Chapter 49
Chapter 49
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Translator: Silver Dragon
Chapter: 49
Chapter Title: The Bloody Outpost
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A deep silence settled between the two.
The stillness of the lodging bore down on Siron like a heavy pressure.
Oheon's final warning was seared into Siron's mind like a brand.
Administrator replacement.
It wasn't just dismissal. It meant death.
Only then did Siron realize.
The proposal he'd made to Oheon wasn't a contract guaranteeing survival.
It was merely a temporary reprieve for more efficient slaughter, one that could be revoked at any moment.
No one could vouch for this contract.
He truly seemed the type to kill them all if the plan failed.
Siron had already witnessed far too much with his own eyes.
In a trembling voice, Siron finally managed a reply.
"...Does that include me?"
It was a question that put his life on the line.
The final confirmation on his own survival.
Siron held his breath, waiting for Oheon's next words.
Oheon glanced back at him for a moment. Emotionless eyes stared at Siron.
Then, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, he answered.
"We'll decide that when the time comes."
An utterly cold response.
With those words, cold sweat trickled down Siron's spine.
As expected.
His mercy had its limits.
But within that coldness lay the faintest sliver of possibility.
The managers weren't guaranteed survival, but he, the chief administrator, might be an exception.
However, his position set him apart from the others, so the standards demanded of him would be higher still.
Oheon said nothing more.
That silence was like an unspoken order: Get out.
Siron bowed deeply and quietly slipped out of the lodging.
Even as he closed the door, Oheon's gaze pressing on his back felt like it was strangling him.
On his way back to his own lodging, Siron stopped in his tracks.
He stood there for a long while, staring down at his hands.
Hands trembling ever so slightly.
With these hands, he would have to save some and kill others.
Was this right? What right did he have to decide who lived and who died?
This was on a whole different level from the violence so far. Countless lives hung in the balance.
And it wasn't just for now—it was a burden on his conscience that would last into the distant future.
As long as Oheon remained at the pinnacle of this dimension.
And Siron had the feeling he might hold that position forever.
Then...
'Just trust him and follow.'
Reminding himself that was the only way to survive in this transcendent world, he hurried on.
That night, Siron didn't sleep until the late hours of dawn.
He sought out the managers one by one, in secret.
Avoiding prying eyes, meeting in dark alleys or behind deserted buildings.
He even summoned the last one, Rabupan.
Rabupan looked at Siron with a puzzled expression, as if wondering what was going on.
Everyone was seeing Siron this cautious for the first time.
But ignoring their reactions, Siron led the managers into a single lodging.
Once he'd gathered them all, he scanned the surroundings and spoke in a low voice.
"Listen carefully to what I'm about to say."
His voice was low and grave.
Siron began slowly explaining the plan Oheon had told him about.
The assault on the Zone 3 outpost, the two teams, and... the goal of the massacre.
As the shocking story unfolded, even in Siron's presence, the managers couldn't hide their expressions.
Among them, Rabupan asked in disbelief.
"...Is that really true? With our own hands... people...?"
"Hm? They're livestock. Offerings for Him."
Siron parroted Oheon's words exactly, acting as if he felt nothing.
Another manager, Daichi, spoke in a quivering voice.
"But... if the people find out, we won't get away with it either."
"They won't find out. He's already planned everything."
There wasn't a hint of hesitation in Siron's voice.
He had fully grasped Oheon's plan and accepted his role.
Seeing him like that, the managers fell silent.
The Siron before them no longer felt like a comrade.
He was a ruthless executor carrying out his master's will.
They thought refusing orders here might get them summarily executed by Siron on the spot.
The managers believed Oheon had surely granted him that authority too.
At that moment, Rabupan's face had gone deathly pale, uncharacteristic for him.
He seemed unable to accept becoming an accomplice in this brutal slaughter.
But soon, he faced reality.
To survive here, there was no choice.
"Understood."
Rabupan's voice trembled faintly as he replied.
Before leaving, Siron left them with final words.
"And remember this. If the plan fails, we all die."
With that, Siron vanished into the darkness.
The managers left behind stood frozen, staring at each other's faces.
And though it was already in the past,
while Siron was explaining the plan,
their reactions had varied.
Some, like Rabupan, were horrified; others just nodded silently.
And some... even seemed intrigued by the plan.
But they all reached the same conclusion.
An order they couldn't refuse.
They were all fragile beings before Oheon's absolute power.
And so, a new morning dawned in Dimension 64. A morning fated to be stained in blood.
Two hours before noon on Day 14.
A time when the artificial dawn light hadn't fully faded.
Siron assembled everyone in the village square.
As if the secret nighttime meetings had never happened, his face was as coldly composed as ever.
Right on schedule, Siron ascended the platform at the center of the square.
All eyes turned to him.
"From now on, I'll select the teams for the assault on Zone 3's Goblin Outpost."
Siron's voice echoed across the entire square.
At his declaration, murmurs rippled through the gathered crowd.
Then, drawing from the information Oheon had given him the day before, Siron began explaining the dangers of Zone 3.
"The outpost is filled with traps and powerful goblins. It will be an extremely dangerous mission."
Tension etched across the people's faces.
Siron gauged their reactions and continued.
"But we have to go. If we can't break through here, our growth will stagnate."
"Even if we fail today, that experience will be valuable for the next attempt."
He kept persuading them from the platform.
Fear mingled with faint anticipation for the new challenge, spreading through the air.
Siron's words carried a strange persuasiveness.
Most of the listeners were hot-blooded types who'd reached this transcendent world through trials, making them easy to sway.
Now down to business, Siron called out the preselected names.
"The path-clearing team..."
Including the five managers, many names were called.
Then the outpost team. Their roster included the 'ones who must die' that Siron had chosen.
The people accepted their assignments without suspicion.
