Re: Apocalypse Game

Alan's guidance led them to the northeastern corner of the town, where a sprawling factory complex stood in close proximity to the bustling port. Emerging from the sewer's depths, Alan and Merle found themselves in a tense situation.

Their initial moments of emergence were disrupted as their eyes caught a group of Nazi soldiers moving with urgency across the vast complex. It took only a matter of minutes for Merle to grasp the dire reality—they were enshrouded by an overwhelming number of enemy soldiers. The compound seemed to teem with hundreds of them, a sea of gray uniforms and ominous purpose.

Alan's demeanor remained composed as he replied, "Just follow me and stay in the shadows."

The rationale behind Alan's decision to bring only the Crimson Gunner became apparent—their shared uncommon skill, [Sneak]. The Crimson Gunner had attained an advanced level, while Alan's proficiency was at the Expert level, boosted by his Superior item, the [Night Cloak]. With their extensive experience and skill, they maneuvered between the complex's buildings with stealth, until they reached a towering three-story structure.

"Let's enter this building," Alan suggested.

With the Crimson Gunner in the lead, his perception skills of a high C rank acting as their guide, they sought to assess the area. However, a challenge presented itself—there were no windows on the building's first floor, leaving the gunner to rely solely on his acute sense of hearing.

"I don't hear anything," the gunner reported, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

Recognizing the potential risks of relying solely on the gunner's hearing, Alan's decision was one of cautious thoroughness. In an effort to ensure the success of their mission, he opted to take an extra step by pressing his palm against the door—a move that left the gunner astounded and astonished.

With a faint, ethereal glow emanating from his arm, Alan activated a spell that caught the gunner off guard.

[Enhance Sense]

As the spell activated, Alan found his sense turn heighten to the point he can feel the space behind the door. The anticipation was palpable until Alan's quiet voice finally broke the silence.

"Yes, you are right, the building is empty," to Merle's astonishment, Alan casually opened the door, an act that defied any preconceptions about his capabilities.

"How on earth is a novice like you capable of using magic?" Merle's incredulity was evident in his words.

The revelation was indeed surprising, particularly for the gunner, who had witnessed firsthand Alan's aptitude for sneaking, shooting, and combat with a dagger. Alan addressed the question nonchalantly, as though it were an everyday occurrence.

"My spirit only E rank, pretty weak actually. It increases 30% of my perception at most"

The explanation didn't suffice to quench the gunner's curiosity, but the need for absolute quietude prevailed. Merle chose to suppress his inquiries, prioritizing the mission at hand.

As Alan assumed the lead once again, he made a strategic choice to maintain the active spell. The spell's effectiveness lay in its ability to transcend the limitations of normal senses, especially considering Alan's relatively low perception attribute. While the spell's power depended on his spirit attribute's level, it offered a unique advantage compared to skills with cooldowns. As long as Alan ensured a sufficient reserve of spirit points, he could keep the spell continually active.

Upon reaching the third floor and confirming its emptiness, Alan paused to check his attributes.

[Spirit Points: 42/60]

The utilization of the low-level spell had depleted 18 spirit points in a mere three minutes. Alan speculated that a period of around 15 minutes would be necessary for his spirit points to regenerate.

"What are we doing here!?" Merle asked again.

Ignoring the gunner's questioning gaze, Alan's steps led him to a window that framed the sprawling bay area of the town. Through the glass, the scene that unfolded before him was nothing short of staggering.

A dozen transport boats were docking at the port's edge, unleashing an ominous cargo of thousands of Nazi soldiers, armored vehicles, and trucks laden with crates. This assembly represented the formidable core of the enemy's invasion force—the very force poised to breach the city. The weight of the impending conflict hung heavily in the air; it was a certainty that players would be driven back or, worse yet, overwhelmed.

Merle's voice broke the silence, riddled with incredulity and apprehension. "You've got to be out of your mind, why are you bringing us here? What's your plan here?"

