Chapter 18
Chapter 18
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 18
Chapter Title: Absolute Defense Line (3)
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As everyone knows, I'm one hell of a cool-headed guy.
I don't gamble without a winning edge.
Hunter Association stock... my retirement fund... Charlotte... Ugh, my head hurts.
Anyway, point is, even reckless-me avoids foolish gambles.
So if I take a gamble, it means I've got 140% odds stacked in my favor!
'Obviously, I went all-in on this gate too.'
Zombie bomb trap-clearing fireworks show!
That was the main event of this broadcast.
"Have you all ever played shooting games as kids?"
I filled the audio while prepping the next zombie.
"Games are like this too, but when you hit a bullshit pattern where you're like 'this is so unfair~', just lob a bomb and save your coins. It's a waste if you die skimping on bombs, right?"
Oh, that? Obviously a bluff.
'Common sense: how the hell do you clear this gate with just one?'
I said it before: stating the obvious like it's breaking news grabs eyes but paints you as a con artist.
Of course, I've got an excuse to dodge the liar label.
I averted my eyes from the cam.
"Said I'd lead with one, not that I'd only use one."
"Loser? That's a bit too insulting, don't you think?"
I have zero interest in macho sweat-stinking ideologies.
But getting called a total loser gay? Hard pass.
I pulled the toughest face my pretty mug allowed.
"Real man trait: only one woman I know."
"Gotta count my girl."
Proof complete. Feel the IQ gap?
I cackled, then checked the clock.
"Anyway, 20 seconds down. 23 traps left, so about 30 seconds per one should do it."
"Not execution—funerals."
"It's fine. Company local rule."
Oh shit. Momentum's tanking.
To play the victim card, now's the time to lay low!
I quickly redirected viewer attention.
"Corpse Explosion."
Nothing grabs attention like an explosion sound.
BOOM-!! The zombie charging the trap detonated on impact.
Trap shards scattered like cherry blossoms.
"Said I'd blow 23 more— that's your warning?"
I grinned, but inside I was burning up.
'Blood Bats leave no traces after exploding.'
Sob sob, my precious drops. Getting wrecked again.
Today's mana stones barely break even at best.
But can't be helped.
Early business means expenses are par for the course.
'Least I can even attempt this.'
Average summoners couldn't pull this even if they wanted.
Pity for summons? No way.
You must not know the Hunter Association yet.
If gates are true disasters, our Association would bait with live humans no problem.
'But only I can actually do it.'
Not ethics or sympathy.
A more fundamental flaw.
'Powerful summons have long cooldowns.'
Hours-long cooldowns—unsummon and you can't resummon mid-broadcast!
To crack Absolute Defense Line traps, you need those heavy-hitters as bait.
Weak summons can't smash traps.
'Like sacrificing your queen for a pawn in chess.'
Bet by halfway cleared traps, that summoner loses all summons.
Plus, no summons = useless sack in combat.
Makes sense: summons wrecked on traps, what're you gonna do?
Sit munching popcorn in boss fights.
Better slot a trap guy in the party.
'That's why summon bait trap-clear got abandoned.'
But there's a similar desperate measure.
'Exception: Necromancer's Corpse Explosion.'
That's what I'm using now.
Undead corpse bomb divine technique!
Like bombing mountains or tunneling—obliterate every gate trap.
'Zombies can bulldoze traps like this.'
Corpse Explosion packs trap-shattering power.
Self-destruct amps the damage.
No cooldown worries either.
'My zombies? Just 5-min cooldown.'
One summon = 10 zombies, 5-min CD.
'30 seconds per on refill average.'
Lead with weak undead, trigger trap = boom.
Cooldown-free trap-busting.
BOOM!!! BWOOOM-!!!
Zombie blasts swept traps aside helplessly.
Later traps withstood some blasts.
So what?
BWOOOOOM-!!!
One won't crumble? Second corpse explosion.
Still? Third time's the charm.
RUMBLE BOOM-!!
Relentless blasts overwhelmed even Blood Bats scrambling to flee.
"See? Super easy. Copy away, folks."
Zombies popping amid my cheery grin.
"If you've got bombs to spare like me."
Remember Necromancer downsides?
Most undead revive corpses.
Corpse Explosion needs... corpses first.
Expensive monster byproducts at that.
'No way in hell. Digging up money from the dirt?'
Average monster corpse pricier than prime beef.
Burn those on one-use bombs?
Money-burning at its finest.
Even rotting corpse piles wouldn't tempt most.
'Lighting cash on fire—spectacle though.'
Billions torched per gate?
Nah, real bombs might be cheaper.
Hunters can't source explosives easy though.
Broadcast live explosives? Signaling surrender to cops?
'Corpse Explosion strat = pipe dream.'
Pipe dream.
Or: beyond common sense antics.
I.e., batshit insane.
'My patented move.'
Viewers of this stream: abandon common sense.
I spread my arms and yelled.
"Art is an explosion!"
BOOM-!!
Endless zombie bomb refills nuked every trap.
Buildings crumbled, decorations shattered and flew.
Explosion science: pinnacle of human wisdom.
If bombs pierce mountains, why spare a dungeon?
'This fireworks show is humanity's pioneering spirit.'
Thus, the boss room revealed itself.
"Dogshit arrival. See it, folks?"
Quick correction bulletin.
Zombies wrecked it so entrance invisible.
"Fuck!! You zombie bastards!! Can't you explode cleanly!!"
I ignored the idiots, wiped my sweat.
Labor sweat felt good.
About two drops.
"Phew. No casualties at least—thank goodness."
Absolute Defense Line.
E-rank gate's trashiest dungeon.
Mob line: cleared.
Traps: all collapsed.
Boss room: entry imminent.
15 minutes from broadcast start.
RUMBLE-.
Zombies cleared door-blocking debris.
The locked door? Blown wide open.
All hail bomb power, folks.
"Nah. Potion chug and straight in."
Ad break? I'd rest.
No ads? Why rest.
I'm still small-time; Unity slaps on random ads.
No pay, no reason to drag work hours. Passion pay? Only my summons would negotiate like that.
"Sheesh. You clueless folks—bomb handling drains mental energy too."
"You ever used mana? Blown undead?"
F-rank and below backseat banned. No experience? Zip it.
Magic words blocking 99% of humanity.
"Damn right. Clueless backseaters—if I had a manager, 30-min chat bans."
Technically Unity manager exists.
But need a dedicated one eventually.
Anyway, boss time.
Time to crack open saved potions.
'Thanks, sponsors.'
Pop! Mana recovery potion opened.
'Fancy potion—bottle's premium.'
Sipping while eyeing the vial.
Quality stuff, low-grade potion category.
Still, potions cost more than fine wine.
If self-bought, I'd rage-jump.
'Streaming's no overtime but no pay either—problem.'
Why does more work empty my wallet? Capitalist ghost forcing me into pure hero role.
Guess no OT, no dough.
Worker rights? Lupin labor era.
"Hit a herbal shop, ask for the bitterest tonic pack—similar experience."
"Cut the bullshit, folks. If this is tea time, then 40-50yo reservists cracking red ginseng post-meal is too?"
"We're closer to dwarves than nobles."
This the chat gate raiders should see?
'World's shittiest tea time fr.'
Downed potion, chased with plum tea rinse.
Plum tea: my second fave drink.
Stockpiled at home, guzzle like water.
First? Beer, duh. Why ask.
Rinse done, loosened wrists.
"Recovery complete. Entering boss room."