Chapter 165
Chapter 165
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 165
Chapter Title: 80. Breed (4)
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Of course, the academy had training courses for interpersonal combat.
This was largely thanks to my mentor, Jang Gi-yeong.
Other instructors argued that since we were preparing for monster battles, there was no need to learn anti-personnel tactics. But Jang insisted that hunters must be capable of carrying out missions in any situation, and he preserved the interpersonal combat training.
His judgment proved wise time and again during my long years in China.
At first, we only dealt with monsters comfortably. But as time passed, we had to devote much more effort to another kind of enemy: hostile humans.
I could understand the rebels' position.
The Chinese government had designated entire monster outbreak zones as war areas, trapping people inside like luggage, neither allowing them to leave nor rescuing them.
I didn't witness it myself, but collective massacres of innocent civilians happened frequently.
The concept of mutation factors wasn't fully established back then, but there was plenty of data showing zombies and mutations appearing around people in outbreak zones. That's what led to those atrocities.
In the increasingly grim battlefield, we carried out several operations against humans as well.
They weren't as routine or frequent as Defender's missions, but the rebels we faced were armed with tanks and heavy weapons seized from the military, and they'd fortified entire city blocks into fortresses.
And yes, many of my comrades died in those pointless battles.
"When will the reinforcements arrive?"
The most important factor was numbers.
Mentalists like Jang Gi-yeong emphasized quality over quantity, but numbers were always a solid insurance policy.
One more person on our side meant one more rifle, one more pair of eyes and ears.
"...They were attacked on the way to Incheon, so they're significantly delayed. They're sending helicopters right away, but that's not going smoothly either. In this situation, where mortar rounds could drop on the airstrip any moment."
Assistant Manager Jang stammered.
"So, precisely when?"
"They won't make it by tonight."
We had to hold out for the night.
I stood in the shadows by the entrance and looked up at the sky.
Four were visible to the naked eye.
No, there was one more in the distant sky.
A drone overlooking our entire base.
This wasn't some ordinary raider.
At best, a gang with heavy equipment. At worst, a Legion faction detachment.
"If they're Legion, we should surrender."
I suggested it seriously.
The pilots showed resentment, but only briefly.
As soldiers, they knew the truth better than anyone.
There was no chance of winning, even one in ten thousand, against a well-trained elite unit with superior gear.
This wasn't a fight one murder bot could handle.
Soon, the drone's owner revealed himself.
That frivolous tone ruled out Legion.
The worst possibility was averted.
But the situation hadn't improved.
"I saw the mark on that drone..."
The co-pilot squinted, trying to recall the scene.
"That one. Yeah. King. The massive gang based in Sejong City. They had their mark on it."
"What kind of mark?"
"A roaring tiger."
The co-pilot sketched it on the floor right there.
"Something like this."
One of Sergeant Jang's kids nearby snickered.
"Looks like a cat."
The kids whispered and giggled among themselves. One of them was the boy I'd beaten badly earlier. When our eyes met, he didn't look away—instead, he grinned.
"..."
Definitely not ordinary kids.
"What do we do?"
I asked the pilots and researchers.
If they were a gang, surrender was off the table.
Legion might offer Geneva Convention-like treatment, but gangs had no such mercy.
They'd just mock, humiliate, torture, and kill.
The best you could hope for was enslavement.
For once, my thoughts aligned with everyone else's.
"No one's come out of King's clutches looking good. Word is, they turned an old baseball stadium into a coliseum, toss in a mutation, and throw people in to fight."
Everyone agreed to fight.
The question was how.
"All we can do is hold out as long as possible and wait for reinforcements."
The captain's words were the straightforward approach.
Our combat personnel: me, two pilots, and the combat robot. Meanwhile, King's crew from Sejong had come with multiple vehicles and fighters.
But I couldn't follow that plan 100%.
Unlike monster fights, against humans, you needed an ace up your sleeve.
Otherwise, the battle would play out exactly as the stronger side predicted.
"Hold on. I'll scout around."
Terrain familiarity was basic basics.
I had to check meticulously for any possible entry points.
We could use them to escape, but if the enemy slipped in through one, it would be thousands of times more disastrous.
And entry points weren't just doors—pipes, septic tanks, vents, every literal hole leading inside.
