Chapter 52
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 52
Chapter Title: Salvation Church Infiltration
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I nicked my finger and dripped blood onto the Salvation Church necklace. The blue sapphire protruding in the center soon turned red. Along with it, a message appeared before me.
"The Salvation Church Necklace has been bound to you."
"Bound Salvation Church Necklace"
Durability: 3/5
Defense: 1
Strength +1, Intelligence -1
Description: A symbol representing membership in the Salvation Church. When worn, you can recognize others wearing the same necklace.
Restriction: Owner (Unique)
It boosted Strength by 1 but lowered Intelligence by 1, which affected the power of active skills. For a Blader, whose skills were mostly passive, it might be fine, but for a Mechanic like me, it was no better than trash.
And above all, wearing it would turn survivors outside the Salvation Church hostile toward me. Who the hell would put this on? Even so, I slipped the necklace around my neck.
If you want to catch a tiger, you have to go into its den—what choice did I have? I changed into clothes from a nearby store display, slung a single rifle over my shoulder, and trudged toward Shelter C.
After walking for a while, the cross suddenly began to glow green. A green glow from the cross meant there were other Salvation Church followers nearby.
Sure enough, a group of survivors appeared. All of them wore the crosses—Salvation Church devotees. I tensed up a bit. In the game, it was just a "game," so I'd done it without a second thought.
But this world was starkly different from the game, and my heart pounded like mad.
A man in leather clothes, who seemed to be their leader, greeted me warmly. Maybe because I was wearing the cross, his reaction was the opposite of those who'd immediately opened fire on me.
"Welcome, brother."
I feigned maximum composure and replied.
"It's a pleasure to meet a brother here."
My line was straight out of the game, something Salvation Church followers said to each other. They didn't seem to sense anything off about it.
"Heading somewhere all alone like that? Well, not entirely alone, I see."
His eyes were on my Aegis. In the game, they'd never commented whether I wore a power suit or a lion mask...
Was it a mistake?
Of course, I had no intention of taking off the Aegis. That would be far too dangerous. So, should I just kill these bastards right now?
As various thoughts raced through my mind, I glanced at him and responded nonchalantly.
"I got it off a Shelter C survivor. Pretty useful, huh."
"A Shelter C survivor?"
"Some guy named Jason. He didn't even know he had a power suit. So I put it on and snapped his neck."
I mimed grabbing my own throat as I spoke. Glancing back, the Salvation Church followers were watching with intrigued expressions. Sorry, Jason.
Thanks to my acting, he didn't press further about the Aegis.
"Yeah, I've heard that name from some prisoners before. You know what? Shelter C fell recently. By our hands. Heh, you should've heard those survivors scream."
Boasting proudly of their exploits, he soon looked at me with eyes full of respect.
"You're one fun brother. Snapping a neck with your bare hands? Even we've been through hell and back, but we've never tried that..."
Conversing with these human scum had somehow turned me into one of them.
"Could you come to the worship hall and tell the prisoners about your feat?"
I'd worried they might know Jason's name, and my overacting had backfired. Refusing here would only raise more suspicion... So I nodded.
I headed to the Salvation Church worship hall with them. Maybe because it was a recently conquered area, there were a lot of their followers around.
Since they were in a group, no one suspected me. Thanks to that, I entered the worship hall without incident—bloodless entry.
The Hall of Stars was one thing, but the worship hall was flashy and impressive too.
For context, remembering that this building was constructed after the apocalypse showed just how insane the Salvation Church bastards were.
Inside the worship hall stood a statue of their cult leader. A handsome man's statue. It was Cult Leader Warren Jones. As someone who knew his "real face," I couldn't help but sneer.
'Cult freaks are pros at beautifying their leader's face.'
Of course, how many would follow if they knew their leader looked as hideous as a zombie? Since they'd never seen him in person, they bought into this fake statue without question.
Among the people here, the only ones who might have seen the cult leader's face were probably the bishops who'd received the "direct" zombie control ability from him.
"Let's hold the worship service first."
I nodded. The worship hall was packed with devotees. They looked like "normal people" in front of the statue, but I never forgot they were madmen gripped by fanaticism.
Up front, a bishop was ranting with exaggerated gestures.
"Let us pray to the almighty and great Cult Leader."
The choir on one side began to sing.
