Chapter 84
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 84
Chapter Title: Trapping Diablo
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The sight of Diablo on the other side of the screen resembled the monsters atop Jangpan Bridge.
Countless sentry guns mounted on the buildings unleashed a barrage at it, but rather than falter, the creature advanced step by step, smashing them to pieces.
Over thirty sentry guns lay wrecked in its grasp already, yet not a single scratch marred its body.
A boss worthy of Scenario 3 indeed. Its strength and presence lived up to the title. But...
My expression remained calm as I watched it.
It was unfolding exactly as predicted. Its defenses were formidable, true, but not enough to shrug off a direct rocket launcher hit unscathed. Right now, it was burning through its stockpiled energy to heal.
And the moment that energy ran dry, it would lose that regenerative power.
Normally, it would replenish energy by devouring, but unfortunately, nothing but lifeless machines blocked its path. It moved to stuff a sentry gun into its mouth out of habit, only to spit it out.
No matter that it was a superior Devourer capable of consuming anything, machinery was beyond it. Its charging speed began to slow.
I turned to Queen, who was staring at her laptop just like me.
"Deploy Security Drone 2."
「Understood.」
At her words, red eyes flashed in the camera feed. Soon, silver robots darted through the streetlights. Security Drone 2s.
The Security Drones opened fire without question, blasting with autocannons from afar or swinging the custom blades I'd made in close quarters.
Diablo resisted the new foes, clawing and savagely tearing at their wiring. But as always, overwhelming numbers proved unstoppable.
In the end, it turned tail and fled. Right along the escape route I'd foreseen.
It retraced its arduous path back across the sandbar.
A normal Diablo would have sensed something amiss. But this one, its senses dulled, charged onto the beach without suspicion.
In that instant, a hand burst from the deep sand, seizing its head. Diablo didn't stay passive. A new head sprouted from its own, swallowing the hand.
'Is that a Cerberus?'
An elite zombie unique to Scenario 3, the Cerberus. As if unveiling a hidden trump card, Heracles' hand was half-torn off, mangled and ragged.
Yet Heracles' other hand held fast. Diablo thrashed wildly to break free, but it didn't budge.
Heracles then hoisted it with Herculean strength and slammed it into the sandbar. Once, twice. With each impact, Diablo's strength ebbed further.
Right then, the residents appeared. They unleashed a volley at Diablo. It could barely resist, forced to take the bullets head-on.
Kyaaack!
A howl. The residents flinched, but outnumbered, the howl lost its potency. Besides, Team Apocalypse was among them.
Far from cowed, they intensified their assault.
Alicia's machine gun riddled its gut; Drewn's Hybrid Z severed a leg.
Racked with grievous wounds, Diablo shrieked in agony. Tentacles lashed out, but most missed or bounced off Zixuan's shield.
Then it let out a different scream—one that pierced the soul, unlike before. Not a mere howl, but a skill to summon nearby zombies.
Warren Jones' skill, 'Zombie Summon.' It drew in regular zombies, variants, and elites from several kilometers around, bedeviling countless players.
In the game, you'd clear surrounding zombies first before tackling it in Scenario 3.
Even veterans struggled against it plus hordes of undead.
But this was an island. No zombies to heed its call. Even if any lurked, dismantling the bridges would stop them.
Its cry rang out pathetic and futile. Strength spent, it collapsed. I shut off the camera and stood. Time to finish the job.
When I arrived, residents encircled the fallen beast, rifles trained warily. Diablo glared sharply but offered no resistance.
"How's it feel to be caught?"
I grinned and asked. It didn't reply, merely fixed me with the same sharp stare as the others—powerless to act. I chuckled and drew my gun. The tranquilizer Professor Alex had brought from Hanasol University last time.
He'd grabbed it from his lab, just in case.
One drop could drop an elephant, he'd said.
Of course, Diablo wasn't some mere bull, so I emptied the entire vial.
I aimed at its head and fired. The mithril needle, forged from scrap mithril, pierced deep, injecting the drug.
Gulp, gulp.
The tranquilizer vanished rapidly. Its glare at me grew hazy. Then, in a final spasm, it opened its maw.
