Chapter 322
Chapter 322
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 322
Chapter Title: 129. Voice (2)
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Necromancers are indeed vulnerable in close combat.
They're the type I've hunted the most up close—the professor's primary prey.
But if you ask whether they're pushovers, I'd say no.
Most of my kills happened when they weren't prepared, when I could seize the first strike.
A necromancer's true value shines not in defense, but in offense.
In large-scale urban battles, one herding thousands of zombies and sweeping through like a whirlwind is a threat on par with mid-to-large monsters.
And right now, a well-prepared necromancer was advancing on us like a shepherd of the dead, leading thousands of zombies.
Wooooooh—
Thousands of zombies staggered down the road toward us.
Clothes frozen in time from the past, faces that looked vaguely familiar.
They were once people who breathed the same city air as us, living ordinary lives.
Now puppets of monsters, despite differences in appearance, clothing, or registered addresses, they moved as one toward us—the living.
"Zombies incoming!"
Tat-tat-tatang!
Guns from the lined-up soldiers around us spat fire.
Commanders ordered their men to conserve ammo and aim carefully, but with countless zombies bearing down, how many could really pick off one headshot at a time?
Tat-tat-tatang!!
Despite the warnings, every soldier emptied their 30- or 25-round magazines in seconds.
That bill would come due to their leader, Kim Byung-chul—or ultimately themselves—but wasn't it a small price compared to their lives?
Onrushing zombies dropped one by one, but zombies knew no fear.
Like the song about stepping over comrades' corpses, the already-dead trampled fallen zombies and crashed into our lines like waves.
Roooar—
Humans countered with every means at their disposal.
Fire had always been an effective weapon against zombies, traditionally speaking.
Especially in India, where zombies were most threatening, the poor had burned them—and themselves in the end—to close out their impoverished lives.
Of course, some still broke through the wall of flames.
Clang—
Soldiers armed with reinforced plastic riot shields and iron-spiked batons formed ranks like medieval infantry.
These were the anti-zombie specialists.
They held the front line, blocking zombies that slipped through the gunfire.
Uwaaaaaah!!!
Zombies slammed into the shield wall like waves.
Thud!
Clang!
Shields pushed as one, while batons and blunt weapons crushed zombie skulls.
"First wave looks done. But another one's coming."
Cheon Young-jae, watching from a nearby building rooftop, reported via communicator.
Drones were rarely used in major monster battles anymore.
After bitter lessons shared from China, most monsters reacted sharply to drones buzzing like flies in the sky.
Back when drones were cheap human substitutes, they could be tossed lightly—but now, with production halted, they were precious assets not to be wasted.
"Shepherd's position?"
Shepherd was slang for a necromancer in these situations.
"That bank building with the huge hole in its gut. Across the street. You won't see it from there."
"About 400 meters?"
"Probably."
"Density?"
"Packed tight. Better not go. We'll have to hold out one more time."
The biggest reason necromancers were a pain in large urban fights was their demand for straightforward attrition from humans.
That cost was steep even pre-war standards, but in these scarce times, it could bankrupt a warlord.
"This... has no end in sight."
We couldn't blame Kim Byung-chul's subordinate for whining.
Survival was at stake for them too.
Was there anything more useless than an army without ammo?
Truth be told, only Kim Byung-chul and I grasped the deeper meaning of this battle.
The rest didn't understand its significance.
Avoiding monsters was common sense now anyway—no surprise there.
Most soldiers here, and the refugees clustered under that leaning apartment, didn't get why we weren't retreating.
Maybe they were right.
But I needed to draw out that unknown signal from the Necropolis, and Kim Byung-chul didn't want small monsters nesting around his hidden assets.
Moving monsters were far easier to hunt than settled ones, and for Kim Byung-chul, who'd staked his political fate on those assets, there were probably ambitious plans to build a new settlement around them.
That mutual interest led to battle, but I didn't want Kim Byung-chul crumbling too fast.
"Mind if I borrow some sturdy rope?"
A little risk was necessary.
"Pardon? Rope? What for?"
I pointed at the gutted building in response to the sharp officer's question.
"Looks like taking it out myself is the better play."
"Weren't you asking us to handle the zombies?"
"Yeah, but at this rate, it'll never end."
Whatever could be done, had to be.
Bang! Bang!
Tat-tat-tang!
With support from Cheon Young-jae, Defender, and a handful of elite soldiers, I reached the building via a detour and climbed the steep stairs.
Vision was blocked either way, but the monster with innate detection sensed us, sending waves that herded thousands of zombies our way.
Dozens of zombies surged up the stairs at once.
Boom!
I blew the only entry—the stairs—with pre-planted explosives.
"Isn't this a bit reckless?"
Cheon Young-jae asked with a grin.
