Chapter 33
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 33
Chapter Title: That's All There Is To It
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Title: Review After This Round's Newtack Broadcast
Author: Sickle Low High Birth End Ugly
(GIF of ambushing by sticking to the ceiling with wall-climbing technique and jumping down)
(GIF of using a chain mace to drop straight from the 8th floor to the 5th)
(GIF of using negotiations as bait to pinpoint enemy positions, then tossing a grenade to stir up chaos)
Whew, Newtack... You're doing great...
Almost missed it because it was ambush bang-on...
No way, clicked 'notify' right away.
Dopamine overload from jumping straight into combat without any boring parts from the start,
and then in that crisis, sneaking above the enemies' heads and descending to cause chaos? Hit recommend immediately...
Looks like the slingshot was used already too, but missed where, kinda disappointing...
But the plan to chain-mace into the enemy base for a decapitation strike? Thumbs up all around...
Thrilling combat after so long.
Those old-school vets always manipulating laws with Position Manifestation thanks to their deep inner power, claiming swords or blades are the best and forcing it...
Newtack's avant-garde fighting was a true dopamine feast...
Newtack, I acknowledge you.
You're a proper 'martial artist' now.
Gal(喝)!!! This isn't martial(武)!!!
lol old wuxia noob having a meltdown right away
Honestly... it was kinda distasteful...
— I Will Become a Swordmaster!: It was delicious...
Refreshing and speedy combat deserves points.
Title: It Was Decently Edible
Author: Anger Control Expert
The combat level was eye-searingly bad,
but good job not sparing any and crushing them all.
Keep wiping out worthless bug bastards like that from now on.
Teacher just likes slasher movies...
No? I just hate frustrating stuff?
— Do You Know the Way?: Stop the soda psychopath!!
Last night's game of mafia came to an end.
We lopped off the head of the boss who had turned half-mutant, then picked off the raiders returning late one by one.
I was worried there might be more who could transform, but there weren't.
That said, a few showed inhuman physical abilities even without full transformation.
So I captured three and interrogated them.
"So, you're saying that injecting a serum-like substance made from the fluids obtained from those monster flowers dramatically boosts physical abilities?"
"Y-Yes!!"
What psychedelic door is this?
One whiff and it feels like the moon would melt away?
These bastards were real lowlifes.
"Alright, let's recap once more. You lot wander cities where the monster flowers bloom, offer up people as feed, harvest the fluids, and survive off that. You sell it around or trade with processors—low-grade amps are just drugs, high-grade ones enhance physical abilities. And with the really top stuff injected over time, you gain transformation powers like your dead boss? That it?"
"E-Exactly!"
"Exactly my ass."
The human world had changed way too much without me knowing.
No, is that even the human world anymore?
It's just a world of monsters wearing human skins.
I already knew human society had completely shattered,
but hearing it like this made my head throb even more.
A mild migraine hit, and I grimaced for a moment.
One of the battered raiders slammed his head down in desperation.
"Big bro!! I'll spill everything I know!! Just spare me!"
"Why the hell am I your big bro?"
"I'll serve you as big bro from now on!! I'm really useful!!"
Desperate self-promotion.
I hadn't even asked, but he launched right into what he could do.
"Don't let my looks fool you—I know a ton of stuff! I can make booby traps, I modded that armored vehicle out front and handled vehicle mods!! I can even customize guns!"
What, a tech guy?
He looked like a meathead brute, but seemed pretty skilled.
"Big bro, you're a soloer, right?"
"Soloer?"
"Means people surviving alone even in this apocalypse! Folks who can thrive without groups due to their superior skills."
That was surprising.
I was planning to strut around openly now thanks to the Martial God crew, but from what he said, other soloers had been operating alone for a while.
"What, no named ones among them?"
"Of course. Like Yangju's Bulldog, Paju's Iron Blade, Mapo's Stone Fist—they're all named solos."
"Hold up. Stone Fist?"
"Huh! You know him?"
"..."
I didn't bother answering.
What a fucked-up world.
"Big bro. Even those types hire guys like us when needed. No matter how monstrous their power, this world has needs, right? Markets exist, but they're not always open, and if you can't get manpower then, you end up employing scum like us!"
"Market? What's that?"
"Uh... You don't know markets?"
His eyes went wide for a second.
That 'how have you survived till now' look, like I was some mountain hermit.
I signaled that I'd gouge his eyes with two fingers if he didn't fix that stare pronto, and he hurriedly added,
"Y-You might not! Yeah! Markets are like daily bazaars used by our kind and other factions! Not always open, but on market days, survivors trade whatever groups need!"
"And you sell monster flower fluids?"
"Yessir! But not just that. Guns, ammo, food, generators, machinery—anything for survival! Even decent slaves."
"Slaves?"
"All kinds. Combat slaves, lab rats, or... heh, you know... Gack!"
"Know shit."
I cut him off before my ears rotted.
Yeah, the world was spinning just fine.
'How the hell did society regress to the past?'
No need to hear more to get the gist.
As I clicked my tongue, the guy clutching his bleeding nose shuffled over on his knees.
"B-Big bro!! I can help you get there too!!"
"Why you again?"
"Big bro... You good at driving?"
"Average."
"I-I see! Then how about navigation?"
"Navigation? Well, GPS... Oh."
Come to think of it, no Google Maps in this world anymore.
GPS gear was long dead under the dust clouds blanketing the sky,
and even 80s-style maps were useless with years of snow reshaping all paths.
No choice but to need a guide who'd been everywhere.
"Big bro! Even top soloers can't be total lone wolves in this world! Hire a guy like me, and you'll find endless uses!!"
The raider pitched his utility on that angle.
Funny coming from someone who'd probably lived antisocial his whole life, preaching humans are social animals,
but shockingly persuasive.
'Is this what they call pathos?'
Humans can't survive alone in the end.
Me included.
The more the world crumbles, the more survivors must band together, and techies like him would be especially valuable.
Yeah, the fat bastard was right.
"True. Humans can't make it solo."
"R-Right?"
"Humans gotta live with other humans."
But you know.
Click-
"B-Big bro?"
"Fuck off. Are you even human?"
Bang-!
The gun barrel spat fire.
His hopeful eyes drowned in despair, graying over in seconds.
"Don't spew that shit. Humans gotta live humanely to be human. If I was gonna turn beast, I'd have mutated and crawled into that den ages ago."
That's why I'd survived five years alone.
Why I'd ditched functional survivor groups to dig dirt in some Gangwon backwater mine.
"I'll die human even if it's tomorrow."
The world was fucked anyway, no matter how I struggled.
Human era was gone, odds of rebuilding shattered society near zero.
No regaining the cultural ease and civilized abundance we'd taken for granted.
Raiders deny it, scavenging dead civilization's corpse like maggots... but that ain't my style.
"One silver lining. Learning there are this many fuckers to kill before I die."
Maybe I'm the outlier.
Times done changed,
and living like these sprawled corpses fits the flow better than my way.
By democracy and majority rule—the era's law—most survivors head that way.
Defying it, I'm the criminal here.
But.
But.
"Eh, criminal it is then."
My life ended three years ago in that adme anyway.
What's left is bonus time, so I'll fight to the end.
Just expanded the foe from mutants to this cursed society.
That was it.
Just that story.
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