I Have a Modern Weapon Gacha System in the Zombie Apocalypse-Chapter 5: Getting Out of the School

Adrian waited for the draw to finish. He’ll get ten rewards and he hoped that in those ten rewards, would be weapons.

The banging on the door continued, and it looked like it’s going to break in. He gritted his teeth, wanting the draw to finish.

And when it did, the ten rewards appeared to him.

[M240B General Purpose Machine Gun]

[5× 7.62×51mm Ammunition Belt — 200 Rounds Each]

[Mossberg 590A1 Pump-Action Shotgun]

[12-Gauge Slug Shells — Ammunition Pack]

[MRE Field Ration Kit ×10]

[Combat Medical Kit]

[Tactical Flashlight — Weapon Mount Compatible]

[Water Bottle — 1 Liter]

[Fragmentation Grenade ×4]

Looking at the rewards, Adrian’s eyes widened slightly. Machine guns and a shotgun? Not bad for a draw but those are loud weapons. Using it would definitely attract more zombies than he could kill. But does he really have a choice here? He doesn’t have the firepower to get through this.

He gritted his teeth again. "I have no choice."

He pulled the M240B General Purpose Machine Gun out from his inventory with the magazine already inserted.

He aimed it at the door that was about to break.

Without hesitation, he pulled the trigger and the classroom exploded with sound.

The M240B roared.

The recoil slammed into his shoulder like a hammer, but his stance held. The muzzle flash strobed the room in violent bursts of white. The door disintegrated in the first second, wood shredded, hinges ripped loose, fragments blown inward.

The zombies behind it took the full stream.

The first row snapped apart mid-step. Heads burst. Chests caved. Bodies folded and crashed into each other, turning the doorway into a collapsing wall of flesh and limbs.

He kept firing.

The belt rattled through the receiver in a metallic scream. Brass casings sprayed across the tile, bouncing and spinning around his boots. The smell of burnt powder filled the air.

More zombies forced forward, climbing over the fallen.

They ran straight into the stream.

Rounds punched through skulls and torsos in brutal succession. Each impact jerked bodies sideways, tearing holes through uniforms and bone. The pile at the entrance grew higher, a choking mound that slowed the ones behind.

Still they came.

Adrian leaned into the gun and held the trigger.

Notifications detonated across his vision.

[Infected Eliminated ×1]

[Infected Eliminated ×1]

[Infected Eliminated ×1]

They stacked too fast to follow.

The belt ran dry.

Click.

He released the trigger instantly. The sudden silence rang in his ears.

A zombie crawled over the mound, jaw snapping.

Adrian flipped the top cover open, slapped a fresh belt into the feed tray, and slammed it shut. Charging handle back, and release.

The gun roared again.

The crawler’s head vanished.

Two more zombies tried to squeeze through the doorway. The stream caught them center mass. They folded backward into the hall, knocking others down like dominos.

The pressure at the entrance weakened.

Bodies stopped piling forward.

The hallway beyond was littered with motionless shapes.

He used this opportunity to escape and left the classroom. From the windows along the hallways, he could see the zombies heading inside fast. He knew it, the machine gun was a double-edge sword but he still had more bullets. He’ll plow them with this.

His objective was to get out of the school and get to his parked motorcycle on foot.

At the stairways, Adrian could hear the sounds of the zombies approaching through their groans.

He aimed at the staircase and fired.

The M240B thundered down the stairwell.

The tight space amplified the sound into a physical force. The muzzle flash lit the concrete walls in rapid pulses. The first zombie climbing into view took the stream straight through the face. Its head snapped back and the body toppled, crashing into the ones below.

They kept climbing.

Adrian dragged the muzzle down a fraction.

Rounds tore through shoulders, necks, skulls. Each hit punched bodies backward into the stairwell, turning the steps into a collapsing pile of limbs. Zombies stumbled over the fallen, trying to claw upward, only to run into the next burst.

More and more zombies were being killed in the stairway to the point it’s unpassable.

He stopped firing moments later and searched for the emergency exit.

He scanned door signs as he jogged. 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

CLASSROOM. STORAGE. FACULTY.

There.

A red placard above a steel door.

EMERGENCY EXIT

He pushed it open with his shoulder.

A narrow service stairwell spiraled downward.

Good.

He stepped inside and pulled the door shut behind him. The sound dampened instantly. The emergency exit stairs lead to a secluded place of the school and so he descended down the stairs without encountering zombies.

He safely reached the door and opened it. Outside, he saw the setting sun, casting an orange glow on the school grounds.

The zombies are still going inside of the classroom, finding him.

Adrian made his way out of the school discreetly and vaulted off the wall and headed towards his motorcycle.

He reached his motorcycle soon.

The M240B hung heavy across his chest as he grabbed the handlebars. He swung a leg over the seat in one motion, and his fingers twitched the ignition.

The engine barked alive and made it out of the subdivision.

Moments later, the night had already descended on Quezon City. Street lights illuminated the streets with its orange glow, allowing him to navigate the roads of the city.

He knew venturing at night was dangerous and he needed a shelter soon. He doesn’t want to get cornered by a horde of zombies in the middle of the night.

He looked for a potential shelter, there were houses but their gates were high and couldn’t be broken in easily. There is a possibility that people may still be inside.

He looked for something that didn’t seem to have any occupants.

And then he saw it.

A convenience store sat on the corner ahead. There were no people inside, possibly abandoned by the crew. The parking lot in front of it was empty too.

