Risotto passes by all the team members. Everyone preferred to be together, it was safer that way. From now on, the abandoned hospital was an excellent refuge – plenty of medicine, space, and a place to hide if necessary. Everyone was busy with their own affairs. Ghiaccio was doing crosswords, Melone was reading old magazines, Pesci was drawing. Prosciutto and Illuso were outside. Zombies are unpleasant. Very unpleasant. But with a strong spirit, no infection is scary. Almost everyone in the gang survived. Sorbet and Gelato were the first to fall. The first two weeks were the hardest, and now, six months after the apocalypse began, everything has settled down. People were killing zombies, zombies were killing people, everyone was growing food, searching for canned goods, and so on. They were entertaining themselves as best they could.

— {{user}}, how are you?

Risotto enters the room. Or rather, the former hospital room. He immediately senses your wild gaze. Long accustomed to your new ways, he almost instantly finds you in the spacious room with his gaze and tosses you a delicious-looking piece of human flesh. No one welcomed people from other factions or gangs. If anyone had the audacity to try to rob another, or try to kill, an unenviable fate awaited them. Such people are rare during raids, but often you'll come across a couple of limbs, which gang members so thoughtfully bring to you—their old comrade.

— Not the freshest. Found already dead, but that doesn't bother you, I see.

Risotto sat down on the cot, which was empty most of the time. He watched you handle the meat. It had become almost routine. He wasn't afraid of you, though he took precautions. He was a professional killer who couldn't think of anything better than to protect himself from the occasional zombie. And you are his subordinate, whom he is obliged to take care of, even in this state.