Chapter 2
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 2
Chapter Title: Escape from the Lab
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A Black man and an East Asian man—Korean, judging by his looks—glared at each other like they wanted to kill one another. The white guys watched the standoff with keen interest.
Just as it seemed the two were about to throw punches, the lab door slid open with a rumble. A blonde woman came rushing toward us, her pale breasts bouncing as she shouted.
Whew.
Her figure was even more vivid and realistic than it had appeared in VR. The white guys whistled in appreciation. But I didn't have time to admire her body.
She was Dr. Elena from the tutorial. The one with the backstory of secretly raising "Team Apocalypse" in this hidden lab to fight zombies...
And her appearance meant...
"Zombies have broken into the lab! Everyone, run!"
The zombies were about to show up.
I muttered "log out." But the expected message—"Would you like to log out?"—didn't appear.
'...And no time acceleration either.'
Team Apocalypse let players set their own time multipliers. But no matter how many times I whispered "acceleration," the menu wouldn't open.
I was certain. I didn't know how it had happened, but I was trapped inside the game. Which meant...
I jumped to my feet and bolted for the opposite door. Unlike the others, I was a Mechanic. Pretty much a regular person in the early game.
I had to survive somehow.
A few quick thinkers followed me. A white guy and a Chinese woman.
"Hey, Chinese girl, do you know what's going on!?"
"How should I know? That guy started running, so I just followed."
"Hey!"
This time, he called out to me. Of course, I didn't have the luxury to respond leisurely. Zombies appeared from the other side. Far more grotesque than they looked in the game.
The stench of blood and rotting flesh filled the air. Instinctively, I reached for my waist. But my hand grasped nothing. Right—mechanics don't start with a weapon.
'This damn trash class...'
My decade of faith in the Mechanic class wavered slightly.
I shouted back at the others.
"Everyone, kill the zombies!"
The people who'd followed me numbered six in total. Two Gunners, two Bladers, one Psycho, and one Healer. The Gunners raised their guns, the Bladers drew their swords.
The Psycho focused his mind.
Triggers were pulled. Bang! Bang! Bang! The charging zombies dropped amid the rapid gunfire. Those that pushed through the bullet storm fell to the Bladers' swords.
Fleeing zombies floated up into the air before slamming into the floor. Crackle. They burst apart with an unpleasant sound. The Psycho's telekinesis had finally kicked in, belatedly.
I watched from behind, then approached the shattered zombie corpses and rummaged through them. I hated touching them, but I had no choice if I wanted items.
In the tutorial lab, zombies dropped items—and rarely, metal parts.
Luckily, I found a toolbox on a zombie wearing a lab coat.
「Acquired Screws x8.」
「Acquired Hammer x1.」
Screws and a hammer. With the Mechanic's Metal Transformation, I could make a higher-tier item: a screw-embedded hammer. But I didn't craft it right away.
I knew it was more efficient to loot the lab for items to build a Screw Gun instead.
I quickly pocketed them and yelled at the group.
"Everyone, let's move!"
But they stood still, ignoring my orders.
"Are you all trying to die?"
I shouted at them.
"No, why are you ordering us around when you're not doing shit yourself?"
The white guy who'd followed me earlier pointed at me accusingly.
I yelled back, feeling wronged.
"No, I'm a Mechanic! How am I supposed to take down zombies?"
"If you're playing a useless Mechanic class that's trash later on anyway, why not just stay quiet? And why are you hogging all the drops?"
Even though Mechanics were being dissed, it was so absurd I couldn't even get mad. Hogging items?
"Of course..."
I was about to say it was most efficient for me to collect and distribute them, but I shut my mouth seeing their displeased faces.
In a normal game, they'd nod and think, 'Oh, a veteran.' But these were newbies—real hardcore newbies.
'Crazy.'
I had two options.
First: Ditch them and run alone now.
Second: Quell their complaints and leech off them.
In a game, I'd pick the first without hesitation. Tutorial zombies weren't that strong.
Even a regular person could handle them. With good control, I could survive solo. But if this was reality...
'I can't risk my life on a one-coin game.'
I couldn't bet my life on it. I chose the second option. I handed the items I'd collected to the complainer—keeping only the screws and hammer.
"I was holding them to distribute later. Take them all. And let's run—more zombies will keep coming."
