A Damned World
Jeron arrived back on the Karen Continent.
Though it couldn't compare to Earth, the weather here was still quite chilly.
Jeron stacked his salvaged loot in a corner of the barracks.
Fifteen rifles, three handguns, twenty-three crossbows, various canned goods, watches, compasses, maps, cigarettes, and alcohol.
It was a massive haul.
The only problem was the ammunition.
"Fifteen rifles, but less than fifty rounds of ammunition."
The survivors on Earth were just as starved for resources as anyone else.
Raiding a military base might yield more, but such places were likely already occupied by scavengers or torn to shreds by mutants.
The day to raid a military base would come eventually, but not today.
At the very least, it was a task to be attempted only after Jeron reached the 3rd Circle.
Looking outside the barracks, the morning sun had not yet risen.
He considered sleeping for a few hours, but knowing that a brief, fitful sleep would only leave him more exhausted, he decided to stay up through the night.
With a body reinforced by mana and the youth of his late teens, pushing himself for a day or two was nothing.
Jeron decided to spend the remaining time inserting the black box chip into his smartphone.
If the chip was compatible, great; if not, it didn't matter.
He simply wanted to check it, as opening the black box might reveal unexpected information.
The fact that Yujin Industries held a massive stockpile of resources, and that the shelter contained crossbows—all of this had been discovered through the traces left by survivors.
He could not afford to be lazy when it came to verifying information.
"It works."
After fiddling with the phone for a bit, Jeron confirmed that the black box chip was compatible.
The chip contained black box footage recorded by date.
The footage was from April 2034. As Jeron had suspected, people had been living in the shelter until just a year ago.
Even after the group of survivors, including the man named Kang, had died out, a new group had settled there.
Footage from April 2, 2034.
"It's impossible to hold out here any longer. We have to go into the city."
"The city? Are you insane?! Don't you know those things are crawling all over the city?"
"Then do we just starve to death here?"
"Who said anything about starving?! We'll find food somehow."
"We can't even catch fish these days! Whether it's because of the mutants or something else, they've all been wiped out. What's the point of holding out here?"
The video did not show who was inside the vehicle. However, the voices alone were enough to paint a clear picture of the situation.
Scavenging was no longer possible in Eumyang-myeon and the surrounding townships, and to make matters worse, no fish could be caught in the river.
The mutants' appetite was beyond imagination.
They didn't just eat humans; they devoured wild animals and fish as well.
Since they were creatures that even resorted to cannibalism, living things stood no chance of survival on Earth.
In a world like this, a safe and abundant shelter simply did not exist.
People suffered from a constant depletion of resources. Food was so scarce that they barely clung to life by digging up grass roots.
Jeron played the next video.
April 15, 2034.
"Sigh, you were right. It's probably better to go into the city. It's dangerous, but if we're careful, we can scavenge, right?"
"I told you. It's every man for himself now. We don't need to think about anyone else. Just focus on our family."
It seemed the couple had succeeded in scavenging in downtown Seosan.
However, their joy did not last long.
On the road leading up to the shelter, a vehicle was crashed into a tree, engulfed in flames.
It appeared to be the very vehicle Jeron had seen earlier.
The black box clearly showed signs of an intrusion at the shelter.
Tire tracks were vivid on the ground, and gunshots echoed in the distance.
The situation was obviously dangerous.
Yet, the couple could not turn the car around.
[Jin-seong!]
[Seul-ha!]
Their desperate cries explained everything.
Because scavenging in the city was a life-threatening gamble, they had left their children behind at the shelter.
That way, if they died, someone would still be there to look after the kids.
But the couple returning to the shelter had run out of luck.
The moment their vehicle came into view, a scavenger fired a handgun, and the bullet pierced straight through the man's head.
Losing control, the car slammed into a tree, and the black box was dislodged and thrown outside.
Even so, the recording continued.
He had expected the power to cut off, but it seemed the black box had its own rechargeable battery.
Amidst a flurry of screams, the voices of the survivors and the scavengers recorded in a chaotic jumble.
[Honey!]
[Hahaha! Kill them all!]
The scavengers had taken over the shelter.
They shot down those trying to escape without a moment's hesitation.
Those who surrendered were bound together with ropes like dried yellow croaker, likely to be dragged back to the scavengers' base.
Slaves of a ruined world.
It was a horrific sight, but in this world, enslaving people was treated as a matter of course.
The woman who got out of the car ran forward with a gun, but she was blown back by a rifle shot.
She collided with the passenger side of the vehicle they had arrived in, drawing her final breath.
Satisfied with their harvest, the scavengers were preparing to ransack the shelter in earnest.
But their pleasure was short-lived.
Mutants were rushing up the path toward the shelter.
It seemed they had followed the couple as they drove back.
"Right, mutants possess intelligence."
Had the couple been lucky to scavenge the city?
Not at all.
