Chapter 31
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 31
Chapter Title: Mafia Game (3)
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It was by the skin of my teeth.
The moment something foreign snagged my ankle, I leaped back,
and to put as much distance as possible between me and it, I sprang up onto my toes.
The explosion came right after.
'Crazy, a booby trap?'
There was a booby trap hidden in my blind spot.
A tripwire at ankle height—sever it, and boom, explosion.
My ankle could've been blown clean off, but thanks to the superhuman reflexes honed by martial arts training, I escaped the blast radius.
Still, it wasn't exactly a sigh-of-relief moment.
Why?
"Who the hell are you?!"
"Intruder!!!"
"Over there!!!"
Because that fiery blast had announced the mafia's arrival to every single citizen.
The footsteps of the patrolling raiders echoed loudly, and the sleepers began stirring one by one.
'This is bad.'
I'd dodged the direct hit from the explosion, but in this confined space, the shockwave alone was brutally violent.
My ears were ringing with tinnitus—if I were an ordinary person, I might've lost my hearing temporarily.
Sensing a faint disorientation in direction, I bolted up the stairs.
"Rooftop?"
"No contact!"
"Assume they're done for. Report to the boss, send reinforcements. Alert the guys downstairs too."
I could feel the net tightening from below.
I hadn't been careless, not even a little.
This was year five post-apocalypse.
The weak were long dead.
Surviving this long proved both mental and physical toughness, so I'd expected these guys to have some chops.
Even so, getting blindsided like this meant...
'They've abandoned the upper floors entirely.'
If booby traps had been set from the rooftop down, none of this would've happened.
But they'd posted guards on the roof and left defensive gaps between the traps.
Prepping for intruders while designating rooftop guards as expendable.
In a war of attrition like this, the intruder takes the inevitable hit.
'Not just any ragtag bunch, huh.'
I couldn't jump down below.
No matter how much martial arts had toughened me up, surviving a five-story drop wasn't guaranteed.
So, either leap roof-to-roof for escape or gear up for combat—but
Thud-thud-thud!
At that moment, a bouncing noise rang out, and lights flickered on throughout the building.
Not the whole thing, of course, just parts of it,
but that was enough to banish the darkness.
And that spelled trouble for me in every way.
'They control the power plant?'
In this world, electricity was worth its weight in gold.
Whether they'd scavenged a small generator or a backup one,
being able to wire it up to the building meant they'd added other setups too.
Not just lights—other systems were likely operational.
For example,
'CCTV... yep, it's on.'
In the corner of the hallway.
A red light glowed on the cold metal box.
Tsk—
I chambered a round in the slingshot and fired.
Crack!
The projectile shattered the CCTV, but my position had probably already been relayed to the enemy.
Proof? The footsteps chasing me grew even more frantic, never fading.
Meaning, running alone wouldn't end this.
My mind raced, pulling up the optimal choice.
I selected the next move and immediately hit the Gallery's Live button.
What the heck? Live again?
Last time I checked, you only go live during fights.
Newbie. Something going on?
Another space, huh.
No time to explain each one—I set the viewpoint and kept moving.
Almost immediately, voices echoed from beyond the stairs.
"You bastard, who are you?!"
"You're surrounded. Crawl out nice and we'll kill you with all limbs intact!!"
Post-apocalyptic negotiation at its finest.
No option for mercy anywhere.
Not that anyone would believe it if there was—survivors this far weren't that stupid.
Between empty promises of life and a relatively credible "nice death," the latter rang truer.
But here's the thing.
I wasn't offering survival either.
Thud!
Fun fact.
In this urban fantasy world, the wall- and ceiling-climbing techniques I'd picked up after learning martial arts were my most practical skill.
Handy for hopping buildings, essential for infiltration, and perfect for ambushes like this, dangling from the ceiling.
I'd been plastered to the stairwell ceiling until they arrived. Then I dropped into the middle, unleashing the rifle I'd looted from the entrance guard.