While I scouted the interior, a minor commotion arose.
Sergeant Jang's kids.
I had no choice but to put them in the same room as the chosen kids.
No matter how unwelcome they were, I couldn't leave them on the freezing floor without sleeping bags in -10°C weather.
"No, even so, mixing the future of Korea with those kids?"
The researchers rebelled.
But the pilots, true to their military mindset, prioritized efficiency over breedist views.
"Better to keep them all in one place. What if one of those kids sides with the enemy?"
"We should've just disposed of them."
Even in front of the kids, Assistant Manager Jang didn't watch his mouth.
In the ticking urgency, I found one exit.
A ladder and manhole exit drilled for electrical work.
It led behind the ruined hangar, concealed by debris.
This could serve as an emergency route.
Of course, the enemy could use it to invade, but it seemed like a matter of time.
"One thing I'm curious about."
I asked Assistant Manager Jang.
"Are any of those kids combat-capable?"
He shook his head.
"They haven't received combat training yet. We've only confirmed their potential. Training's at the Guard on Jeju Island."
"I see."
I gathered everyone.
"...I'm thinking a surprise attack like this."
I explained my plan.
In short: Use the combat robot as the mainstay to hold as long as possible, drawing the enemy's attention to the straight corridor. Then I loop around via the emergency passage and hit their rear.
"First, we need to gauge their numbers."
I looked down the ridgeline from the entrance.
The attackers soon appeared.
Two military trucks and one jeep.
Using Republic of Korea military gear, but the riders were raiders.
"King, huh..."
I first learned of that gang leader on Viva! Apocalypse!
A guy named CrunchRoll, surrounded by multiple women.
I'd thought we might cross paths someday, but not that he'd send goons to my front yard.
"About 30, I'd say."
I told the pilot their approximate size.
"That's a lot."
The captain furrowed his brow.
Definitely too many.
Four vehicles, 30 men.
Our side, including the robot, was about that number.
No way we could pull off a surprise attack.
If I stepped away, the front line might collapse entirely.
Guess the only thing to rely on was the combat robot after all.
"Shit, we're cursed. Cursed, I tell you. This is why we shouldn't have let mutts in!"
"Hey! Call for backup! You want to see Korea's future lost?!"
The researchers panicked.
Assistant Manager Jang spewed abuse at Sergeant Jang's kids, while Assistant Manager Jo hysterically yelled into the radio.
The situation was graver.
We had no food immediately.
Due to the flight, they hadn't brought much.
We'd go hungry starting dinner tonight.
I had emergency rations in the motorcycle, but the rest would sleep on empty stomachs in -10°C cold.
And we had to hold for a day in this state.
Maybe two, but everyone knew even tonight would be tough.
Should I just escape alone?
I could probably survive somehow.
I'd have to abandon the motorcycle, but it wasn't worth more than my life.
"..."
As I pondered, commotion erupted behind me.
"We need to kill them all right now!"
It was Assistant Manager Jang.
He was heading into the kids' room with his pistol drawn, blocked by Assistant Manager Jo.
"This happened because of those things! Because of those mutts!"
His mind was weaker than I'd thought.
He rampaged, trying to kill Sergeant Jang's kids.
But those kids weren't pushovers either.
"Let us fight too."
"We know how to shoot. For real. We've killed a few people."
An adult was screaming he'd kill them right in front of their faces, but they weren't cowed—instead, they crowded the door, begging to fight.
"Raiders' kids, so of course they know guns."
The captain let out a wry chuckle.
"Maybe Assistant Manager Jang's right—not a bad idea to kill them. They could be in league with King. Bait tactics are an old gang standby, aren't they?"
The co-pilot eyed the kids pleading at the window with deadly intent.
If left alone, he'd really shoot.
"Those kids have no connection to King."
"You've been defending them since earlier."
The co-pilot glared at me suspiciously.
"Any relation?"
"No. I nearly died because of them too. But they live nearby."
"Nearby?"
"Yeah, I know. They're from the trailer park."
"Then isn't removing them here even better?"
The co-pilot switched his control stick from safe to semi-auto.
"No. No need to kill them."
He switched back to safe and stared at me.
"Are you... soft on people or something?"
"Can't say I've heard that much."
