Chapter 21

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Translator: penny

Chapter: 21

Chapter Title: Deadly Aim

-----------------------------------------------------------------

The system said that killing a regular zombie gave 10 points.

But among the regulars, the healthy ones gave a bit more than 10,

and the injured or handicapped ones, being relatively weaker, gave a bit less.

The delivery driver zombie must have been a healthy one, since it did physical labor.

"...Oh, maybe I actually have a talent for pistol shooting...?"

It felt like I was in good form...,

like I suddenly had this burst of confidence that I could nail it...?

I kicked the zombie I'd taken down surprisingly easily, shoving it as far from the front door as possible.

But the farthest spot was the stairs, so I was kicking it down toward them... when...

"Kraaak.... Guarak...."

"Keaak.... Graaak...."

"Kuuuuh.... Gruuhk...."

"Ah, fuck."

The zombies had heard the gunshots and were swarming up the stairs toward me.

From below the stairs, from above.... All sorts of zombies from every floor were heading to my level.

"...Fuck. We're screwed...? Totally fucked...?"

"...O, Oppa! ...B-big trouble! The zombies in the neighborhood are all...! Coming toward us...!"

"...Y-yeah. ...I saw them down there too. Looks like we're fucked."

'Shit..., zombies coming at gunshots is basic knowledge in Project Zombie World....'

"Sorry. I'm such a fucking moron, I keep forgetting the really important stuff...."

"...O, Oppa. ...Y-you're joking, right? This is a prank?

You seemed so confident.... You shot because you had a plan, right...? Oppa...?"

"Nah. I didn't think much of it. Just figured I could shoot. ...Hey. Hye-jeong. I loved you.

S-sorry for the rape. ...But you were the best pussy slave.

Where the hell am I gonna find another pussy slave like you in this life...."

"Oppa....... ........ ......"

"Hye-jeong.... Ugh, it's such a waste to leave a pussy slave like you behind... .

I don't wanna die, so I'll just bail from here. Then time'll stop...... ."

I looked at Hye-jeong, promising to meet again someday, and tried to leave the first floor.

Instead of dying, I could leave the first floor, get stronger later, and come back, right?

But Hye-jeong, who'd been silently listening, cut me off mid-sentence and screamed at the top of her lungs.

"......, ..., you fucking bastard! Quit the bullshit and give me a goddamn gun!

You fucking rapist...! Talking 'pussy slave this, pussy slave that' right up to the end...!

Hey! Gimme a gun! You fucking immature prick with blood that hasn't even dried.... You think your superpowers solve everything?

You want me to just die? Fuck off...! Gimme the gun! Hand it over!"

Hye-jeong seemed to have misunderstood something and went full throttle.

Did she think I was gonna run off alone...? That's not it...

"You might survive running solo, you fucker...! But I'm gonna die, asshole...!

And from how you're slurring like you're drunk, weren't you originally 22? Ha, you fucking kid whose blood hasn't ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠dried....

I put up with you 'cause I liked getting those daily supplies, calling you Oppa and all, and now you're pissing me off to the end...."

"......, H-Hye-jeong? ...W-what's with that mouth of yours? T-to Oppa..., n-no, Master... what...?"

"Quit the crap and gimme one gun! ...Fuck! I gotta at least flail around before I die...!"

"......"

I-is this possible...?

Did that mean Hye-jeong hadn't been fully tamed by my training...?

I thought ten days of conditioning had turned her into an obedient sex slave...

So she'd just been playing along, keeping her head down until now...?

And now that death was staring her down, her true colors were showing...?

Ha ha ha..., ha ha ha...

That's why they say you never really know someone, even if you know them for ten miles along the road...

"Graaak...! Gueeak...!"

I was devastated by my training failure, wallowing in despair...,

but separately from that, as a zombie closed in, I instinctively blasted it with the Glock for a headshot.

'...Yeah, I really do seem good at this. Am I actually a shooting genius?

...Hmm, I should've tried out for the Olympics. What a waste of talent....'

The zombies were climbing the stairs in greater numbers.

At first, I'd given up completely, thinking there was no way to hold them off...,

but after popping that one zombie...

Maybe..., just maybe..., I could take them all down...?

I seemed way better with the pistol than expected.

- Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! -

In hyper focus, I stood my ground, firing at the approaching zombies,

and they all dropped with one shot—two at most—heads exploding.

- Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! -

- Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! -

No time to reload? I'd pull out the already-loaded M16 or the 7-round revolver and keep firing.

Sometimes a penetration shot would chain-kill the ones behind.

And in the process, I realized...

I wasn't just good with pistols—I was surprisingly ace with the M16 too.

'...Wait, something's off. This feels weird.... Am I really this good with guns...? When I've never even touched one before...?'

Come to think of it, I was swapping mags like a pro...,

and earlier, before fighting that zombie, I'd inspected and imported guns I'd never handled, all smoothly...

At first, I thought it was some auto-learned thing from Battlegrounds 2, but something didn't add up.

- Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! -

- Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! -

- Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! -

I'd secured some breathing room now.

Even zombies coming up from way down below—head in sight, boom.

I noticed the M16's zeroing was a tad off,

no time to adjust the sight, so I compensated on the fly...

'...Zeroing? Why do I even know that term when I haven't even done military service...?'

- Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! -

A thought flashed through my mind mid-fire.

It was the "Weapon Mastery Lv.1" skill I'd gotten from clearing the "Get 1 Kill" trial in Battlegrounds 2 on the second floor.

The description said it made me proficient with "all weapons," right?

And the guns I was using were definitely in the weapons category.

'...Proficiency with all weapons—this skill might be way better than I thought....'

Thanks to Weapon Mastery, my gunplay had leveled up.

It was still dicey—if I slipped even a little, I'd get bitten and fucked...,

but it didn't feel hopeless like before.

If I stayed cautious and picked them off one by one...

- Click, click. -

"Ah, fuck. Out ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of ammo...."

I'd burned through all my bullets.

Fuck, how many had I dropped?

I'd been efficient, nearly one kill every two shots...,

207 rounds used up...,

roughly at least 103 zombies down...

"Still a fuckton coming.... Shit..., fuck....

Hey! System! Pause this shit and send me back to the second floor!

Back to Battlegrounds 2!"

Before I even finished speaking,

I was already in the Tower lobby, that empty void space.

"Whew..., so it teleports just by thinking...? Handy as fuck for something like this...."

"Yeah. Fuck yeah. Retrying. Your voice is music to my ears. I was this close to getting chewed up by zombies."

My vision went dark.

It was that familiar sensation of being transported somewhere.

Vision blacked out, then snapped back—I was strapped into a seat on one side of a massive transport plane again.

-"Diiing~ Dingshangma~"-

-"Aww~! Fuckin' crave some chicken~! Shit~! I was 2nd last round! Motherfucker!"-

-"Ah, fuck. So goddamn loud for real." -

-" ~♬ ~♬"-

-"Whoa..., there's always that one guy blasting songs...."-

-"Come on, everyone! National anthem sing-along! Sing the anthem!"-

-"Ahhng♡ Ahhng♡ Haaang♡ Heung♡ Heuuung...♡"-

-"Ah, fuck. Which asshole put on porn?"-

'Hmm..., always a total shitshow in here...'

Folks trying to communicate in hard-to-understand foreign languages (probably Chinese).

Ones who love music so much they blast tunes nonstop.

Even the occasional ones sharing fine cultural artifacts (porn)... .

A real mix of people, each claiming their corner of the transport plane and cranking their sounds.

I figured I could just ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠mute it all...,

but these ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠familiar assholes' noise was kinda entertaining now and then, so I let it ride.