I Have a Modern Weapon Gacha System in the Zombie Apocalypse-Chapter 18: Heading to Okada

The helicopter veered toward the Okada Hotel.

Adrian and the Special Forces Operatives readied their weapons.

Adrian equipped himself with the latest weapons that he had received from the Gacha system, the FN SCAR-H assault rifle and the Glock 19 Gen 5 pistol.

While the Special Forces Operatives were equipped with HK416 assault rifles, a designated marksman rifle, and a Benelli M4 shotgun.

Ryan carried the designated marksman rifle. A longer barrel, optic already mounted. He checked the magnification once, then leaned toward the open side door, scanning the rooftops ahead.

Mason and Cole both ran HK416s. Suppressors mounted. Optics locked in place. They sat opposite each other, boots braced against the floor, rifles angled down but ready.

Ethan held the Benelli M4 across his lap. He thumbed the safety, then racked it once to confirm a round was chambered.

Jake and Noah also carried HK416s, each with extra magazines secured across their chest rigs. Jake leaned slightly toward the rear door, while Noah stayed near the front of the cabin, watching the skyline.

The door gunners remained focused outside, hands firm on the mounted M134s.

Below them, the city looked wrong.

Streetlights flickered in some areas. Others were completely dark. Vehicles were abandoned in random lanes. At major intersections, clusters of figures moved in uneven patterns.

Ryan tapped Adrian’s shoulder and pointed down.

Large groups.

Parking lots. Main entrances. The ground level around Okada was thick with movement. Even from this height, the density was clear.

"They’re packed near the front," Ryan said over the headset.

Adrian leaned forward slightly, eyes locked on the building.

The Okada Hotel rose ahead of them, lights still on in parts of the upper floors. The helipad was visible near the top, clear for now.

However,

"Sir, radar is picking up a bogey," the pilot informed.

"Where is it?"

"Bearing zero-eight-five," the pilot replied immediately. "Range eight hundred meters. Altitude approximately one hundred feet above our level. Speed fluctuating—estimated one-fifty knots and increasing. It’s maneuvering."

The co-pilot leaned closer to his display. "Single contact. No transponder. No steady flight path. It’s... erratic."

Ryan shifted toward the open door, craning his neck.

"Zero-eight-five..." Adrian repeated. He turned his head toward the right side of the aircraft.

At first he saw nothing but dark sky and the faint glow of the city below.

Then something moved.

A large shape cut across the skyline, banking sharply. It wasn’t gliding. It was beating its wings—hard.

"Contact visual," the right-side gunner said. "Three o’clock high."

The creature dove, then pulled up sharply, circling.

Even at distance, its size was wrong.

Its wingspan stretched wider than a sedan. Feathers were patchy, sections missing. The skin underneath looked dark and uneven. Its head jerked in short, aggressive motions.

Adrian’s jaw tightened.

He recognized it.

"That’s the same one," he said. "Skyway. The mutated bird."

"What sir?"

Of course they don’t know it. 𝚏𝕣𝐞𝗲𝐰𝕖𝐛𝐧𝕠𝕧𝚎𝚕.𝐜𝚘𝗺

The co-pilot adjusted course slightly. "Bogey now bearing zero-seven-zero. Range six hundred meters. Speed two hundred knots and closing."

"Should we fire on it sir?" the gunner said as he trained the M134 at the incoming bogey.

"I’ll handle it," Adrian said as he materialized a FGM-148 Javelin from his inventory.

The weight settled against his shoulder like it had always been there.

Ryan’s head snapped toward him. "Inside the cabin?"

"Open door," Adrian said.

Noah grabbed the edge of the frame and pulled the side door wider. Wind roared into the cabin, whipping at their clothes.

"Range three hundred meters!" the co-pilot called out. "Closing fast! Bearing zero-six-five!"

The mutated bird folded its wings tighter and dove.

Adrian braced one knee against the cabin floor and leaned toward the open door. The Javelin’s command launch unit activated with a low electronic tone. The seeker display flickered to life.

He centered the reticle on the creature’s body.

The heat signature flared bright.

"Lock," Adrian muttered.

The tone shifted—steady.

"Range two hundred!"

"Firing," Adrian said.

He squeezed the trigger.

The missile ejected from the tube with a sharp burst, clearing the helicopter before the main motor ignited. A split second later, the rocket motor flared bright and the missile arced upward.

The mutated bird reacted instantly.

It banked hard to the left, wings beating violently.

The missile curved in pursuit.

"Impact in three—" Ryan started.

The explosion bloomed midair.

A flash of fire tore through the sky, followed by a shockwave that rattled the helicopter. Burning fragments scattered outward.

And below the smoke, they saw it falling down.

"I guess the target is neutralized," Adrian said. "Finally, I fucking killed that bird."

"Are there any more similar kinds of that sir?" Ryan asked.

"That’s the only mutated zombie I saw ever since the apocalypse started. Who knows, there might be something stronger than that. Now, let’s focus on the landing," Adrian finished. "Eyes on the helipad."

The pilot steadied the aircraft.

"Approaching Okada rooftop. Distance four hundred meters. No visible movement on the pad."

The co-pilot leaned forward slightly. "Thermal scan shows scattered heat signatures on lower levels. Rooftop is cold."

Ryan shifted position and leaned out again, scanning the helipad through his optic.

"Pad looks clear. No hostiles visible from this angle."

The hotel’s rooftop grew larger in the windshield. The circular helipad marking came into view, painted white against the concrete. Windsock at the edge hung limp.

"Descending," the pilot announced.

The helicopter dipped slightly and adjusted its nose. The rotors beat against the air, pushing wind outward across the rooftop. Loose debris skittered toward the parapet.

"Door gunners, hold fire unless engaged," Adrian ordered.

"Copy," both gunners replied.

The aircraft hovered briefly over the pad.

"Ten feet... five... contact."

The skids touched down with a solid thud.

"Engines to idle," the co-pilot said.

"Go, go, go," Ryan called out.

Mason and Cole moved first, boots hitting concrete. They spread immediately—left and right—rifles up, scanning the perimeter.

Jake and Noah followed, covering the opposite arcs.

Ethan stepped out last among the operatives, shotgun angled down but ready.

Adrian unclipped his harness and jumped down onto the helipad.

Wind from the rotors still battered the rooftop.

"Perimeter secure," Mason said after a quick sweep.

"Clear on this side," Cole confirmed.

Ryan stepped closer to Adrian. "Entry point?"

Adrian scanned the rooftop.

There—an access structure near the center. A metal door leading down into the building.

"That stairwell," Adrian said. "We move down from the top. Seventh floor. Room zero-seven-three-one. East wing."

Ryan nodded.

"Formation?"

"Two-man lead," Adrian said. "Ryan and Mason first. Cole and Jake behind. I’ll stay center. Ethan covers rear. Noah floats where needed."

Ryan gave a short nod.

"But first, I’ll summon the second Blackhawk," Adrian said, approaching the nearby helipad. And then summoned it.

It’s going to be where Marco’s daughter and friends would board.