The Dwarf's Whereabouts
The well vanished on its own after some time. We rested before heading to the restaurant. There would be no further pursuit. The remaining restaurants had used tools that couldn't travel long distances. For instance, the pizza place had wielded a massive iron spatula as a weapon. Weight aside, the spatula only functioned properly when heated in the oven. If they came after us like that, it would only benefit us. The other restaurants were the same. Their tools were either attached to the restaurant or they grew excessively weak when separated from them. Because of these traits, some users occasionally left the dwarves unattended. But it wasn't a good choice. Stage 3's concept itself was "buffs through food," so the dwarves kept making things to eat. 'If a high-grade buff appears, that would be the worst.' Either way, nothing would be made before we arrived. Only about two hours had passed. Buff food production happened once every twelve hours.
I didn't summon any more zombies. Just like before, the main issue was the lack of weapons. On top of that, there were many injured soldiers, so the corpses had to be used to heal them. In many ways, we weren't in a position to increase our forces. 'Still, if we can just solve this problem...'
I didn't know how other users increased their troops, but at least for me, corpses meant troops. Not having to deal with the chronic troop shortage that everyone else faced was a huge advantage. While the zombies feasted and rested, I walked the battlefield collecting usable weapons. The zombies lacked the intelligence to pick out "usable weapons," so most of the grunt work fell to me. Since I was busy, the right to distribute corpses passed to Baengnae.
Baengnae rode on the shoulder of the well-made giant and patrolled, handing out meat according to the severity of injuries. Unless it was an injury on the level of the body loss Baengnae had suffered in the tutorial, even a small amount of meat brought immediate recovery. While distributing the meat, Baengnae also extracted the brains and neatly stacked them in her own spot. Brains, being a special dish, were a precious part only permitted to the higher-ups.
After finishing the distribution, Baengnae called the dogs. She handed each of them a brain. The giant beside her drooled while sticking his fingers in his mouth, clearly wanting a brain too. He was asking to be given one as well. Baengnae's terrifying glare fixed on Shinnip as if she would devour him. The message was clear: Shinnip, who didn't exercise, didn't eat cod, and didn't drink health juice, had no qualifications. The dogs barked wildly from the side. Now that a new junior had joined after their own grueling training, they were excited to force the same hardships on him.
'A bad culture is forming...'
Maybe this was nature's law? Without anyone teaching them, Baengnae and the dogs were picking up only the worst habits from somewhere and putting them into practice. The six-armed zombie giant drooped all six of his arms. Getting scolded by his seniors all at once had completely deflated him.
"Ugh..."
Shinnip looked at me. He seemed to be hoping for something.
'Yeah, I should probably say something.'
I approached them and delivered a sharp remark.
"I'm over here working my ass off, and you're thinking about brains going down your throat? Huh?"
At my words, Baengnae smacked the giant repeatedly. The dogs barked furiously. I grabbed Baengnae's head in disbelief.
"I'm talking about you, you little punk."
Of course the brains belonged to Baengnae. But that was beside the point—there was no way she could be lounging around while I was working.
Support the returnee summoner.
In Linzel's research lab, the mid-level system administrator wore a triumphant smile. The central system had isolated that damn brat to another dimension. It was only natural. There was no way the central system could be invaded so recklessly without any repercussions. The brat was being punished for increasing Linzel's workload.
"Heh heh, serves him right."
Of course, even dimensional isolation wouldn't keep that monstrous kid away for long. But it was enough. In that time, the major corporations would have already approached the Zombie Summoner with sponsorship offers. In fact, she had confirmed records showing that the megacorporation "Death" had initiated sponsorship toward the summoner. No matter how much of a brat he was, he couldn't face "Death" alone.
But the joy was short-lived. This time, a rather unwelcome message arrived. It was also from the central system. The content stated that the [System Error Compensation] the brat was supposed to receive was being delayed due to the dimensional isolation.
'What do you want me to do about it? Why are you telling me this?'
The order was for her to provide additional compensation due to the delay in payment. Linzel was dumbfounded. Why did she have to keep cleaning up the mess that brat had made? But she soon had no choice but to accept. At the very bottom of the message were the files she had sent to "Death" and "Heaven" attached. The central system was overlooking her minor transgression in exchange for dumping this troublesome task on her.
'Damn it... So they caught me after all?'
This was more troublesome than it appeared. If Linzel directly provided compensation to the Zombie Summoner, a record would remain. Then the corporations would identify the summoner, which would lead not to a minor transgression but to a violation of information regulations.
'In the end, it means I have to provide the compensation indirectly...'
After a brief moment of thought, Linzel found someone among her sponsored targets who shared the same origin as the Zombie Summoner. She sent a message.