-Great Cult Leader.
-Our Cult Leader is the one savior who will bring light to this world.
It was the song known among Apocalypse players as the "Salvation Hymn." The devotees I'd come with were humming and singing along. To avoid suspicion, I sang along enthusiastically too.
"Who's that devotee?"
But once again, I'd overdone it and caught the bishop's attention.
"He's the one I brought."
The leather-clad man who'd brought me raised his hand proudly.
"Oh, really? Where from?"
"From the northern worship hall."
They didn't suspect a thing. Even I thought the same. Who'd suspect a spy when a cross-wearing guy comes in and sings their hymn with such zeal?
"That singing's full of passion—I like it. I'll give you a gift after."
The bishop nodded with a satisfied expression.
...The hymn continued afterward. Not wanting to stand out more, I sang along moderately. After the service ended, the bishop called me over and handed me the "gift."
It was a can of food. The label said "Bean," but given the Salvation Church's nature, what was inside was obvious.
"Thigh meat. You'll like the taste, I bet."
The lid sealed it tight—no view inside, no smell... But I felt nauseous anyway. I wanted to rig a bomb and blow the whole worship hall sky-high.
Of course, the time wasn't right yet. I bowed my head, took the can, and stowed it in my backpack.
"Jackpot, brother. Do you know what that can's made of?"
"Survivors' thigh meat, right?"
"Yeah, and specifically from Shelter C folks. Picked the plump, fatty ones. Come on, let's go see the livestock. I want to hear your tale of valor and watch their faces twist."
You psycho bastard, you're dead by my hand.
Muttering that inwardly, I nodded. We headed down to the basement. Deep inside, a prison came into view.
The stench wafting from the cells, the survivors lying there lifeless—it hit me all at once. Even seeing us, their gazes stayed fixed on empty space.
They must have been tortured badly; their bodies twitched sporadically. The man observed them like animals in a zoo, then rapped on the bars.
Only then did the survivors look our way. Their lifeless eyes drooped like rotten fish.
The man spoke proudly.
"Today, we're introducing a proud brother from the Salvation Church. Remember the leader of those Shelter C escapees—Jason, was it? This brother here snapped his neck."
I nodded while scanning the "guards"—their numbers and positions. Three guards. Wearing power suits, armed with submachine guns.
Next, I checked the cameras. Cleverly hidden in the corner, but I spotted them easily.
I could disable the cameras with Metal Transformation, but the guards were the real issue. Three in standard power suits would be tough for me right now.
Even if I somehow took them out with a surprise attack, a horde of devotees from upstairs would make it impossible.
Heavy weapons aside, there was no guarantee these were the only power suit users here.
"J-Jason's dead?"
"What about my wife who went with Jason? What happened to my wife?"
The survivors rattled the bars, asking. I felt the gaze of the man who'd brought me here. The guards' eyes were on me too.
"Your wife? Think she's alive? I snapped her neck just like Jason's."
"You fucking bastard!?"
A gaunt man shot up and reached through the bars. The man patted my shoulder approvingly, then prodded the gaunt man back with a baton.
He tumbled backward.
"You stupid heretic!"
The other survivors glared murderously but kept silent, probably figuring they could end up the same.
"Come on, brother. We've riled up the livestock— their meat'll taste better now."
I followed him out. The leather-armored man said he was meeting friends at the worship hall, while I headed for the Hall of Stars. No one batted an eye at my excuse of wanting to sightsee.
Whether because the bishop had praised me earlier or because this was common, I smoothly made it inside the Hall of Stars.
'Beautiful.'
The interior was stunning. Far more than in the VR game. My gaze slowly swept over the soft purple-glowing murals before settling on the central coffin.
Inside the reinforced glass was a softly glowing purple lump. My target: the "Adamantium Fragment."
I scanned the surroundings. About five onlookers like me, and three guards.
The onlookers weren't heavily armed, and while the guards didn't wear power suits like the basement ones, they were equipped with flamethrowers.
I pressed my hand to the wall in a blind spot. To disable the camera. Since the Hall of Stars walls were metal, I successfully neutralized the connected camera with Metal Transformation.
They'd probably think it was a malfunction. If they figured it out later, I'd be long gone by then. Just then, the onlookers filed out of the Hall of Stars.
Apocalypse All-Purpose Machine