Apocalypse: Drop Your Corporate Attitude
1.2k Views · Ongoing · August
In my past life, when the apocalypse hit, I relied on my training as an ex-Special Forces soldier to escort a group of arrogant corporate executives safely to a military base, fighting tooth and nail the entire way.
Yet, just to steal the vital supplies I had risked my life to gather and trade them for special privileges, they locked me out of the escape route the moment a zombie horde closed in.
When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn. It was the third day of our office building being surrounded by the undead.
A military rescue armored vehicle was waiting right downstairs. However, these corporate "elites" merely sneered in disgust. Still clinging to their superiority, they arrogantly demanded to stay on the 36th floor to wait for a supposedly incoming "private helicopter to a tropical island"—a rescue that I knew didn't exist.
In my previous life, I had practically begged and dragged them onto that rescue vehicle, a decision that ultimately got me killed.
This time, I just let out a cold laugh, grabbed my backpack, and boarded the armored vehicle without a single backward glance.
The building's backup generators were about to die, and the ground-floor electronic doors were on the verge of failing. Without my protection, trapped on the top floor by tens of thousands of ravenous zombies... I can't wait to see how many days these big shots manage to survive this apocalypse!
Yet, just to steal the vital supplies I had risked my life to gather and trade them for special privileges, they locked me out of the escape route the moment a zombie horde closed in.
When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn. It was the third day of our office building being surrounded by the undead.
A military rescue armored vehicle was waiting right downstairs. However, these corporate "elites" merely sneered in disgust. Still clinging to their superiority, they arrogantly demanded to stay on the 36th floor to wait for a supposedly incoming "private helicopter to a tropical island"—a rescue that I knew didn't exist.
In my previous life, I had practically begged and dragged them onto that rescue vehicle, a decision that ultimately got me killed.
This time, I just let out a cold laugh, grabbed my backpack, and boarded the armored vehicle without a single backward glance.
The building's backup generators were about to die, and the ground-floor electronic doors were on the verge of failing. Without my protection, trapped on the top floor by tens of thousands of ravenous zombies... I can't wait to see how many days these big shots manage to survive this apocalypse!

















































