Chapter 26

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Translator: MadScientist

Chapter: 26

Chapter Title: Exploration Round 2

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Frost Bio-Nuclear Eco-Zombie Isekai Gallery Apocalypse.

In this world of dog meat soup, tanghulu, and kimchi stew that's become so unrecognizable we can't even tell what flavor it is anymore, blizzards periodically ravage the land.

Eh? Isn't that blizzard always raging?

Yeah, fuck, that's true too.

It's just that this bullshit blizzard gets even more bullshit on specific days.

Back when survivors banded together to form tiny societies, they called this the unstable period—

"Fuck. Fucking fuck."

I don't know, and right now it just sucks.

Not just sucks—it's fucking balls deep in suckage.

Every step I take, my feet sink right in deep.

At this point, I can't tell if I'm walking or just burying myself alive.

I've got combat boots wrapped with crampons and all, but it's questionable if that even matters.

I'm seriously regretting strutting out here during this time.

Still, there's a reason I chose this timing.

First off,

"Yeah, fuck. If it's shit for me, it's shit for the mutants too."

This ragtag blizzard isn't some targeted attack just dumping on my shelter alone.

It's a 9th-circle blizzard disaster blanketing the entire Gangwon Province area.

Naturally, mutants get caught in this brutal snowstorm too, restricting their movements.

In particular, the ones that don't move much until humans approach often end up buried in snow and freezing to death.

This shitty Frost Apocalypse is fair to everyone.

And second.

This is actually the most important one—

The mutants' evolution speed seems way faster than I predicted.

I already knew mutants kept mutating nonstop.

That's why we call them mutants and grade them as Type 1, Type 2, and so on.

Once they occupy a human city, further evolution there was inevitable.

If they've overrun someone else's front and back yards, of course they're gonna lay down creep and expand.

Teching up the tree after that was somewhat expected too.

In a ruined world, nothing's more dangerous than optimism, so I predicted their evolution as pessimistically as possible.

But their evolution speed blew past even that pessimistic estimate.

I felt it bone-chillingly last time.

A Type 2 mutant that was big boss for a village was barely holding one building.

This means the mutants' power creep has skyrocketed behind my back.

Fuck... what is this, Zimbabwe hyperinflation for evolution?

Anyway.

That worry made me think I need to move even one second faster.

The gallery folks warned that even if mutants seem inferior now, their strategic use of 'Ether' means their future potential is blindingly high.

In other words, beat them while I can—or at least, I need meta-awareness of the current situation.

That's right. I was the SCV Unyielding Magic Sword!

Saying it out loud, that sounds like shit. This is definitely gonna end with me scouting and exploding, right?

Ugh.

It's so fucking cold, all sorts of random thoughts pop up.

But while lost in those stray thoughts, I'd reached the city entrance.

A snow-blanketed landscape.

I snapped a selfie with it as backdrop and tossed it to the gallery.

While prepping for the exploration, I learned something.

The gallery vets have life hacks that are no joke, thanks to all their years surviving.

I figured peak experts wouldn't care about a lowlife like me,

but they actually passed down all sorts of golden tips.

Take Black Sky, who's basically in a snowy hellscape herself—she taught me how to improvise gear for winter survival.

Like tearing up thick curtains to make a balaclava,

or wrapping hot stones in packaging for a portable hand warmer,

or ripping tarps to block moisture.

She showed me everything doable with scraps.

The bandit bros were the same.

Green Forest King looks like a Mountain D. Heegma from his nick, but he's actually one of the gallery's top stand-up guys and a learned one at that.

Uses polite speech with everyone, respects newbies like me.

His nick checks out from past posts—he's a legit bandit king,

and from his tough starting route, he knows all about crafting essential gear for remote mountain scouting.

Got the sub-weapon tips from trap weapon expert Sickle Bro too.

Like tying a string to an emergency hammer for retrieval,

linking two stones for a bola,

making sling ammo from scrap leather—all his ideas.

Makes the gallery folks seem amazing all over again...

This wasn't sarcasm; it was genuine.

I thought I'd toughened up plenty surviving this hellhole,

but these guys were a cut above.

The gallery's all laughs and banter, but their backstories must be anything but ordinary.

Motivated by their experiences, I entered the city's outskirts.

A landscape that makes you question if this is Korea or Siberia.

Right at the entrance, a mutant statue welcomes me...

"Grraaah... ughhh..."

"Ah, fuck, you scared me!"

Not a statue—a real mutant?!

The falling snow had frozen it solid, but as I entered detection range, it started groaning and reacting.

But the mutant's movements were too slow.

Slower than my Heavenly Mechanism Calculation Method could even trigger—slow enough I could see and dodge.

"Too slow."

I sidestepped its hand, then drove a front kick straight into its gut.

One hit, and the frozen belly shattered like glass.

Splat—

Thanks to the thick snow cushioning, the corpse rolled without even a death screech, meeting a pathetic end.

Stuff like this is a breeze now.

Hard to believe this is the same Unyielding Magic Sword who was dueling Type 1s to the death a month ago.

No point making a fuss over this level anymore—I looted the Ether from the corpse and bounced quick.

Let's see.

I pondered while walking.

This exploration's goal is pure human SCV.

Recon's the main mission, so no need for flashy fights.

Scraping up scraps is still profitable, so the op plan boils down simple.

Connect the dots—short hops only.

Not pushing straight through, but setting waypoints: find next spot from there, hop again.

First priority: starting point.

Nothing beats this place.

I entered the shop building from last exploration's soul-clashing Type 2 showdown.

Old haunts are best—terrain's familiar.

No way new mutants nested here in just a month,

and sure enough, floors 1 through 5 showed no signs of passage.

"Evolution's fast, but changes are slow—classic mutants."

Works in my favor.

I set up a temp camp on the floor right below the rooftop where I grilled that Type 2 last time, thawing my frozen body.

Peeking at the city en route? Not good.

Snowfall so heavy over days or weeks it's reshaped the terrain.

Some buildings expose raw flesh blobs belching weird heat,

but more are blanketed.

Snow piled like walls means old roads are now dead ends.

Still, upsides exist.

"At this point, suspicions arise."

Flesh walls blanketing downtown.

Thought it was just mutant creep, but some spots thin, others thick.

Any post-apoc survivor would think it.

"Something's up. Either something's building where it's thick, or thicker flesh grows over built things."

Past five years, I suspected but never dared check.

Probing that means diving into mutant swarms—what guts?

But now I have the power to check, and the leeway for side glances at anomalies.

"Time to scout."

Scout bases: thin flesh walls. Scout points: thick flesh walls.

Knowing that binary split is already good news.

Nodding satisfied at my gains—

"...Huh?"

Scanning nearest scout point, something grotesque caught my eye.

The thickest flesh-walled building nearby—its rooftop edge shimmering like an aura.

Thought my eyes were shaking, rubbed them, but the flesh kept wriggling no matter what.

Fuck, what's that? I focused my sight,

Wriggle wriggle—!

Now blatantly pulsing.

No, not just pulsing.

Wriggle—

Flesh converging on one spot.

It swelled up like rising dough,

and finally.

Riiip—!

"Ah."

A massive... extremely massive flower bloomed.