The atmosphere in the shelter's conference room was heavy with urgency. The founding members of the shelter had gathered around a large, worn wooden table. Gabriel stood at the head, his expression stern as his eyes swept over everyone present.
"Where is Derrick?" Gabriel asked, voice calm but edged with concern.
One of the members, a middle-aged woman with a tired face, answered quietly, "Derrick is resting, sir. He exhausted himself using his skill."
Gabriel exhaled, nodding firmly. "Let him rest. He's done more than enough."
He straightened, his voice ringing with authority as he opened the meeting. "We are here to discuss what happened to group expedition." He paused, eyes darkening. "Ken returned alone, severely wounded, and reported that his team was ambushed by a group of mutated zombies. The others… they were either killed or captured."
Murmurs spread around the table, faces grim.