In the zombie apocalypse, convenience stores such as that one were the target for the survivors to scavenge for food.

How lucky he was.

Without much thinking, Adrian parked his motorcycle in front of the parking lot and took the key with him. He entered with his M240B still in hand, sweeping his aim across the store, scanning for threats.

There was none, so he heaved a sigh of relief.

Adrian returned to the entrance and saw the roll-up shutter half-raised above the glass doors.

He grabbed the metal edge and pulled.

The roll-up screeched as it came down, loud enough to make his shoulders tense. He froze halfway, listening.

Nothing rushed the entrance.

He lowered it the rest of the way and locked it from the inside. The thin metal barrier wouldn’t stop a determined horde, but it would slow them. Seconds mattered.

His stomach growled.

Good thing that he was surrounded by a lot of food. He went to the chips section and grabbed a bag at random and tore it open with his teeth.

Adrian exhaled slowly and shoved a handful of chips into his mouth. Salt and oil hit his tongue. It felt strange to be eating something so normal after... everything.

He chewed fast.

But it wasn’t enough. He needed a meal, good thing there were some in display, selling fried chicken with rice. There are also nuggets, hotdogs, porkchops, et cetera.

It will spoil tomorrow, and there might not even be a chance he’ll be able to eat it in the future.

So he went behind the counter.

Adrian hesitated only a second before grabbing a paper tray. He piled food onto it, chicken first, then rice, then whatever else his hand landed on.

He leaned the M240B against the counter within arm’s reach and ate standing up.

The first bite nearly made him choke.

Hot grease and salt hit his tongue.

He leaned the M240B against the counter within arm’s reach and ate standing up.

The first bite nearly made him choke.

Hot grease and salt hit his tongue.

Still quiet.

He kept eating.

He went back for seconds. Then thirds.

The trays were half empty by the time he stopped.

His breathing steadied. The shaking in his hands faded.

Fuel restored.

Adrian washed his hands in the tiny sink behind the counter, the water running cold over sticky fingers. He wiped them on a paper towel and scanned the store again.

Then he noticed that he smelled bad after his sweat.

It hit him all at once, gunpowder, dried blood that wasn’t all his, old sweat baked into fabric. The day clung to him like a second skin.

He grimaced.

He slung the M240B back across his chest and moved deeper into the store, scanning as he went. Shelves. Freezers. Storage door in the rear.

He nudged it open with his boot.

Employee area.

A cramped hallway led to a tiny staff room and a restroom. He cleared both with the muzzle first, corners, behind doors, under tables.

Empty.

He stepped into the restroom and locked it behind him.

He set the machine gun within arm’s reach against the wall and turned the faucet.

Water sputtered... then flowed.

He stripped fast, ears tuned to every sound beyond the thin door. Shirt peeled away stiff with sweat. Pants and shoes followed.

Cold water slapped his skin.

He hissed through his teeth but didn’t stop. He splashed his face first, scrubbing hard. Dirt streaked into the basin. He worked his neck, arms, chest.

He grabbed paper towels and soaked them, wiping down his torso like a field wash. Armpits. Back. Legs as far as he could reach.

His skin prickled as circulation returned.

He checked himself for injuries next.

Bruises blooming purple. A shallow cut along his forearm. He rinsed it clean, patted it dry, and wrapped it with a clean cloth.

He rinsed the cloth once more, tied it snug, and flexed his fingers.

He stood there for a moment, bare skin cooling under the weak restroom light.

Nothing.

The store remained quiet.

He cracked the restroom door open, muzzle first, scanning the employee hallway again. Still clear. He stepped out, barefoot, the tile cold under his soles, and moved back toward the main aisle.

He needed clothes.

Convenience stores didn’t carry much, but this one had a small corner rack near the front, emergency wear, cheap shirts, shorts, socks, the kind commuters bought when they spilled something on themselves.

He spotted it immediately.

A metal rack stood crooked near the refrigerated drinks, plastic-wrapped bundles hanging from pegs. He approached slowly, rifle hanging across his chest, eyes still sweeping corners out of habit.

He thumbed through the plastic packs.

Cotton T-shirts. Plain colors.

Good enough.

He grabbed a dark gray shirt and tore the packaging open with his teeth. The fabric smelled faintly of plastic and warehouse dust. He pulled it over his head. The cotton settled against his skin.

Instant relief.

Next came shorts, simple athletic ones with an elastic waist. He stepped into them, adjusted the fit, and rolled his shoulders. Nothing snagged. Nothing restricted movement.

He dug out a pack of socks too, sat briefly on an overturned crate, and pulled them on. The padding felt almost luxurious after hours in sweat-soaked footwear. He slid his shoes back on and laced them tight.

He stood.

He felt better now.

Adrian checked his reflection in the dark glass of a fridge door. Clean shirt. Clean legs. No blood stains. No smell crawling up his nose.

He reached into his inventory and pulled out the Kevlar vest.

He lifted it over his head and guided his arms through.

The vest hugged his torso when he cinched the straps tight.

One tug.

Two.

Secure.

He exhaled slowly as the pressure distributed across his chest and shoulders.

He slung the M240B back into position, testing the shoulder mount against the vest.

He was now ready, but he couldn’t just leave this place without a plan. He only came here because of his little sister, but now that she is gone, there seems to be no place for him to go. He could go to his parents in Boracay island but how? He didn’t even call them because he thought they were safe there since it’s an island.

Well he could still try, they were his only family left. But for now, he’d stay here in the convenience store and spend the night.