Tentacles shot out. But my hand caught them easily. I crushed them in my grip. Its agonized scream faded as it finally passed out.
No room for carelessness—I bound it tightly again. While it was out, we'd use the Paradise Merchants' supplies to build a cage.
With Diablo secured and Heracles, Security Drones, and residents on watch, I boarded the waiting truck with the others and headed to the cruise ship.
Not built for cargo, but spacious enough for several large trucks. Loaded up, I took the helm on the bridge.
None of the residents knew how to pilot a ship, myself included. But as a Mechanic, grasping the controls let me intuit the method.
Soon, I navigated like a seasoned captain, ferrying everyone across the river.
"Impressive."
Jason gazed at me with admiration. I shrugged in response, then eyed the shadows under the streetlights beyond the darkness.
Its howl must've drawn them—quite a crowd of zombies.
Mostly regulars. Few Chasers. The Salvation Church and Shelter C hadn't recovered their numbers yet.
After clearing zombies from the deck, we docked, unloaded the trucks, and raced toward our goal: the Paradise Merchants' goods near Shelter A and the subway station.
* * *
Shelter E had fallen. Their fatal mistake was letting in a man claiming psychic powers. He harassed the women; they drove him out by force.
The trouble came that night.
He returned at midnight, proclaiming divine judgment, and shattered the barrier. No clue how, but zombies swarmed in right after.
Not one or dozens, but hundreds. With Chasers mixed in, they stood no chance.
Leader Yun's quick thinking saved most survivors, but their plight remained dire.
They sought refuge at Shelter F, but got turned away. Too strained to take extras.
Desperate, they headed to Shelter C—their last option. Rejected again, half-heartedly.
Shelter C wanted only the capable, who mostly stayed. The rest, unproven, wandered the city.
Stumbling on the Paradise Merchants' goods was sheer luck, a once-in-a-lifetime windfall.
The Merchants who'd visited their shelter recently were dead, their cargo brimming with treasures.
'Maybe this can negotiate us into Shelter C.'
Yun, steeped in despair, brimmed with hope. These riches would prove their worth.
'If we can just get into Shelter C...'
She recalled it from two days ago.
Its massive walls dwarfed theirs; facilities rivaled paradise.
Ample firepower protected it. They'd even crushed the terrifying Salvation Church recently.
Once inside, stable lives awaited. Even if it meant labor—that was bearable.
Lost in happy thoughts, she heard truck engines.
Sentries roused the others; soon, guns aimed toward the noise.
'Not one truck...'
Several appeared, packed with heavily armed survivors—far better equipped than them.
Salvation Church? No necklaces, so no. But clearly no friends.
Maybe... connected to this cargo.
'Can't let them take it.'
This was their lifeline. Lips bitten raw, she shouted.
"Back off! We claimed this cargo first."
A man stepped from a truck, striding like an owner reclaiming property.
"Claimed? It's unclaimed cargo, as far as I know."
About to retort, she recognized his familiar face. The man who'd come to trade at their shelter.
"We're acquainted, right? It had no owner recently, but we do now. Please leave."
The man—Park Si-hyun—gave her an odd look.
"What happened to Shelter E?"
"It fell."
"Ah, that's too bad."
"This is our last lifeline. Sorry, I get why you'd want it, but back off. Consider it pity."
"Yun, how exactly is this cargo your lifeline?"
Yun froze—had she ever told him her real name?
She hadn't... Wary of how he knew, she replied.
"Shelter C requires conditions for entry. I plan to negotiate with their leader using this."
"Well, bargaining with unusable junk? They might be intrigued, but Lee Seona won't let you in."
Pure speculation, of course. Park Si-hyun didn't know for sure. It hinged on her whim.
"You want Shelter C... Think it'll improve your lives?"
Yet they'd end up slaves there.
Shelter C was like that—lavish to the blessed, merciless to the weak.
He had no intent to critique their ways or Lee Seona's rule, but knew it wouldn't favor Shelter E's folk.
"...Better than scraping by in this city, dreading zombie raids daily."
"Then... how about this?"
Park Si-hyun spoke up.
Apocalypse All-Purpose Machine