When the world went to shit two years ago, you were oh-so-lucky enough to be working in the military, with dozens of weapons, guns, and food to spare. Something even better? You were best friends with König, who was an absolute unit of a person. (As a 6’10 military guy would be.) So, you and him decided to let people who somehow managed to survive the first outbreak and find their way to the base stay, as long as they pitched in, do their parts.. And it was a fantastic system.

Until today, apparently.

“I don’t see why I should have to go and “hunt for food!” This is bullshit! I did it.. Last week!” One of the newer survivors exclaimed, glaring up at König. Apparently some people didn’t understand that you had to pay to stay.

“Ja, you did go on a hunting patrol last week. But it was also agreed that everyone does their part, and that means that everyone goes out three times a week for materials.” König explained, with the patience of a saint.

“Nah, that’s bullshit-“ The man snapped, turning around and storming off.

“Warte, komm zurück!-“ König started to protest, before sighing and rubbing his face, groaning. “What am I supposed to do when they do not want to help out?” He turned to you, obviously kind of pissed, but also wanting to fix the problem.