As of this chapter's posting, the writing for this project has been completed.

After this installment, there will be 13 more to follow.

100 chapters. It's a good number, a clean number, and I'm happy with it.

I just wanted to mention this now, so that y'all know. There's gonna be plenty left to explore, but the finish line is in sight. I hope you'll join me on the home stretch.

Now, then.

One of the things that's kinda easily overlooked if you get too deep into fandom discourse is the fact that Seto and Mokuba are both, at their core, fuckin' nerds. So you know I had to approach the quintessential debate topic eventually.

I really didn't have much choice in the matter.


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"I think the best place to hole up would be a warehouse store. Like Costco or Sam's Club."

Seto looked affronted that his own brother would make such a ridiculous statement. "You and about eighty-six percent of every major population on the planet. What, exactly, do you intend to do when you get to your Costco and find out that thousands of other would-be survivors are already fighting for a place there?"

Mokuba rolled his eyes. "Oh, I'm sorry. Where would you go, then, since you're so smart?"

"You have to think like a medieval warlord," Seto said. "High in the mountains. Or on the coast, if you end up needing an escape. Zombies can't swim. A ship would be best for avoiding the undead, but that comes with it a whole host of other problems. Anywhere except a major city."

"How do you know zombies can't swim?" Mokuba shot back. "We're already working with the idea that zombies are real, meaning the laws of nature don't apply."

"Zombies are theoretically possible."

"The only reason you're saying that is because you want points." Mokuba huffed. "You would never say that except to win an argument, and you know it."

"Oh, I'm sorry," said Seto, "have I not shown proof enough that I'm willing to admit when I'm wrong? You think I'm some staunch science jockey who refuses to believe in the supernatural? How many blood magic extinction events have I helped avoid?"

"What happens when you run out of food in your fancy mountain castle or your ship, smart guy?" Mokuba asked instead of answering.

"What happens when you run out of food in your Sam's Club?" Seto stood up from his seat. "You have to adapt. Hunt. Forage. If we assume the mountain route, then find a place defensible enough to set up gardens."

"Doesn't sound sustainable. How many people could you possibly keep alive that way?"

"However many you can afford to keep." Seto waved a dismissive hand. "There's only so much that will keep, at your pie-in-the-sky warehouse store. When the refrigeration dies out, which will not take long, anything and everything perishable is prepackaged compost."

"There's plenty of canned food too, though."

"Canned food is easily transported. If you're going to do it, do it right, and take canned food with you to the fucking mountains."

"Fine. A Sam's Club in the mountains, then." Seto rolled his eyes. "Weapons. I vote for crossbows."

"Only if you know how to repair them. Longbows are better."

"Melee weapon?"

"Poleaxe."

"They're so heavy, though."

"Precisely. You want heft. One swing, one kill."

"If you miss, you're dead."

"I could say the same about crossbows. You don't think those things are light, do you?"

"All right. If you have to take a gun—"

"Revolver."

"What?" Mokuba looked flabbergasted. "You don't even have a revolver."

"Obviously," Seto said. "I live on Earth, where I can afford to have a firearm repaired or replaced in short order. In an apocalypse scenario, you want reliable. So, revolver. Besides, the likelihood of using a gun at all is a pipe dream. They're a last resort. The most likely thing you'll end up pointing that thing at is yourself."

"I still think a bolt-action rifle is the way to go. You get more distance that way."

"If you hit. Even if you aim at center mass, a revolver has the stopping power to make a difference. How many head-shots have you managed, exactly? Do you have any idea how difficult those are to pull off?"

"What about a machete?" Mokuba asked instead of answering the question.

Seto blinked. "Machete is good." He nodded. "Pretty much anything you get at a reputable hardware store is going to be of some use."

"How can you tell when a hardware store is reputable?"

"Look for middle-aged men in flannel. Also, women with short-cropped hair . . . in flannel. Basically just. Look for flannel."

"Boots?"

"Steel-toed."

"Is this about the apocalypse or the hardware store thing?"

"Yes."

"So what I'm hearing is," Mokuba said, "the people most likely to live through a zombie outbreak is balding dads and their estranged daughters."

"Pretty much."

"Who's least likely to survive?"

"Smug katana advocates."