otherwise."

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[HAH!/ PFFT!/ FUCK YOU! RESPECTFULLY!/ There he goes again…/ Now I'm fired up! Nice speech, bro!]

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As I was messing around with my dogs, Iskoh's new generation of young adults were a little surprised/confused/envious of my relationship with my group because it seemed like they were being fed to the wolves or being tested for their worth. Still, while I act like an overprotective mother, I would also love to see how far my group could go when shit hits the fan.

Losing someone could've tempered or broken anyone in their group but let's just be a little realistic here, 90% of the fucking population had already disappeared, and we can't fucking afford to use people as fuel for a budding star's tragic backstory—and there were plenty of fucking ways to cultivate a one-man army.

But yeah, enough with my fucking thoughts, because the moment Aaron's vanguard stepped foot onto the stairs leading to the train's platforms, we could clearly see how the undead community inside sent some of their brethren to take care of the invaders but they were met with a shotgun blast or an axe to the face.

Aside from them being territorial, they kept sending a handful up to a dozen of deadheads down to handle their problem—and the only time they'd send reinforcements was when the last batch they'd sent were wiped out.

'Hmmm…'

I was seeing what was going on from two separate tablets—one for this group and one for my dogs—and things were the same from both sides.

But yeah, while Aaron was in the middle of the pack and overseeing things from both the vanguards and the clean-up crew, JP was leading his pack while Tennyson was doing Aaron's thing of watching over everyone else.

JP was obviously leading the charge with the people he was more familiar with—but with me as their mentor, they would almost always opt for handheld weapons aside from sticks that go boom.

It was a little weird for me to say this but from my brief up-and-down look at Aaron and his crew, they seemed to have been using handheld weapons for the most part as well—and like dogs who were taken off their leash, excuse the repeating metaphor, they opted to use the guns provided for them as if this was their only chance.

If anything, the only time I've seen or heard them use their melee weapons was when chopping off a deadhead's limbs so they'd be rendered useless when a stitcher came by to pick them up—or for easy chucking to the fire later.

But yeah, it didn't take long before the undead community inside noticed the loss of their members so the handful to a dozen batches gradually increased.

And with the available staircases and the space they provided, the pace jumped up for a bit, but with the way everyone else was positioned made the small increase negligible.

It was because with Aaron's vanguard, aside from people making use of their shotguns, there were also people making use of riot shields to better funnel them into a position where they could throw them overboard, push them down the stairs, or paint the railings with bits of their brain or what's left of it.

This was something we only used to incorporate before because right now, the offensive capabilities of my group far exceeded the need for defensive measures because it'd be far easier and safer for us to put them down in a matter of seconds rather than to make use of maneuvers and defensive tactics to put us in a much better position for the killing blow.n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

However, one of Aaron's guys stood out from the pack and it was a dude who was holding his shield horizontally and was either kicking and breaking the knees of his targets inward or punching their heads open with his machete-like weapon with a pike at the end.

It was so funny and clever to me for some reason because 99% of the fucking time, the only thing we'd worry about deadheads were its hands and its head. So if we held our shields horizontally, it would open a lot of possibilities for a below-the-belt attack and using his boots against a frail knee-joint of this deadhead that couldn't even walk straight.

And more often than not, a deadhead losing its balance was already a death sentence for it—but I almost laughed my fucking ass off when a sprinter tried to divebomb this dude from the top of the stairs.

"LOOK OUT, JOE!"

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Without even changing his expression, this Joe dude stepped to the side and let gravity do its thing as the sprinter broke its skeletal system in several places when it hit the concrete floor. It would need more than Flex Tape to remedy its injuries but a pike to the head—that would come in less than three seconds—would need a god's intervention.

'Pfft… I like this guy…'

In any case, this was still the beginning of their assault—but it seemed like we wouldn't be expecting any deaths or even an injury. Well— It wasn't like I wanted to jinx it or anything but these few thousand deadheads weren't using their numbers advantage while our younger generation were making use of the environment despite the small numbers they were sending their way.

Because if I was an Undead Lord or Commander, zerg tactics would've been the way to go and feeling them the fuck out wouldn't do us any favors.

But yeah, it didn't take fucking long before the next batch of experience points for our trainees started to swan dive one after the other, and sidestepping like Joe did wouldn't work.

It was then that Aaron made his group retreat to the bend below—just to see what would happen next—but looking at my own little stars where the same thing happened to them, maybe five deadheads managed to dive down and destroy their formation, but everyone else that tried to follow after those five got gunned down before a couple of pipebombs got sent their way.

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[FIRE IN THE HOLE!!!]

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