"Hope nothing happens."
The co-pilot walked away.
But it didn't seem his suspicions were fully dispelled.
If Sergeant Jang's kids did anything remotely suspicious, he'd turn his gun on them all.
Because they were "mutts," not "purebreds."
I looked toward the kids' room.
My eyes met those of a scrawny girl with her face pressed almost flat against the glass.
She screamed at me.
"You said they're a gang, right? I hate gangs! I don't wanna go back under those bastards again! Let us fight! I don't care if I die!"
Her eyes startled me a bit.
For a fleeting moment, it felt like she was looking into my eyes.
Half-lidded with tears that seemed ready to evaporate, blazing with ferocious hatred.
*
In the not-so-spacious room, two kinds of kids were confined.
Here, pet shop categories fit better than sociobiological ones. One side: the so-called "purebreds."
"I'm hungry. How long do we have to stay here?"
"Hungry. Cold. Where's Mom?"
"Researcher! I hate it here. I wanna go out."
"No!!! I wanna leave!!!!!!!!"
These kids endlessly cried, complained, even screamed their discomfort. Classic tantrums.
On the opposite side, huddled tight without heater warmth or sleeping bags: the "mutts." Kids with no abilities the nation needed, stained by murder and crime—troubled youth.
Yet they were utterly different from the purebreds.
"..."
"......Cold?"
"...Hoo."
Starving, unfairly treated, under death threats—they didn't shed a tear, just impassively let time pass with stoic faces.
To me, they seemed more human.
My eyes met one of theirs.
The boy I'd thrashed.
He stared at me, then grinned.
"Let us fight too."
He said.
"I know I deserved the beating. So I won't shoot you in the back."
There was no time to respond.
The moment of truth had arrived.
*
In any battle, the first move is crucial.
The damage inflicted in the initial clash can completely determine the outcome.
Ambushes and surprises maximize that first shock.
"Let's wait."
Lights flickered beyond the dark corridor.
Raiders' lanterns, nervously sweeping the shadows.
Fire? Let them try.
This was a U.S. military bunker.
Bigger exhaust systems than mine.
The lantern lights retreated and vanished.
The captain, watching the entrance from the opposite door, smacked his lips regretfully.
"Could've nabbed a couple."
He looked at me.
"You said you have tons of combat experience. Can I trust that?"
"Yes. You can."
After a brief silence, a crude mechanical whir approached.
A drone.
Trying to peer inside with its light.
I signaled the pilots.
They slipped into rooms, shut doors, and hid.
I quietly closed the door of my hiding spot, checking the drone's position through the outer window.
It flew straight at us, then banked toward the entrance.
The moment it vanished, I silently opened the door and aimed at the entrance again.
Something murky loomed in the dimness.
No night vision or Awakened senses needed to know.
Raiders were coming.
Guns in hand, advancing to kill us and take everything.
The researchers stood pale and unsteady.
"Shouldn't we turn it on soon?"
Across from me, impatient soldiers.
I ignored them.
This nerve-wracking wait was an extension of reconnaissance.
Raider movements, discipline, behavior.
Info you can't get without experiencing it firsthand.
About five had entered—adept at stealthy approach.
So quiet, you'd miss it without straining your ears.
Probably ex-military pros.
Like the drone, I let them advance.
The pilots across the way fidgeted.
Skilled pilots, but ground combat wasn't their specialty.
I wanted to draw them deeper, but five was a fair trade.
I signaled Assistant Manager Jang behind me.
He nodded and pressed the remote button.
Whiiiir---
A faint mechanical hum echoed through the corridor between me and the pilots.
The murder bot, covered in white cloth.
Activated.
Soon, red lights flashed in the dark, and its steel body stirred.
The approaching raiders froze.
The leader signaled a halt.
"Hide!"
They bolted for doors lining the corridor.
One grabbed a handle and yanked.
But it wouldn't open.
"It's locked!"
As they fumbled uselessly, the murder bot's machine gun turret swiveled.
Red sensor glow, then—
Rat-tat-tat! Rat-tat-tat! Rat-a-tat-tat!
Bursts of gunfire echoed down the hall.
Screams erupted, then drowned in the shots.
Silence returned.
All intruders eliminated.
Literally culled.