The Scout's Proposal
There's no familiar morning sunlight like in the old days, but it's easy to tell that a new day is starting.
Just like usual, the tax thief death row inmates get up from their beds and stream out towards the washroom and dining hall.
“Such a day as to be perfect for someone to kick the bucket.”
The best thing about using a spacious single cell alone is that I don't have to listen to other people's snoring, and there's no worry of being ambushed while sleeping.
Even with that, it's already in the top 0.1% of death row life, so complaining would be a luxury.
But it's just a bit regrettable that there are no more bunkmates to serve as my alarm clock anymore.
“The criminal guys' double bunks also seem no different from yesterday. Tomorrow will be the same.”
No, precisely, only the ones who survive today will see the same double bunks tomorrow.
Crack.
Thanks to the Beta Fluid, my strength has been massively boosted, so even though I just stretched a bit, there's power surging through me.
After lightly loosening up in front of the mirror, I immediately opened the cell door and walked out, only for the familiar-but-unfamiliar neighbors to brush past me with disgusted expressions.
All inmates must be sent to the Dark Zone at least once a week or face a fatal penalty, and today was the last day of the first week.
The guys who have been holding out without being sent to the Dark Zone so far are probably starting to feel the urge to shit themselves.
To avoid the penalty, they have to be sent to the Dark Zone, which is the difference between walking into the slaughterhouse themselves or being dragged there a bit later.
Who told them to commit crimes and come to the cell?
Even if people can't live kindly, as long as they don't live badly, half of social life is eaten up.
But if even that can't be done and they end up in the cell, maybe rotting in the cell for life is a better life.
As expected, the group of inmates walking in front of me were already complaining.
“Fuck, I haven't been able to sleep lately. If this goes on, I'll end up with a mental breakdown!”
“I'm the same. It's already unfair that I became a death row inmate overnight because of those fucking government bastards, and now I have to enter that hell at least once a week? What a joke.”
“Apparently, even the prison guards aren't taking bribes for Dark Zone assignments anymore. Those bastards are really serious.”
“Shouldn't we report this to some human rights committee or something?”
“If that were possible, the rich criminals would have done it first. But it seems impossible.”
“Damn it.”
That's exactly how it is.
Right now, every inmate in this prison who has become a death row convict can't escape this fate no matter how much money, connections, or information they pour into it.
The EFD always emphasizes the despair and helplessness that all players will be forever trapped in the Dark Zone and prison.
So there's no need to pay attention to the whining guys walking in front of me.
After all, they probably won't last long.
The ones with potential have already adapted to the Dark Zone for a long time.
Unlike the cowards who flinch at the word Dark Zone, I watch the guys moving with pride in their own skills and experience.
Those guys will become veterans if they grow strong, and old-timers if they survive for a long time.
And if they win every squeeze and finally crush everything, they'll finally rise to the scum of the underworld.
Within a month, 80% of this detention block will be filled with new inmates.
Even if you try hard, it's a month.
At the fastest, within 2-3 weeks most will die or disappear, and fresh new orange inmates will take their places.
Wow! An endless influx of crazy god games!
Thud!
I was about to move to the table with a useless thought, holding the rice bowl.
A group of inmates kicked open the door to the communal dining hall.
Somehow, it feels like this has happened before, but I hope this time it's unrelated to me.
“Is there an inmate number 75560 here?!”
Soon, a man quietly stood up. He had a tough, hardened appearance.
Unlike street thugs who have only clumsily shot guns, there's an aura of having killed people with preparation.
“I'm inmate 75560. What's the matter?”
“It seems you were with our side when we hastily formed a random squad before being sent to the Dark Zone. I heard you showed quite good skills then.”
“So?”
“Join our clan. Now that the Gwangsu Family that ruled the lowest floor has disappeared, joining a clan will be much more helpful for surviving here than a family.”
“Clan, huh. When did such a concept even appear?”
No, thinking about it, the clan system itself appears quickly, it's just that the update in the game was a bit late.
In a place where only two people fight, in a closed environment, groups form naturally.
Especially for death row, they want to join groups to survive Dark Zones.
I didn't care anyway, I only recruited one comrade named Lucy, but that guy seems to think differently.
“...It's not a bad suggestion.”
As expected, inmate 75560 nods happily in the midst of the inmates' commotion.
If the existing power structure in the prison had focused on families as the organization and power layer, now the weight is shifting to clans that stably earn income in the Dark Zone.
His choice prioritizing utility and efficiency is extremely rational.
If the conversation ended cleanly there, he would have focused on the rice bowl again.
But the guys who ride on the clan authority seem eager to show off their big backs in front of others.
Essentially, they are itching to deceive those who weren't chosen.
