As God Wills (5)

The assault rifle lay abandoned in the elevator. The magazine was missing, and just as my sister had said, a single round sat in the chamber—the part where the bullet waits before firing. It was impossible to guess what had happened. Who the hell had bothered to send up nothing but this rifle?

“Maybe they dropped it while loading? Or got attacked, the gun slipped inside the elevator, and it rode up on its own?”

My sister answered my question that way, and I figured she was probably right. No one would have set it up like this on purpose, and the fact that one round was already in the chamber suggested they’d been interrupted mid-load or had tried to leave just a single bullet like in some game before getting hit. Either way, it meant we could get attacked the moment we rode the elevator down. So we moved furniture inside it. Something to hide behind if things went wrong.

But we still hadn’t descended. There was too much preparation left.

“Oppa, you sure you don’t need a gun?”

“I don’t even know how to shoot one. Or how to load it.”

I handed the revolver to her completely. It only held the six loaded rounds, but we could always find more. That settled it.

After two full days of rest, we went back to the cultists.

“Hey. Where did Choi Jae-wook live?”

“Ch-Choi Jae-wook? He, uh, lived on the second floor…”

Choi Jae-wook’s quarters on the second floor had already been stripped clean. They must have done it while we were resting in the penthouse.

“Bring out everything that was inside.”

“W-we don’t… we don’t know what you—”

Only after another skull exploded did they start listening. These bastards really were stubborn. Maybe next time I should kill one first as an example before asking questions.

Anyway, we obtained the revolver ammunition Choi Jae-wook had used.

The awkward number of loose rounds gave the situation a painful touch of realism. It also told us exactly what Choi Jae-wook had been using them for. Damn cultist bastards. My sister had made the right call shooting him. If we’d been even a second slower or hesitated, one of us would have taken a bullet—me or her.

After handing her the ammo, the rest of our time became rest and preparation. We needed to wipe away any lingering fatigue, stress, or minor injuries. We also waited out the looting cooldown, talked through every detail with each other, and built our plan. How we would fight, how we would explore, and how we would respond to different situations. In truth it was mostly me offering ideas while my sister talked me into better ones.

As we talked, the conversation drifted toward the future. We lay naked in the penthouse, bodies tangled and pressed together.

“What are you going to do with the church people?”

“I don’t know. We can probably leave them alone. We’ve disciplined them pretty well.”

“That’s true, but…”

“If there wasn’t a snake among them, maybe. But there is.”

A sweet scent rode my sister’s breath. I inhaled it and glanced out the window.

The New ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Heaven Rapture Mission Church. This cult had been the largest in the country. Now that I knew miracles were real, it made sense, but the sheer number of followers and the scale of their operation had been insane. Ten million believers. One in five citizens, just within the country. And the village in front of their rapture shelter, Sion Mountain Fortress—practically a small city in itself—had belonged entirely to them. Elementary schools, middle schools, high schools, even a university. Every kind of workplace, restaurant, bank, and hospital.

By focusing their influence domestically instead of spreading recklessly overseas, the New Heaven Rapture Mission Church had grown rapidly, pushing out or absorbing every other cult. If all those lunatics had been inside Sion Mountain Fortress, and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠if there had been more of them, the number of variants would have been overwhelming and killing the cult leader wouldn’t have been nearly so easy.

In a way, this too had been thanks to Snake Daddy’s grace.

“…Oppa? What are you doing?”

“Worshipping.”

“Not praying?”

“Why would I pray to a bitch who’s already dead?”

I snorted, but my sister kept praying. That was how she opened her status window, so it was only natural. Nothing to complain about.

While feeling grateful for Snake Daddy’s grace, I felt certain. This was our chance. I had no idea what was waiting inside the bunker or what it held, but we couldn’t keep avoiding danger forever. Sometimes you had to face it to survive. We needed power, weapons, and better ways to keep living.

The world had ended. Humans had finally become true individuals.

“Hey, Kang Ahyeon.”

“Yeah?”

“Shall we go get it now?”

“That’s a line from a manga—”

“Supplies.”

“Like I said, from a manga—”

We moved. We loaded the elevator with furniture we didn’t need in the penthouse. We dressed properly, scavenging useful clothes from what seemed to be the cult leader’s closet and the wardrobes of his concubines. A high-quality leather jacket and gloves for me. My sister chose a practical dress, hiking boots, and a coat. We strapped bayonets to our thighs, packed cleavers and kitchen knives into bags. The revolver went into a side holster, the shotgun stayed in hand. The assault rifle with its single round we left leaning against the elevator wall as we descended.

Our chosen exploration method was gradual progression.

Ding!

The elevator doors opened. I stepped into the bunker while my sister swept her gun across every angle.

The bunker… was exactly what a bunker should be. Tiles, concrete, a bleak but well-lit interior. Right in front of the door were bloodstains—dried now, but clearly once a massive pool. Definitely the rifle owner’s. An empty magazine stood sentinel beside them, guarding its master’s final moments.