Soon after, the vanguard led by the managers set out with grim determination.
The dirt path to Zone 3.
The vanguard advanced far more cautiously than before.
Following Siron's teachings, they disarmed traps and efficiently culled goblin packs, opening the way.
There were some injuries midway, but under Siron's command, they reached the outpost vicinity without major crisis.
A few sensed something off from the managers' unusual reticence but didn't voice it.
At the same time, elsewhere.
After the path-clearing team departed, only about ten remained in the square.
They were the 'outpost team' tasked with breaching it.
They waited only for the signal from the path-clearers.
Artyu was one of the outpost team members.
The night before, he'd seen his frequent mentor, senior Rabupan, assigned to the path-clearing team. Not being on the same team left him a bit disappointed.
Time passed, and finally, the promised signal flared from Zone 3.
The path was secure. The signal flares were bought jointly from the shop.
The outpost team's temporary leader, manager Horhe, shouted.
"Let's move!"
Thus, the rear guard—the outpost team—arrived.
It was right then, as the two teams were about to switch roles.
One of the vanguard managers.
Rabupan exchanged a few words with Siron, then quickly walked toward the outpost team.
And called out Artyu, who was about to join the fight.
"You. You're sitting this mission out."
Artyu stared at Rabupan in confusion.
"Pardon? But I'm on the outpost team..."
"That's an order. Follow me."
Though Artyu felt something was wrong, he couldn't defy the command.
He turned away with a regretful expression.
Just disappointment at missing the hunt.
Thus, the outpost team reformed with nine members, excluding Artyu, and headed into Zone 3.
Watching their backs, Artyu couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.
But he didn't know the nature of that unease.
That it was the hand of fate saving his life.
The outpost entrance they arrived at was eerily quiet.
Not even the goblin archers who should have been on watchtowers were visible.
Horhe, leading the outpost team, reassured his members.
"Looks like we're lucky. Guess even they have downtime."
His words eased the tension on the team's faces.
Normally, it might have raised questions, but everyone was too caught up in the moment to notice.
They were fully focused on the imminent battle.
The outpost team cautiously entered through the destroyed gate.
The interior was even quieter than expected.
Horhe kept reassuring them as they pressed forward.
"Good, at this rate, we'll hit the basement in no time!"
Buoyed by his words, the team advanced confidently.
All doubt vanished, leaving only excitement for the first breach.
They were probing deeper into the outpost when it happened.
From the dark passage ahead, something approached with heavy footsteps—thud, thud.
Thinking it a goblin, everyone reflexively gripped their weapons.
But Horhe stopped them and stepped forward.
"It's fine. One of ours."
At his words, the team lowered their guards and looked at the man.
'...Not a goblin... a person? Why...?'
Just as questions formed in their minds, the approaching man murmured softly.
With that single word, an immense pressure surged from the surrounding space, crushing everyone in an instant.
No time to react.
Their bodies began exploding under an invisible force.
Crack! Crunch!!
A one-sided slaughter, not even allowing screams.
Amid gruesome ruptures, bodies burst apart.
Flesh sprayed, bones shattered—the horrific sounds filled the outpost.
In that fleeting moment, every team member except Horhe became unrecognizable lumps of meat.
System messages from this flooded past Oheon's eyes without respite.
After that brief massacre.
Silence returned.
Oheon looked down impassively at the blood and flesh strewn across the floor. It would all turn to dust soon enough.
Then he turned to Horhe, frozen in terror from the slaughter.
Horhe couldn't even properly take in the horror before him.
Oheon said to him,
"If you don't want suspicion, you'll need some wounds."
His voice held only inhuman detachment.
The sole survivor, Horhe, returned to the village.
His body was covered in wounds, his armor torn.
Staggering as if barely alive, he collapsed in the center of the square.
"We... got wiped out..."
His desperate cry plunged everyone left in the village into shock.
Horhe tearfully testified that the outpost assault had failed miserably,
ambushed by a massive goblin force.
His vivid account, backed by his blood-soaked state, rang true.
His wretched appearance and realistic acting convinced everyone—no one doubted him.
He went on about the goblins' ambushes, unexpected traps,
and the overwhelming power of their elites.
For the next assault, he pleaded desperately for more thorough preparation and manpower.
The people didn't doubt his words.
Partly thanks to the managers already present chiming in agreement.
But mainly because everyone who had hunted in Zone 3 deeply felt its dangers.
Frustration from the failed Zone 3 breach and grief over lost comrades weighed on them.
Yet they steeled themselves for the next day's hunts.
Siron watched it all, inwardly sighing in relief.
The plan succeeded perfectly.
Afterward.
Days 14, 15, 16...
And Day 17 arrived.
The tragedy repeated daily.
Each day, an outpost assault team formed, and each day, only one survivor returned.
Still, the sacrifices continued.
Under the banner of growing stronger.
People died, but new recruits filled the gaps.
Like parts on a conveyor belt, they were used up and replaced.
Anyone showing the slightest suspicion was added to the next outpost team's list.
And after the third day's outpost team, they decided to halt further assaults.
Under Siron and the managers' lead, opinion shifted to the losses being too great, postponing outpost runs after that day.
The process felt entirely natural. No more doubters remained.
Of course, the real reason assaults stopped was gathering 27 Soul Origins.
And all those sacrifices fueled just one person's growth.
Afternoon of Day 17.
In Zone 3, amid the ruins of the utterly destroyed outpost.
Oheon pulled the last Monster 100 Summon Scroll from his inventory.
"This should be enough."
As he activated the scroll,
the ground quaked, magic circles etching into it.
One by one, 100 goblins materialized atop them.
Oheon murmured softly to the summoned goblins.
The hunt began anew.
He massacred the summoned goblins, awaiting the system messages.
And finally.