Chapter 11. Gallery (1)
"...Aigoo."
The drone immediately captured a disturbing scene. Inside an apartment with torn curtains, the monitor showed a devastating sight. On the floor of what looked like the living room, over a dozen people knelt trembling in fear. Surrounding them were five or six burly men in fluorescent work vests or flashing tattoos, menacing them with steel pipes and kitchen knives.
"This doesn't look good at all."
I frowned. Whatever was going on, things were heading south fast. Sound came through from the drone's feed.
"Hand it over quick! We know you've got hidden food!"
"Should we start by killing you?"
The bald-headed leader tapped a middle-aged man's shoulder with his steel pipe and bellowed. The man was shielding a woman who seemed to be his wife, shaking violently. Every chilling word made my stomach twist.
"Ha... damn."
My hand paused mid-bite on the squid jerky. As expected in an apocalypse—people had gotten scary. Just watching felt wrong. I wasn't some righteous hero, but if I could easily fix an injustice like this, I wanted to act. And I had the perfect tools: my drones.
"First, disarm the ones standing. Start with the loudest one."
The drone targeted the steel pipe in the bald guy's hand.
Pfft!
A silenced submachine gun spat briefly.
Clang!
"Argh?!"
The bullet pierced through the window glass, knocking the pipe from his grip. He clutched his hand from the intense shock, staring blankly at his empty palm and the sky, then locked eyes with the drone.
"Wh-what the?!"
"G-gun! It's a gun!"
His thugs panicked and started murmuring. Most froze or flailed upon spotting the combat drone's mounted gun below.
Couldn't miss this chance.
"Disarm them all."
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Like a rhythm game, I precisely shot the blades of their kitchen knives and the handles of their baseball bats.
Crack! Thud! Crash!
As if by magic, their weapons shattered or dropped. Now bare-fisted, the thugs backed away in terror.
"Aaaah! My hand!"
"H-hide!"
They fled deeper into the living room, away from my drones. None seemed equipped to fight back.
"No awakeners among them?"
I ordered the recon drone.
"Move the weapons. To the people on their knees."
Whirr.
The waiting recon drone swooped down gracefully. Entering through the broken window, it snatched a usable baseball bat and steel pipe from the floor with its claw.
"H-hey? My weapon!"
One thug reached out, but the drone zipped over his head. It dropped the weapons in front of a young man in the corner—the one with the sharpest eyes among the trembling residents.
Clunk.
"...?"
The young man stared blankly at the drone and the weapons at his feet. The drone hovered in place, buzzing as if urging him to pick them up. His eyes changed; he grabbed them.
"You bastards..."
The tables had turned. Now the victims held weapons, and the attackers were empty-handed. The fear in the residents' eyes shifted to resolve. They slowly picked up the drone-delivered weapons scattered on the floor.
"...Yeah."
Even the middle-aged man who'd been threatened earlier gritted his teeth, grabbed a pipe, and stood.
The thugs' faces drained of color. They'd already sustained minor hand injuries from the drones dropping weapons and clutched them in pain.
"W-wait! Let's talk! We're all survivors here..."
But excuses fell on deaf ears amid the enraged crowd. The rest would sort itself out.
"Phew... that should do it."
I sighed, glancing at the monitor. I could've ordered the combat drones to end it faster, but I held back. Finishing them myself felt off, and more importantly, I wanted the victims to handle it themselves. I'd checked for any awakeners counterattacking—no signs. The residents beat the thugs lightly as payback and tied them up with thin clothes.
"Are awakeners really that rare?"
Before recalling the drones, I issued one more command. Most residents, weapons in hand, seemed unawakened normals. Come to think of it, I'd shouted Status Window on a whim and summoned the train that way. I sent a recon drone to a female student among them. It laser-etched small text on the floor as ordered.
"Status Window...?"
She startled at first but read it aloud, then stared into space in shock. A faint glow enveloped her body, caught on the drone cam.
"She's glowing."
I hadn't done that. Some skill effect? Anyway, an awakener was born. Once she shared the info, they'd protect themselves.
I watched them help each other up and regain composure through the feed. Good enough. I recalled the drones.
"Now, time for me to rest."
With peace restored, nagging issues surfaced. One big problem in my comfy train life: smells. Car 1 was a studio setup—cockpit, bathroom, bedroom, kitchen all in one. Cooking kimchi stew left spicy scents baked into the sofa, hitting me at bedtime.
"Time to separate. Car 2 has plenty of space."
For health and taste, I'd cook more often—better prep now. I went to the cockpit and opened the customization menu. Dragged the kitchen and mini-bar from Car 1 to a corner of Car 2's cargo hold.
Car 2 had the armory and drone bay, but expansions left room for a kitchen. Plus, stronger ventilation—drones came and went constantly.
Rumble...
The kitchen and mini-bar vanished from Car 1 and reappeared in Car 2. Now Car 1 was pure rest space.
But not done yet.
"Bye, sofa. You served well."
I cleared the cramped sofa and installed a massive bed. Plush with white sheets, I flopped onto it.
"Includes bedding. Lucky..."
My body sank into the mattress. Back fatigue melted away. The sofa was fine, but this? Worlds apart.
"Heh..."
I buried my face in the pillow, rolling around, then slyly pulled out my smartphone and logged into the Survivor Gallery. Scrolling in bed felt pre-apocalypse normal.
"Huh? Posts are regenerating way faster."
Dozens popped up per refresh. Early days were mostly desperate pleas like 'Help me survive,' but now info-sharing thrived. More people meant new post types.
Foreigners occasionally too—likely expat students or tourists in Korea. Global crisis or Korea-only? Unknown, but the gallery was booming.
I checked recommended info posts.
Sharing what I know.
Seoul near Gyeongbok Palace is monster wave no-go zone. Don't even approach.
Government's down, but tons of awakeners and soldiers building safe zones at Namsan Tower, War Memorial, Blue House.
Awakeners clearing monster areas fast lol, but capacity's maxed—don't rush there. Food rations iffy.
Tough-it-out survivors: hold position, don't move rashly.
Oh, like someone mentioned: treasure chests around buildings respawn, so scout from high spots. Food drops too.
"Hooh..."
Valuable intel if true. Shelters irrelevant to me, but useful for others.
As I sank into the mattress and set down the phone, the top banner changed.
"Huh? Notice? From the owner?"
Past notices were user-pinned for importance. This was from the awakener who made the gallery—with a special icon by the nickname.
Hello, everyone. Thanks for surviving out there.
Thought it was a lame skill at first, but so many of you connected and shared info—it's kept me alive and leveled up my skill.
Level up unlocked a new feature: Exchange. Trade items without meeting up.
Should be live in 2 hours.
"...Wow."
Skills grow like mine—gallery skill levels via users. I waited for the exchange, testing by opening loot boxes the drones collected for potential sales.