I slid the empty magazine into the rifle, set it upright again, and started moving furniture.

Three branching paths. One blood trail. Bullet casings dotted the floor along one of them. The fact that the empty magazine had been removed suggested they had tried to reload. Which meant they’d had another magazine ready. But it wasn’t here.

Had the variant in this place picked it up? Or was the enemy human after all? I didn’t know. There was no point thinking about it. We just had to kill whatever it was.

I blocked the other two passages and looked at my heavily armed sister.

“Not too heavy?”

“Still okay. What about you, Oppa?”

“I’ve only got one machete. Why would it be heavy?”

True. With Strength 4 it probably wasn’t. Still, better safe than sorry. I finished sealing the other two paths completely.

Only the trail of casings remained. If danger was waiting, better to go find it than get ambushed.

“Let’s go.”

We advanced together down the long corridor.

The method was simple. My sister hugged the left wall with the shotgun ready while I hugged the right, machete in hand, moving forward.

Clang. Clang. Clang.

Every corner, I tapped the wall with the machete and waited. Only when nothing reacted did we proceed. No matter how strong we had become, a single bite would turn us into zombies. We’d end up like the cult leader. This was the safest way to confirm whether zombies were present and whether any people remained. A living person would leave traces or make noise anyway.

We continued our cautious exploration.

The bunker was enormous. Every twisting section held living quarters, kitchens, generator rooms, or separate workshops.

“Oh, Oppa. This is…”

“What?”

“Hydroponics! They really went all out…”

There was even a hydroponics facility, though it wasn’t running and looked broken. The residential area was large enough to house the entire population of both Building 1 and Building 2. If the zombies hadn’t rampaged out of control so quickly, would everyone have made it here? Would we have?

It didn’t matter. Our goal ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠wasn’t to explore and claim the bunker. This place was already uninhabitable. It might serve as a temporary shelter, but the bunker itself was a threat equal to the Preacher. There had to be a reason for that.

We kept moving in the same careful formation, searching for supplies. The bullet casings served as trail markers.

“The person who used this gun… must have been really skilled. They didn’t fire much.”

“…Yeah.”

From what I knew of games, rifle magazines usually held thirty rounds. Yet the casings on the floor were usually only one or two at a time. Single shots, not full auto. Professional work. Shoot, run, shoot, run. It meant they’d been hit while reloading in front of the elevator after fleeing like that. Not particularly fast, but they clearly had some form of acceleration ability. Otherwise they wouldn’t have been caught. There wasn’t much blood, either. Practically none. That bothered me too. The fact that rifle fire hadn’t worked. There was definitely something here we needed to be extremely wary of.

But what the hell was it?

While I was feeling the limits of my imagination, we finally found what we were looking for.

“Oppa, over here…”

The armory. The door was locked. Through the half-transparent glass I could see guns and ammunition inside.

“Lucky us.”

The only problem was the locked door, but that wasn’t much of an obstacle. My Strength was 9. I could literally rip the door off its hinges. After that, all I had to do was grab everything and run back to the elevator. I wouldn’t even need to fight any variants—

“Oppaaa!”

My sister’s sudden scream of pure terror made me abandon the thought instantly and spin around.

“…What the fuck is that?”

I saw an unfamiliar shape. Unfamiliar, yet sickeningly familiar. It was humanoid. But it didn’t feel overwhelmingly large or exceptional. Height was roughly the same as mine—around 180 centimeters. What stood out were the blades in its hands. A bizarrely curved blade gripped in each fist. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠From those subtly yellowish glowing blades extended something hard of the same color that covered its entire body. It looked like a knight. A knight wearing armor and wielding a sword.

The puzzle pieces clicked together. A skilled soldier—or someone close—had been running and shooting without taking a single wound. The chase had been slow but relentless, and it had ended here. Even after firing nearly a full magazine, they had been the one to fall. Agility 1 meant it wasn’t fast. It had some form of acceleration ability. And extremely high Perception.

I reflexively shoved my sister aside.

Crack!

The floor split. The moment I twisted my body, a pale trajectory left an afterimage as it brushed past. Yet it was still coming for me. Using my Advanced Grappling to barely react, I blocked with the machete.

KAAAAAAAAANG!

The metallic clash rang out. My feet left the ground. Something had struck me with tremendous force. My hands shook from the impact and my breath caught in my throat. The sheer shock had lifted me into the air. As I rolled to my feet, my sister—who I had knocked down—was already aiming the shotgun.

She pulled the trigger three times.

Boom. Boom. BOOOOOOM!

A storm of buckshot poured out. Enough to turn a human into ground meat. It should have. The Crusader was blasted backward. It was only blasted backward. No torn flesh, no spray of blood. Nothing. It simply fell, then rose again as if nothing had happened.

In that instant I understood. This bastard was at least on the same level as the Preacher. I raised my blade and pointed it at the thing.