"Once Kim Byung-chul's ammo runs dry, everything gets reckless."
"Fair point. No need to worry about that guy, though."
"Cover me."
Two reasons.
First, necromancers were weak up close—guaranteed kill for me.
Second, when a necromancer died, its zombies lost control, no matter how many.
I raced across the abandoned floor littered with dust, debris, and shattered glass, finally spotting the monster beyond the building.
Thud!
I locked onto the grayish beast.
I looped the rope around exposed rebar amid the broken concrete and leaped.
Whoosh—
Wind whipped past.
Once, such wind, rushing scenery, and falling sensation lulled me to sleep.
Not anymore.
With sharper focus than ever, I glared at the rapidly approaching monster and drew my two axes.
Shing—
My faithful companions, ever constant.
One day they'd rust, break, become unusable—but until then, more monsters to fell.
Chop!
The axe bit into gray flesh.
No pain meant no scream, no reflex—the monster slowly turned, seeking its attacker.
Chop! Chop!
But the logging had begun.
Uwaaaaaah—
The real threat: zombies swarming from all sides.
Countermeasures in place.
Bang! Bang! Tat-tat-tang!
Cheon Young-jae, Defender, and a few soldiers on the roof picked off zombie heads with the "careful aim" the frontline officer had ordered.
Unhindered, the axes gained momentum, moving faster.
And then...
"......"
The monster crumpled lifelessly, its body dissolving into scattering particles.
As the fleeting golden particles dispersed beautifully, a thought flashed through my mind.
What were these particles?
What did they mean?
Where did they go?
Did they spread as spores to accelerate erosion, like old theories? Or fulfill some unknown role?
Above all, did these particles hold any will?
Distant gunfire chased away my inner questions.
I spoke into the communicator.
"Shepherd down."
No response.
I added for clarity.
"Conserve ammo. Over."
One worry lifted.
The next approacher: dancer types, easy prey.
For the soldiers, not me.
*
During a brief lull, I headed to The Hope's underground parking garage.
Quite the spectacle unfolded.
Soldiers and refugees swarmed the warehouse, freely looting supplies.
With monster hordes approaching en masse, no need to fear Woo Min-hee's watchful eyes anymore.
Among the crowd, a familiar face.
"Hey~ Skelton~!"
m9.
Beside him, a man and woman hid their faces with cloth and hoods, heads bowed.
I chuckled.
Probably Ji Chang-su and Younghee.
No mind-reading, but they'd want to throttle m9 right now.
Desperate to hide their identities, yet this clown yapping beside them.
Not my business.
I waved lightly and entered the garage.
Soldiers saluted as I passed.
A sight impossible before.
Hey, I saved them thousands of rounds—fair recompense.
My destination: the warehouse depths, guarded by soldiers and forklifts hauling goods.
Beyond drone and sentry gun wreckage piled like scrap, a large truck was parked deep inside.
"Necropolis reception proceeding smoothly."
Valentine greeted me with a smile.
He handed me a phone.
"Check this out."
Post-war, phone antennas rarely filled outside Seoul-Incheon, where networks held.
Elsewhere, phones were cameras, journals, maps, entertainment—portable computers.
Mine too—never visited those areas, always zero bars.
But now...
"Hm?"
Bars appeared.
Signal acquired.
"What's this?"
I'd felt guilty toward Valentine.
But now, I could shelve that guilt.
"The voice of the dead!"
Valentine alternated between dashboard and monitor, voice unusually excited.
"That magical network building its own server has finally hit Korea!"
"Can't use it yet, right?"
"Yeah. Needs more digging. What to call it—waves? Necropolis energy like radio waves must saturate for proper comms."
Valentine hammered the keyboard, eyes bloodshot on the monitor.
"......The more I look, the more amazing. Looks like plain radio waves, yet it emulates a server."
He was immersed.
Enjoying it.
Otherwise, he'd have left John_nenon long ago.
His faded photo showed ten people—only him left.
Words I wanted to say.
That "innovation" he saw might not be pure human genius.
Building massive servers on radio waves alone? Absurd.
No genius creates from nothing.
His believed revolution might be the monsters' voice.
Why else were they coming now?
"Hunter Park! Hunter Park! Emergency! Emergency!"
Soldiers urgently called me on the communicator.
"How much longer?"
I asked Valentine.
"A day. Sooner, maybe."
I nodded, giving the vehicle a final once-over.
An 8-ton trailer loaded with massive broadcast gear.
Power cables linked to what looked like high-capacity batteries—limited, but independent broadcasting possible.
"......Got it."
I memorized the trailer's appearance and headed back to the battlefield.
There, the greatest anticipated threat advanced slowly but surely.
Pretorian type.
Humanity's nemesis, alongside colossal Kraken types, that ended India's kill zone.