Lending a Hand in Salvation - 6
It had been five days since we started tackling the dungeon.
"Hoo..."
These past few days, it felt like I'd seen more monster faces than Sua's or Seohee's. I was almost worried I'd start developing feelings for them or something.
"Hyah."
This staff had been in use for quite a while now, but its durability was clearly hitting its limit. No matter how carefully I infused it with mana, swinging anything other than a sword like that was bound to twist the object just a little.
Anyway, I swept the zombies aside. Just like I had been lately.
Once the situation was roughly under control, my companions from behind rushed forward.
"Great work, sir! We'll handle the cleanup now!"
"Yeah, I'll take care of the ones on the left over there, so you girls handle the fallen zombies on that side."
"Got it!"
The group I'd met at the dungeon entrance last time was still lingering around here, unable to leave easily. Abandoning their feverish, disease-ridden comrade wasn't an option, but pushing deeper meant facing monsters they couldn't handle.
Luckily, their interests aligned perfectly with mine. I could clear the fights in seconds, but cleanup was a tedious pain. For them, combat was a life-or-death struggle, but tidying up was just poking surviving zombies with weapons—simple labor.
A deal was struck in no time. I led the way, mowing down monsters, and they followed, finishing off the stragglers. Even splitting the treasure chest money fifty-fifty wasn't much of a loss for me. I was here to take down the boss, not farm cash.
Cleanup wrapped up in a flash.
Just as those women said...
The dungeon was more flexible than I'd thought. Not every zombie head needed to be cleaved off perfectly. If the number of entrants and their levels allowed for a certain threshold of low-level or incapacitated zombies, the system just marked it as "cleared" and opened the door.
But I was solo, and my level wasn't sky-high. Inevitably, I had to kill nearly everything to hit that threshold. With these makeshift allies now, though, the time sink was shrinking fast.
"Treasure chest! You open it first, sir!"
They treated me with real deference. Well, after watching me butcher zombies right in front of them, it'd be hard not to.
"Yeah, thanks."
I opened the box and split the bills precisely in half, handing their share over.
"Thank you!"
"Sure..."
"Looks like this is the end of B2! There's a safe zone over there, so we'll rest up here."
The spot she pointed to was a bare room—nothing but a basic toilet and water fountain. Empty space. But in a dungeon, that was prime real estate. Resting in a zombie-corpse-filled room was gross, and other rooms meant more zombies waiting.
"You sure you don't want to head up?"
"What would we even do out there? Just get mobbed by zombies."
"Fair enough..."
"If it's okay, care for a drink before you go?"
"Yeah, why not. Just a quick one."
Their eyes lit up with hopeful glints. I tore open a few snack packs and spread them on the floor.
"Wash your hands first."
"Right away!"
They looked rough around the edges, but moments like this brought out their cute side. And looks-wise, they were all beauties, regardless of the tough vibes.
I pulled out a bottle of soju and we took turns swigging straight from it—no cups.
"By the way, sir... every time you head up to see that doctor bitch, your face sours. Something up?"
"Nah, nothing big. You know those antipyretics I gave you? She's bitching nonstop about them."
"Pardon?"
In the corner, a woman with a flushed face was coughing awkwardly. The one who could sorta move after the meds but couldn't fight. Still, with steady food and meds lately, she was improving—maybe not fully recovered, but functional soon.
"It's a daily shitshow over that."
"Ha, that cunt went that far?"
"Yup. Tells me to cough up snacks, then bitches about what I give others. Eye-roll city. Beats me why."
I let out a deep sigh.
"You girls holding up okay? Life treating you alright?"
They exchanged glances, then started venting one by one.
"Not really. No supply points nearby anyway, and we're stuck here babysitting her..."
"No loot worth taking, and food's running dry. No answers."
"Without you, sir, we'd probably have starved by now."
I nodded with a wry smile.
"Alright, keep it up."
"Thanks, sir!"
"Guess I'll head out then... time to go up."
The end of each floor had a one-way elevator up. Lucky break. Without it, backtracking would've eaten another full day.
"See ya."
"Yes, sir! Take care!"
After goodbyes, I hopped on the rattling elevator and sighed. Tempting thought: smash the floor and drop straight to the boss room? Nah, system protections would block it. No need to risk it.
Dusk was falling already. Night didn't threaten me much, but I wanted to get back before too late.
One thing left to do, though.
"I'm here!"
Standing in front of the hospital, I waved energetically.
"...I told you not to come at night."
"Promise with Heea. Can you get her?"
Shin Roa bit her lip, holding back fury, then wheeled Heea over to the window in her chair.
"Oppa!!!"
"Heea! You good?"
"Yeah! Ate all the snacks you gave me—they were yummy! And... today's shot didn't hurt!"
"Good to hear."
She was smiling. In this world, a kid smiling felt like pure healing.
Roa had zero likable traits, but her little sister? Impossible not to adore.
"Anything besides snacks you wanna eat?"
"Hmm... chocolate?"
"That's snacks. Already brought tons. Something else?"
"Pudding?"
"That... might turn up if I look. Got it, I'll check tomorrow!"
"Oppa best!"
Roa, who'd been listening, exploded in an angry yell.
"What the hell? Get lost already. Planning to sugar-shock my sister to death? I'll monitor her nutrition—"
"Whoa, Heea, see that? Your sister's scheming to hog the pudding! If we let this slide, disaster!"
"For real?"
Heea's eyes went wide, staring at me. Roa grabbed her shoulders.
"Total lie, obviously. Don't buy that guy's crap, got it?"
Heea mumbled sullenly.
"Oppa, no lying. It's bad... Don't hate my sister..."
A stab of guilt mixed with overwhelming cuteness overload.
"Okay, okay, won't happen. Hey, but if we're talking bad—your sister totally—"
"Sis isn't bad!"
"Huh?"
"Sis only acts bad 'cause of me... 'cause of me... Waaah..."
Roa was glaring like she wanted me dead.
"D-Doctor? Maybe put down the scalpel before glaring?"
"Why'd you make her cry? Wanna die?"
In the tense air, I desperately backpedaled.
"H-Heea! I believe you! Your sister's not bad! For real!"
Here I was, the guy who'd just preached "lying's bad," spouting total bullshit without batting an eye.
"R-Really? You really believe me?"
"Course. Gotta believe our pretty Heea!"
"For true?"
Tears stopped in a flash; she beamed. Still tear-streaked and kinda goofy, but adorable.
"See ya tomorrow then! Heading out!"
I waved goodbye energetically.
Roa watched me with complicated eyes.
"Sis?"
Roa bit her lip, seeing Heea gauging her reaction.
"No, thanks. You stuck up for sis, right? Hated hearing her badmouthed."
"Yeah..."
"Can't be helped."
Roa hugged Heea tight in her wheelchair.
"But sis isn't a good person. Not smart either."
Heea struggled to lift her arms, hugging back.
"No. Sis is a doctor. Super smart, and... good person. If not for me—"
"Opposite."
Roa shook her head firmly.
"Sis is... sis is dumb, selfish, and bad..."
Heea teared up. This topic always plunged her sister into endless self-loathing and pain.
"That's why... you ended up like this."
Seeing Roa grieve was Heea's least favorite thing—worse than bitter meds, painful shots, or endless boredom.
But unavoidable.
Roa was crying. Like slipping back into the past, desolate.