Alan's response was measured, his gaze locked on the unfolding scene below. "Wait... wait..." he murmured, his index finger rising to point toward a cluster of trucks. There were ten of them in total, each laden with wooden crates. As these trucks rumbled closer, the weight of Alan's intentions began to crystallize. The convoy, with unwavering determination, moved to deposit their load within the nearby warehouse building.

A subtle, triumphant smile tugged at the corner of Alan's lips. He turned to face Merle saying "You understand now?"

Merle's retort was muted by the sheer audacity of Alan's plan. It was evident that Alan intended to steal the enemy's supplies—a gambit that was audacious in its conception, yet brimming with potential rewards if executed with precision.

In his previous life, Alan had been well-versed in the enemy tactics—the timing of their arrival and the strategic locations of their arsenal. Snatching their supplies held implications far beyond arming their own faction of players; it struck at the core of the enemy's stockpile, a move that could considerably undermine their fighting prowess.

With a succinct explanation, Alan conveyed the foundation of his audacious scheme. After securing Merle's agreement—a testament to the extent of their trust—the duo meticulously surveyed the area. They marked the patrols, assessed the guards' watch patterns, determined the points of entry and exit, and developed exit strategies. Their preparations were meticulous, their every move a step towards a calculated gamble that could reshape the course of the conflict.

And as the shadows lengthened and the moon began its ascent, Alan and Merle slipped from their vantage point, retracing their steps back into the sewer.

Alan meticulously detailed his elaborate plan to the group. He leaned over a makeshift table, sketching a rudimentary map of the factory complex. His strokes were measured, each line carefully drawn to replicate the buildings, passages, and guard routes that composed their target area. With earnest focus, he allocated roles to each member, matching tasks with their strengths and skills. Even Merle, a seasoned survivor in his own right, was struck by Alan's strategic prowess.

Vicky's eyes widened with each explanation, her lips curling into an incredulous smile. "It's easy to understand, I guess you really are a teacher,"

As he wrapped up his comprehensive plan, Alan's "We wait for the opportune moment. Just before dusk, we'll set everything into motion."

Merle's pragmatic voice pierced the air, his concern evident. "Your plan's solid, Alan, but let's face it – against those numbers, how long can we really hold out? Their reinforcements will likely swarm in hundreds"

"You're correct" he acknowledged. "I'm estimating that, at most, we'll have around 15 minutes window"

Merle's skepticism persisted, his brows furrowing in thought. He countered, proposing that even 10 minutes might be an optimistic estimate given the overwhelming enemy presence. Yet before Merle's uncertainty could settle, Alan interjected with an air of subtle intrigue. "No need to fret. I've got another trick up my sleeve."

The enigmatic promise hung in the air, stirring a mix of curiosity and anticipation among the group. Alan's words were a reminder that beneath his strategic acumen lay an unexpected wellspring of resourcefulness.

Hours passed with a palpable mixture of patience and restlessness, the group biding their time in the shadowed recesses of the building. As the six-hour mark since their arrival came to pass, a simultaneous notification roused their attention:

[You Received Status: Hunger Level One]

Reacting to the notification, everyone retrieved their provisions, unsealing their rations and partaking in a meal. Despite their hunger's persistent murmur, none among them was in dire straits. Their stockpile of food remained adequate, a reassurance amid their mounting tensions.

The meal concluded Merle's impatience resurfaced, his restlessness evident. "It's a good time as any, we should start now!'

Alan's steady hand gestured for patience. "Hold on, let's wait for a bit more"

In the midst of these words, an unexpected event rippled through the air – the distant echoes of an explosion, muffled yet perceptible. The group's heads snapped in the direction of the sound, alarm evident in their expressions. "What's happening?" someone uttered in shared bewilderment.

Alan's calm demeanor prevailed "It's time" he announced calmly, his voice resonating with purpose. "Now, we move."