“Listen up, you guys who haven't received scout offers yet! While you're here whining pathetically and worrying about how to survive today, our clans have already been seeking out a sure path to survival.”
Oh, that's new to me too.
They claim they can guarantee survival in the Dark Zone?
“I heard that even the most skilled guys in the Dark Zone can lose their lives in a single mistake if they're unlucky. How can they make such bold claims?”
A brave inmate asked the core question everyone was curious about, in my place.
Then the clan member, who had been wearing a confident expression, grinned.
“It's simple. All clan members are sent to the same Dark Zone. In the process, they help each other, coordinate, and accumulate experience. If all clan members are sent to the same Dark Zone, there's no worry of betrayal, and the yield can be safely increased. They can take care of clan members with insufficient income, and give more authority to those with high income. Is that enough?”
It can't guarantee sure survival, but personally not bad.
Actually, in the EFD, people in the same community rarely die if they form fixed squads and farm stably.
But this is reality.
In front of money, no family, lover, friend, will they really sacrifice for comrades? Or at least guarantee no betrayal?
Unlikely.
Of course, clans have management for inter-member trust, but managing people becomes harder once a few gather.
Especially vicious criminals who don't listen and have a few screws loose in their heads? The clan has a high chance of dissolving before even 100 days without incident.
Well, that's not my problem.
That's their problem to figure out, and rather, I welcome the activation of clan communities.
Activating communities means there's more goods and information circulating in this underworld.
So, as long as it doesn't interfere with me...
Thud!
“Are you listening, self-proclaimed Super Rookie?”
“...”
I slammed the table hard, making the rice and soup splash, and looked at the guy without saying anything.
Then the guy starts rambling with a happy face.
“You're probably wondering why we don't scout famous people like you. You'll probably be upset inside. After all, you think you're the best among us, right?”
“It's not wrong.”
I wiped my face quietly with a tissue from the rice bowl.
Then the guy reacts more intensely.
“That's exactly it! You only had a bit of good luck, and you look down on those around you because of that! You even show off that you've never experienced group life, let alone social life!”
I have 10 years of social life, discharged as sergeant from military.
Raised in normal family, ordinary school life, had friends.
“I'll give you one piece of advice as a senior, Super Rookie.”
“Yeah? I really want to hear it.”
“If you want to live long, don't stand out too much. But you've already stood out too much. You made a big splash in H-099 detention block yesterday, right? Thanks to that, there won't be any clan left to scout you.”
“The words don't match.”
“No, it's true. Even if you join a clan, you can't expect cooperation, and you'll naturally become a public enemy. That means you're already isolated.”
I crumpled the stained tissue and dropped it in front of the guy sitting on the table.
“So is that all you have to say?”
“Of course, there's more. If you want protection, by showing some sincerity to our clan, you can safely explore the Dark Zone.”
I almost let out a laugh.
So, the guy means: we don't plan to accept you into the clan, but you'll be a target for all, so if you pay tribute, we'll look the other way.
“If you refuse?”
“Then you'll get nothing from the Dark Zone.”
Here, saying something like “What can you do?” is underhand.
They can threaten me without needing to say that, right?
“So, you're going to 'control the Dark Zone'?”
“Bingo.”
In the world I lived in, the K-MMORPG that Lindy likes often has the word “control”.
Small: control of public hunting grounds, large: control of high-difficulty dungeons.
Simply put, using PK system to interfere so that powerful and smart people don't enjoy the game's content against the weak.
So, when they say all clan members sent to same Dark Zone, it fits.
If dozens or hundreds are sent, no squad can fight them.
The clan system, which was just a community feature in game, is being used this way. He was surprised.
“But what does that have to do with it?”
“...what?”
“Even if all inmates are sent to the same Dark Zone, the starting points will be split into squad units. Moreover, even if they communicate inside the Dark Zone, without environmental knowledge to identify positions, it's useless. If scattered you guys all rush at me saying you'll control me? It would be more plausible to say you're taking a group tour in the Dark Zone.”
“You're talking nonsense. It's a method they've already fully experimented with in the first week. Other clans have also experimented many times and drawn conclusions long ago. Slowly skinning you alive in the Dark Zone is nothing.”
“Confident?”
“...”
I slowly brought my face close.
“You guys know the Dark Zone better than me, survive well, and can acquire everything you want? Seriously?”
“...Can't be helped. After all, the prison side doesn't intervene no matter what happens in the Dark Zone. Clan unit Dark Zone assignments have already received tacit permission.”
“Then do it.”
I held the chopsticks upside down.
And stabbed the back of the hand of the guy who is being careless.
Kwak!
“Kyaaaaaaa!”
The old man is seriously shaking hands, but where does he put his butt on the table arrogantly!