Night Stalkers

A few hours later, the steelworks had returned to a semblance of normalcy. Besides a broken wall and a faint metallic scent of blood hanging in the air, there was little sign of the earlier violence. All the bodies had been removed, and most of the bloodstains scrubbed away, though the memory of the event lingered among the survivors.

On the second floor of the steel plant's office building, Zack looked down over the factory floor. The office, situated in the heart of the plant, had once been converted by Jacob into a personal den filled with food and luxuries. Zack had ordered the food to be redistributed among the workers, discarding anything that disgusted him. Now, the office was empty save for a few desks and his MV-01 armor, charging silently in the corner. While it charged, he'd restricted anyone from entering, ensuring his control over the area.

"Ego, report," Zack commanded, watching the workers below.

"Sir," Ego responded in his mechanical tone, "including family members, there are now seventeen survivors. Six of them are steelworkers, though one has since died from excessive blood loss."

Zack frowned, recalling the two workers who had been critically injured. "So, we're down to five workers who can operate the plant?"

"Yes, sir," Ego confirmed. "One sustained a severe injury and can no longer work."

"What about our steel reserves?" Zack asked.

"Materials are adequate, but power is expected to be cut off in six days."

"Only six days…" Zack's brows furrowed. Power was essential for industrial production. While he could manage with diesel generators for his Mansion, they would never suffice here. He knew he had to fast-track his plans for an energy source, like the Zero Point Reactor he'd been envisioning. But the material required is something he cannot get for now, his other option is to make Cold Fusion Reactor.

A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. Ego quickly identified the visitor. "Charles Grant, male, 76 years old. No weapons, no hostile intent."

"Come in," Zack called.

The door creaked open, and Charles stepped inside, looking a bit anxious. "Mr. Zack," he began with a respectful nod. "I've gathered the information you requested." He pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and began to read.

"There are seventeen people alive here now. Five of us are experienced steelworkers, including myself. Others have some familiarity with steel working. With training, they should be able to help in production." He hesitated, casting an uncertain glance at Zack. "There is…one more person. He's disabled but was an experienced worker before his injury."

Zack immediately understood. "I don't have extra resources for someone who can't contribute. He can stay if he teaches others. If not, he'll have to leave."

Charles's face fell, but he nodded. "Understood, sir. Thank you, Mr. Zack."

"Don't thank me just yet," Zack replied, his tone cool but clear. "Let's make something clear: I saved you because you have value. If you lose that value, you'll lose my protection too. You are here for your skills—nothing more." 

Charles listened attentively, his face resolute despite Zack's blunt words. In fact, Zack's honesty seemed to reassure him. "As long as we have the order, the furnace will be ready," Charles responded confidently.

"Good," Zack said, though he had his eye on another challenge: the nearby night stalkers. "For now, bring everyone together. I have some instructions to share."

Charles nodded and left to gather the others. Zack watched him go, a slight sense of respect growing in his mind. Despite his age and weakness, Charles had stood up to him earlier, unafraid to protect the girl, Annie. Zack respected courage, especially in situations like that.

As he prepared to meet the group, Zack donned his fully charged armor and headed downstairs. When he arrived, the workers and their families were assembled, their faces tired but hopeful.

"I spoke with Charles," he began, his voice amplified through the armor's speakers. "As I said before, if you make steel for me, I'll protect you. Food, water, and safety—all of it will be provided as long as you contribute."

A murmur of agreement rippled through the group. Some of the older workers voiced their gratitude aloud. "Thank you, Mr. Zack! We haven't had a full meal in so long!"

"Charles will handle the specifics with you. But there's something else we need to discuss." He paused, his expression growing serious. "Night Stalkers."

The word sent a ripple of fear through the crowd.

"Night Stalkers? You mean…vampires?" someone whispered, and the workers' faces paled. Memories of the eerie howls from the previous night resurfaced, filling them with dread.

"We were lucky last night," a worker said anxiously. "The Night stalkers didn't find us then, but after today's battle and the blood in the air, there's no way they'll miss us tonight!"

"Mr. Zack, shouldn't we just leave?" another suggested, fear evident in his voice.

Zack nodded, understanding their feeling. The Night Stalkers had likely caught wind of human survivors in the industrial zone. Today's bloody conflict would undoubtedly draw them in. But he had a different plan.

"Yes, the Night Stalkers are dangerous," he said, his gaze steady. "But I'm not planning on running."

Charles stepped forward, his face resolved. "Mr. Zack, whatever you need from us, we're ready to follow your orders."

The rest of the workers nodded in agreement. Zack's strength had given them a rare hope. If anyone could take on the Night Stalkers, it was him. 

"These creatures only come out at night. So, we still have a few hours to prepare. We're going to set up traps around the factory," Zack explained.

"Are…are you planning to take them all down?" someone stammered, awestruck by the thought.

"If we don't, there's no way to safely operate this factory," he replied, making his determination clear.

He held up a sheet of paper, passing it to Charles. "We'll split into two groups. One group will gather materials, and the other will set the traps according to these instructions. The details are here." 

Charles studied the plan, his eyes widening as he examined the intricately designed trap layouts. "These placements… This is genius!," he murmured, impressed by the effectiveness and precision of Zack's designs.

"Get moving," Zack ordered. The group quickly split up, each member hurrying to gather materials or start setting traps according to the diagram.

Meanwhile, Zack stayed busy himself. He knew that while the MV-01 armor was powerful, it had one major flaw—it lacked flexibility. Speed alone wouldn't be enough against the swift and unpredictable movements of the Night Stalkers. With this in mind, he decided to make some upgrades.

"Ego, scan the area for any materials I can use," he instructed, heading into the factory.

Within minutes, he gathered everything he needed. The industrial plant was a goldmine of supplies compared to the makeshift resources he'd used at his Mansion. As he worked, he sensed someone watching him from the shadows. Glancing over his shoulder, he noticed a small figure, her face dirty, her eyes swollen and red. Without turning fully, he spoke up. "Come on in. You'll need to learn this eventually."