Support the returnee summoner.
The selected compensation recipient was currently among the top ranks in the summoners' world. This level should satisfy the central system. From here on, how much benefit they could extract depended entirely on the Zombie Summoner's own capabilities. Linzel hummed as she headed to her bedroom. It had been a while since she'd heard good news, so she planned to spend a brief moment dreaming.
Click—
The lights in Linzel's lab went out. She drifted into a short sleep.
Kim Seolhwa, the top-ranked user operating the Looters Guild beyond Stage 6, was left speechless by the sudden message. Only one thought echoed repeatedly in her mind.
'I'm screwed...'
Seolhwa and her guild had also seen the "Return to Reality" post and worked to find the person responsible. After much effort, they confirmed a connection to a user called "Expert." Swallowing their pride as top-ranked users, they had sent a recruitment offer to the Stage 3 newbie. And they had been rejected. From that moment, anger had taken root in Seolhwa's heart.
'How dare. How dare. How dare a Stage 3 newbie...'
So from that day on, she became a malicious commenter targeting "returnees." Her guild members joined in as well. They were the Looters Guild to begin with, so the momentum of targeting someone completely took off. These currents flowed very favorably for Seolhwa. With the "returnee's" consistent ignoring and the rejection by "Expert," numerous guilds that had their pride wounded joined the anti-fan club. Eventually, ten major guilds united and the [Returnee Anti-Club] was established. As the club's founding president, she had even given a speech denouncing the "returnee" in front of numerous rankers. Just moments ago!
And right after that, this absurd message had arrived from her sponsor.
'This is... this is really screwed.'
The club's vice president entered behind her as she clutched her head. The handsome man looked at Seolhwa with concern.
"President, is there a problem?"
Seolhwa quickly dismissed the message. She hardened her expression and spoke.
"No matter how I think about it, it's unreasonable. We've built a server-wide human network through this rally, but we still haven't found any leads on that guy."
The vice president hardened his expression along with her. Quoting the speech Seolhwa had just given, he strongly criticized the "returnee."
"That's because he's fake. Since he has no substance, he's even harder to catch. That's the advantage of falsehood."
Seolhwa broke into a cold sweat. Even now, the words she had spoken would be spreading through the community in real time. To the actual, existing "returnee" as well.
"O-of course he's fake! I meant the culprit. Shouldn't we make that trash pay for toying with users through such a disgusting incitement post?"
"You are absolutely right."
"Let's form a dedicated search team. Make searching the top priority to identify the fake, and the club will compensate any resources the search team needs... Yes, that sounds good."
"Then what about the existing agenda..."
"Temporarily scrap it! Identifying the fake's identity comes first. The club was created because of that guy—if we prioritize other matters, the club's meaning might end up fading. Don't you think?"
The vice president nodded in agreement. Although all the planned operations would have to be revised, the president's words certainly made sense. This was the most critical period for the club's raison d'être.
"It will be done as you command."
The vice president left to carry out the orders. Seolhwa clutched her head again. How on earth was she supposed to resolve this situation? The club wasn't just a large guild. It was an alliance of guilds beyond Stage 6. The shared goal of the "returnee" had allowed many people with differing ideologies to unite.
"Aaaagh! Damn it!"
Kim Seolhwa kept sending messages to her sponsor, but there was no reply. The existence that always responded within ten seconds had suddenly gone silent after leaving just that one message.
'This is really, truly fucked...'
Kim Seolhwa, as president of the anti-fan club, now found herself in the position of having to support the very target of her anti-fandom.
The zombie horde approached the food alley. A resounding voice echoed from among them.
"Forward!"
Shinnip was quite a useful fellow. He possessed a unique timbre as if ten people were singing in chorus.
"Halt!"
He was the ultimate megaphone.
"Hmm. Good."
"Hmm! Good!"
'...I really hope his intelligence problem gets solved soon...'
Baengnae smacked him repeatedly from atop the giant's shoulder. I shot her a glare. When I first met her, she had been just as much of an idiot, yet now that she'd grown a bit, she was bullying Shinnip.
"Baengnae, don't hog all the brains by yourself. Share some so the kids can at least gain minimal intelligence."
"Ung. Got it."
Somehow, it felt like she'd give one out of every hundred, just like she did with the dogs. But it didn't matter. What was important was acquisition, not distribution. If we obtained ten thousand brains, Shinnip would have the conditions to eat a hundred, wouldn't he? So let's focus on gathering.
Just in time, the sacred brains were crawling out of the restaurants in droves upon hearing of our arrival. The final battle of 3-2. The dwarf chefs, ready to feed us to our hearts' content, were welcoming their guests with their specialties on full display.