They had only succeeded because the mutants had allowed them to live. City scavenging was so perilous that even the current Jeron hesitated to attempt it.
The moment the monsters breached the perimeter, the shelter turned into a screaming hell.
Among the beasts tearing the survivors apart were entities classified as Evolved Mutants.
Jeron had looked down on them, calling them 'skinny ones' and 'muscle pigs,' but they were monsters possessing terrifying physical might.
Once the Evolved Mutants entered the fray, the scavengers were slaughtered in an instant.
Most died without even having the chance to scream.
Limbs were torn off, and flesh splattered everywhere.
The mutants feasted, tearing apart the scattered corpses and stuffing them into their maws.
In exchange for letting two survivors roam the city, they had devoured the entire shelter.
[Kieeeek!]
[Fuck, get away! Aaaargh!]
Screams filled the air.
Crunch!
At the height of the chaos, the black box was stepped on, and the recording cut out.
Fortunately, the chip inside had remained intact, preserving the record.
Jeron frowned as he reviewed the events that had transpired at the shelter.
"What a damned world."
Both the people who had made this place their home and the scavengers who attacked them had all perished.
Jeron stopped the playback on his phone and stepped outside.
The sun was slowly rising.
Jeron analyzed the footage he had just watched.
"They are definitely not to be taken lightly."
Roaming Earth meant constantly risking one's life because of the mutants, but humans were just as dangerous.
Today alone, he had confirmed that crazed humans were everywhere on Earth.
While some fired guns to lure mutants, other scavengers still roamed, engaging in the traditional hunt for humans.
The father and daughter he had met were simply among the lucky few.
"Come to think of it, what I experienced today was just an ordinary day on Earth."
How many more damned things were out there?
A survivor being chased by scavengers or mutants was so common it wasn't even worth mentioning.
Jeron cleared the useless thoughts from his mind and prepared for the day.
As the morning sun rose, the sleeping military camp stirred to life.
The 'New Territory Movement' was not limited to the serfs.
Under the principle that lazy individuals should not be treated as human, the soldiers also woke up early and dedicated themselves to training until evening.
On days without training, it was routine for them to go out and assist the civilians with their labor.
Despite being stationed in the wilderness, the soldiers showed the diligence to wake up early and tidy their barracks.
"My Lord!"
While Jeron was doing his morning stretches, Sir Garcia ran over, his face pale.
His handsome face was heavily distorted.
"What is it?"
"A messenger arrived early this morning. Viscount Rebion has finally drawn his sword!"
"Oh! Is that so!"
"Yes! He has sent an official letter claiming ownership of the Farrow Forest!"
"The time is ripe."
Everything was going according to Jeron's plan.
It was Jeron who had used Viscount Rebion's greed to steer them toward a territory war in the first place.
The Farrow Forest, which was little more than a wasteland, was surrounded by interconnected hills and mountains, and the border with the Rebion Viscounty was the issue.
Jeron had dispatched miners to the mountainous area to develop a mine, and through the Dark Moon, he had spread a rumor to the Rebion family.
A rumor that an iron mine had been discovered in the Farrow Forest.
It was entirely expected that the greedy Viscount Rebion would lose his mind over it.
According to reports from the Dark Moon, Viscount Rebion's greed had flared up so intensely that he couldn't sit still for a single moment.
In the end, Viscount Rebion had delivered an official letter to Jeron.
"What is the reaction of the central nobility?"
"Viscount Rebion has been throwing bribes around, but they seem a bit hesitant."
"That must be because I am a ward of Duke Langton."
"Undoubtedly. Our kingdom is divided into factions, but no one can ignore the power Duke Langton wields."
If Viscount Rebion had sent an official letter to Jeron, he must have also petitioned the King to grant a territory war.
The King would have consulted on the matter, but Duke Langton would have been the first to oppose it.
"Where is the letter Viscount Rebion sent?"
"Here it is!"
Dear Baron Farrow,
Have you been well?
This elder brother has fallen ill over the past few days from worrying about you.
The small mountain range situated between your territory and mine threatens to divide our friendship. What are we to do?
I would naturally wish to yield that land to you, but my vassals are in an uproar.
Even the knights and soldiers show signs of rising up to reclaim our ancestral land, so I take up my pen with a heavy heart.
Since it is useless land anyway, could we not negotiate?
If you cede that land, I shall compensate you handsomely.
"Look at this pig. Since when was I his younger brother? I am the eldest son."
"Indeed. If my Lord were brothers with such an ugly wretch, that would be far stranger. A man must have good looks, but no matter how generously one looks at him, that man is nothing more than a wild boar."
Sir Garcia's expression twisted in disgust.
Anyone who recalled Viscount Rebion's face would have a similar reaction.
Jeron crumpled the letter and stomped it underfoot.
"Greedy bastard. Let's see if he can still talk like this after his land is stripped away."