"Yeah, that's more like it."
The white guy nodded and took the items. Ah, my precious loot!
"Why should you hold them?"
The Black guy who'd followed asked. The white guy replied matter-of-factly.
"It's safest with me! I'm a Gunner."
In short, he was saying it was better with him since he shot from the back.
"That makes sense..."
The Black guy with the sword nodded in agreement.
"I have a gun too? Let's split them half."
This time, another Black guy aimed his gun at the white guy's head and muttered. A Black woman with purple-scratched hair.
Is this girl crush?
The blonde guy scowled.
"...Fine."
He meekly gave up half the items in front of the gun to his head. Honestly, pulling the trigger wouldn't do damage anyway due to the no-PvP function. Ah, but if the game became reality, maybe that's gone too?
In the ensuing chaos, more zombies appeared. They were swept away by Gunner fire support and Blader charges.
While they cleared them, I risked my life scouring the lab interior. There were a few hidden pieces inside.
They changed per game, but divided into points A, B, C, D, E. Of course, I knew all five spots.
I grabbed a pistol flashing green from a shelf.
「Acquired Beginner Plasma Pistol x1.」
「Beginner Plasma Pistol」
Durability: 1/33
Attack Power: 170~400
Description: A plasma pistol discarded in the lab.
Restrictions: None
A durability-1 plasma pistol. Junk you could pick up off the street later, single-use, but right now it was worth a life.
Minimum 170 attack power. Regular zombies, even mutants, would die instantly to a body shot.
Of course, as a non-Gunner, I couldn't maximize it. But that didn't mean I'd hand it to a Gunner.
Next, I snagged the Mechanic's hidden piece.
「Acquired Mysterious Data Module x1.」
Useless for now, but it'd be key for building an android robot later.
I couldn't find the Blader, Psycho, or Healer hidden pieces.
Not that they were essential, and I couldn't ask to go back, so I left the lab with the group without regret.
Out of 15 survivors including me, 14 made it out. Late, but safe.
Ah, the one who died hesitated with his sword against the zombies, got bitten, infected, and turned.
Now we had 4 Gunners, 3 Bladers, 4 Psychos, 2 Healers, 1 Mechanic. Kinda lucky, all things considered. Losing a Healer would've been fatal.
Not exactly uplifting. Survivor zombies would respawn eventually to harass us.
"Damn it, Martin died. Oh my God, is this really a game?"
The dead white guy's name must've been Martin. While the whites mourned him, the Blacks and East Asians huddled, cursing together.
"Damn, can't log out. This isn't a game!"
"Shit!"
It felt weird seeing the Korean (probably) guy and Black guy cursing side by side. Weren't those two just fighting over who was shorter or skinnier?
"Everyone, calm down first."
The Chinese Healer woman and white woman started steadying nerves. Makes sense—beautiful female Healers were best for morale, game or reality.
"I'm new to this game... But surely some of you here have played a lot."
The Chinese woman introduced herself as Zixuan. The white woman nodded and said.
"I'll introduce myself first. I'm Olivia, and I haven't played much. Anyone played a ton? Maybe that person should lead."
I raised my hand first. Better me than some newbie. But the white guy who'd raised his hand over items earlier did too.
"Wouldn't I be better than that East Asian guy? I'm Johnson. Played about a month."
Faces lit up in surprise. No, a month makes him a super newbie, right? Their shock meant everyone was a first-timer?
I sighed and said.
"I've played ten years."
"Bullshit. The game's not even been out ten years."
The white guy pointed at me. I looked around. People were whispering.
"He was just standing around earlier."
"Giving orders but doing nothing himself."
In the end, I lowered my hand. Couldn't threaten with the plasma pistol to lead here.
"First, head to a nearby survivor shelter."
He'd played a few times, at least.
Shelter option. Recommended for newbies.
Mid-tier players avoid it. Heading to shelter spawns variant zombies, so farm around first.
Veterans like me gather nearby zombies and raid the shelter.
Pity the NPCs, but hogging early shelter supplies is huge.
Of course, suggesting that here would get me labeled insane.
'And if this game's world became reality.'
Could I treat NPCs as just NPCs?
"By the way, Johnson, where's the shelter?"
"Check your wrist. It's a wristwatch showing our position."
Apocalypse All-Purpose Machine