Rat-tat-tat-tat!
"Wha—?!"
"You son of a—urk!"
It's urban legend that every able-bodied young man in modern Korea can handle a gun.
Even more so in neo-Korea, where gun restrictions were gone.
"Gun law, motherfuckers."
I showed the raiders a fantastical collab of modern tech and martial arts, then dropped low.
Immediately after, a chilling rain of steel poured over my head.
Tat-tat-tat-tat!
"Above!!"
No accuracy.
Spray and pray.
But it pinned my movements just fine.
And then,
Click.
'Oh, shit.'
A crisp pin-pull amid the gunfire din.
The instant I heard it, I slithered across the floor,
Clink, roll-roll—boom!!
A metal object bounced a few times before detonating viciously.
Grenade, huh.
I'd suspected as much since the booby trap,
but damn, these bastards went all out—no holding back for possible friendlies, straight to grenades.
'Effective, though.'
I rolled clear, but this dodge wasn't perfect—my left shoulder burned.
Battle adrenaline dulled the pain momentarily, but only so much.
I retreated to the hallway, ripping open a creaky iron door.
Crunch—
Hurled it down the stairs, then bolted back while thinking.
'They're closing in.'
Whether more hidden CCTV or they just knew the building inside out, their movements screamed confidence.
They were herding me, sure they'd corner me eventually, and my options were indeed shrinking.
I could exploit gaps if they rushed guns blazing, but maybe once or twice more at best.
If they started lobbing grenades to compress space, game over.
'Can't brute-force through the front.'
Time for a decision.
Pick the riskiest option on the table.
Thought to action in a flash.
I reached a room after backtracking.
This seemed right from my earlier scan during infiltration, but no guarantees.
Whatever—best I had.
Whip—whoosh!
I pulled the chain mace from my side and secured it firmly to a pillar.
Not the orthodox way per Sickle-Hammer's teachings, but exotic weapons thrived on improvisation.
The instant it caught, I leaped out the window!
Whoosh!
Cold wind whipped my skin.
High-speed rappel?
Nah, way more thrilling.
Crash!!
From the 8th floor, down the wall, skipping to the 3rd,
then shattering a window to breach the 5th.
"FBI! OPEN UP!!"
"Wh-what?!"
"How the hell did you get here...!"
The guards inside jumped, eyes wide at my grand entrance.
Yeah, knew you'd be here.
Most windows from my wall-climb were here.
I grinned coldly, raising my gun.
They weren't amateurs either—panicking but aiming back.
Do-or-die moment.
They had numbers, but I had superior reaction speed, leg strength, power, dynamic vision.
I eyeballed my aim and hammered the biggest threats first.
Rat-tat-tat-tat!
Sunset hour.
McCree-level precision shots toppled every blocker in my path.
'That's the stuff!'
Even I had to admit, highlight-reel material. I scanned around.
Biggest room, drinking party not fully cleaned up.
Found the largest door, excluding the entrance.
Boss room, probably.
Bam!
Here we go.
The boss room swung open from inside.
And out stepped...
"You little shit. Die!"
Wait, no—hold up.
RPG-7 is cheating!
That wand of Allah.
A hulking brute shouldered an anti-tank rocket and fired without a word.
Death flew at me.
Death's speed wasn't as fast as I'd thought.
Slowly, slowly.
Like swimming through water, I watched it approach and reflected.
Ah, death isn't slow.
My senses are.
Realizing this was the fabled life-flashing-before-your-eyes moment, my hands moved a half-beat ahead.
Unthinkable to reason, but instinct knew the answer—extending both hands in a bizarre arc.
Clack.
The grenade met my palm, rippling in a wave.
Thousands, millions of ingrained reps redirected the misdelivered death back at the sender.
Qi Shift Capture
Countermeasure Formula
Reverse Causality Return
"Wha...!"
The grenade rocketed back at full speed.
No time for the brute to react,
The neatly packaged death shook the entire building.