Zhang Xiaowen's visor projected detailed tutorials on pistol and grenade usage – synthesized from military databases the Cube had brazenly hacked during its atmospheric entry. She selected two Type 92 pistols (5.8mm variant) and donned a lightweight paper-composite bulletproof vest. Five loaded magazines adorned her tactical harness, with 400 reserve rounds stored in her backpack. The Cube welded a thigh holster using scavenged materials, transforming her into a makeshift SWAT operative.
"Gunshots attract hordes. Use sparingly – but don't hesitate when needed." The Cube perched on her backpack like a mechanical parrot, its targeting overlay painting red crosshairs across her vision.
Their first engagement came on the stairwell.
*Bang!*
Her opening shot cratered concrete. The second grazed a zombie's shoulder. The third punched through its jaw in a spray of black viscera. Spent brass *tinked* down the stairs as she breathed through the recoil.
Efficiency, human." The Cube tapped her helmet. Behind them, growls echoed – a shambling pursuit. Its left arm morphed into a micro-gun.
*Rat-tat!*
Two rounds dropped the lead zombie, creating a stumbling blockade of undead bodies. "My apologies for the inconvenience~" it mocked.
Reaching the top floor, Zhang holstered her weapon and climbed an exterior ladder under the blazing sun. Across the street, survivors pressed against windows – some waving white cloths, others filming with dying phones.
"Look! Special forces!"
"They'll save us!"
The Cube observed coldly: "They cower instead of fighting. Not worth the bullets."
Three sweltering hours later, they reached the freight station's roof. Below sat a monstrous armored truck – its V-shaped plow dented with zombie impacts, side panels welded with serrated steel blades.
"My humble Earthcraft," the Cube preened. "Primitive alloy work, but the engine barely tolerates the weight."
Zhang wiped sweat from her stinging eyes, staring at an ice cream shop overrun by rotting customers. "Can your 'humble Earthcraft' carry frozen treats?"
"Priorities, human. The school's rooftop helipad awaits – your first real battlefield."