"— which would mean a drop of one to two percent for the next period of tertiary stocks."

"It's almost unacceptable. Can we put down some chaff and cut this corner a little tighter? I want to at least break even. ”

"I'll see what we can do, sir. Our next installment is the New Montreal Invasion. It landed near some of our properties. The initial damage assessment didn't look good. ”

"Aren't those buildings still under construction?"

"Yes sir."

"And then throw it at the insurance department. Tell me about the upcoming holidays. It's Christmas just around the corner. ”

"Of course, sir."

-- Dixon Technology Enterprises. Owner of 2517 Trudeau Avenue.

***

I'm keeping quiet. I'm quiet. Ha ha.

For years, I had been sneaking out of the shared room at the orphanage, spending days trying not to be noticed until I had grown a backbone.

I'm very good at moving quietly.

That's why I don't think any aliens spotted me when I was hiding behind the counter.

An entire floor, or at least a part of it, is dedicated to serving as a food court. There are about a dozen restaurants in the center of the floor, with tables and chairs arranged around the windows. It's not too special. I've been to similar places like malls and stuff like that.

Automatic pizzerias, traditional tofu shops, all have acne-riddled teenage employees.

And then there's all the usual chains. McDonald's, Burger King, etc.

Unfortunately, they were all closed by then.

Two dozen three-dozen models and six-dozen four-model dragged the dead fried chef across the floor, revealing the cause.

They gathered all the bodies to one side, where there was a bridge connecting the building to another.

There is a complete network of channels that connect the buildings together. This is nothing new. On the other hand, these connections are used to bring the deceased to the street below, which is different.

"," I muttered as I stepped back behind the counter I was using as cover. I initially moved to the main path at the edge of the building, just like I did on other floors, but seeing so many damn aliens, I had to look for another way.

It turns out that all the service corridors are connected to the back of the various restaurants, probably so that they can store refrigerators and feces without disturbing customers. I picked a nice hiding place next to the cash register of a noodle shop and peeked in from behind.

"If there were so many damn people, we wouldn't have passed through here," I whispered. I reached out and scratched my nose with the disposable mask I had bought earlier. There's no point in getting by all the four molds around.

You can go up and down the stairs via the elevator.

"When all these aliens decide to run upstairs? I don't think a small barricade will stop these people from coming. "I said." If they could get more out of other buildings, it wouldn't. ”

I'm thinking about another thing. The number of surrounding aliens means a lot of points. I've fallen to seventy. That won't get me very far.

Of course, if everything goes exactly according to plan, then I'll leave here with the kitten before nightfall, away from the worst part of the city.

Things don't have a smooth sailing habit for me.

You have seventy points. Perhaps there is a way to use them to eliminate the remaining antagonists in the region.

I bit the inside of my cheek and slowly poked my head out. There are a lot of aliens around, but a properly placed grenade or two can wipe out some of them.

My attention was then drawn to one of the bridges that spanned this building and another, wider building across the street. The bridge itself resembles a glass-roofed atrium. There were two rows of – now empty – planters inside, which functioned as some sort of railing, except for a car-sized hole where it had been torn off. It is about twenty meters long and five meters wide, and it is packed with aliens.

Model Three sniffed around, and Model Four stamped to the edge of the hole, each carrying one or two corpses, sometimes a box of food, sometimes a whole rack of fries. What worries me is the hulking beast near the entrance.

"What's that?" I asked.

Model Six? They are uncommon in the early stages of the invasion, but they begin to appear more regularly as nightfall. I recommend avoiding direct confrontation. While your current weapon may damage it, it takes a lot of luck to actually kill the number six behemoth.

I see why. The thing had six legs and encircled a long, thick body covered with almost angular plates. It moved a bit to avoid the path of a pair of Type Four carrying the entire vending machine. The vending machine gave me a sense of scale. The Enneagram is nearly one and a half meters tall and is very simple.

Its face is boxy, with two pairs of eyes on each side, and a square chin covered with flat-pointed teeth like camels.

"What's the gimmick of it?" I asked as I slid down.

Model Six is a heavy, opposing combat unit. They are also much smarter than most other models on the scale of one to ten and will act as a kind of unit of command. Listen closely, and you'll hear it giving very basic commands.

I frowned, but did as she asked, listening intently, trying to pick out any distinctive sounds.

The hum of the wind blowing into the building, the hissing of the fryer left behind, and the footsteps of aliens. Then I heard a faint but clear whistle, my voice trembled, and my pitch changed.

I nodded. "Got it. Therefore, it needs to be dismantled along with other parts. ”

It is true that more points can be given.

"Great." I leaned against the counter and sighed. I had to come up with some kind of plan, but the only thing that came to my mind was throwing dynamite and hoping for the best, but it wasn't a plan.

Or is it?

"How strong do you think the bridge over there is, can I afford a bomb big enough to blow it up?"