I'm Not Dog Food (1)
The air was a hell of a lot fresher than before I got isekai'd, at least.
I gazed in awe at the distant ruins and the gray forest sprouting from them like twisted roots.
Full-on apocalypse vibes.
If I'd woken up in a place like that, I would've assumed I'd dropped into some survival game world and started grinding for scraps. Like that golf game everybody played.
...Though there were zombies here too, sort of.
The difference was that these were a mad collab between ability users and scientists.
In the original story, the protagonist had busted his ass on a purification op there. He'd succeeded in reclaiming it eventually, but at the cost of a ton of soldiers— a pyrrhic victory, they called it.
The world's already brutal enough without cranking out more nightmares. Why not rebuild the provinces instead? Hell if I knew why the Seoul Republic treated everywhere the same.
Still, it beat the shit out of China, locked in civil war for over twenty years per the lore. That place was straight-up 21st-century Romance of the Three Kingdoms.
"Hey, boss man, what're you planning to do once we hit town?"
"Gonna scrape together some startup capital first."
That was why I was headed to Hanam—easiest place to get seed money without too much hassle over your ID. Sure, it had its risks, but nothing better for my situation.
To sneak into Seoul—basically a city-state now—I'd need papers or a criminal record, and either way, I'd just end up on the run. No thanks.
Plus, for an ability user with decent skills looking to make bank, Hanam was prime real estate. Risky, yeah, but plenty of jobs even for nobodies.
"Capital, huh... Boss, this line of work ain't—"
"I know. That's why I've got some intel lined up to score us funds."
The bald, stocky guy with the memorable dome frowned right away.
"You ain't thinking of hitting the Gray Forest, are ya? Look, man, casual jaunts in there get you dead."
Ruins, huh.
I pictured those gray trees feeding on concrete we'd passed earlier.
Monsters lurked there, alright. Chimeras that couldn't live or die.
But that also meant relics from the old world aplenty. WWIII had turned the city into a wasteland packed with hidden loot.
This place had survived on scavenged goods for years, so with original knowledge, snagging a few valuables to flip would net basic capital easy.
Bonus: my travel buddies were tied to a decent crew in Hanam.
"Gotta work to eat."
"It's dangerous, though."
"Dangerous beats breaking out of that psycho lab, hands down."
Real talk: options were meat shield for gangsters or slaving in illegal labor camps. Unless you're Quaker-level disaster-class, anyway. Me? Best case, mid-boss tier— the guy who shows up mid-early game, eats shit from the protag, and gets deleted.
"If you say so, mister..."
"Boss man, if it gets too hairy, swing by our turf."
"Thanks... Ack!"
Mid-chat, the steady ride started bucking like crazy.
What the—?
Tire blowout?
Glancing at the driver's seat, the bald guy piped up as he gripped the wheel.
"Unpaved road. Ain't like Seoul—how many spots get fresh pavement these days?"
Unpaved. Got it.
"That's why the Jeep?"
"Perfect for off-roading. Grab one if you wanna ride in style later. Not much demand for anything else around here anyway..."
I filed away the handy tip and used a touch of repulsion force to hover my body just a hair.
The bone-jarring jolts faded right off.
"A car... Yeah, if I can afford it someday. But first I've gotta worry about not starving."
Wonder how bad the taxes are here.
Or if they even collect 'em in this madhouse.
Hanam was basically lawless central.
"Still, snag one if you plan to stick around. Safer for trips outside town."
"No license, though... Gotta get one?"
"We got licenses or what?"
"That shit died out ages ago."
Suddenly my spine tingled.
...He'd driven fine so far, so whatever.
"Damn—gonna burn through the gas before we arrive."
Just as I relaxed, an ominous rumble hit my ears.
"How far to Hanam?"
"Thirty minutes by wheels. Tank's good for fifteen."
"Thirty, huh..."
"It's a safe stretch, so no worries—"
That's when it happened.
A blood-chilling howl pierced our ears.
"You bald psycho! Jinxed it, asshole!"
"Hey, not my fault! Bad luck, that's all!"
"Shut up and floor it. Whatever it is—"
"Monsters, duh. Rabid mutts that attack anything breathing—"
Peering toward the hillside source, glowing yellow eyes locked on mine.
"They chase cars that fast?"
Original story axed 'em too quick to gauge specs. Knew they hunted in packs of ten-plus, though—
"Not usually! Problem is our tank's on fumes! Dodge 'em in twelve, maybe fifteen—"
"Then arm up."
Just escaped that hellhole lab— no way I'm mutt chow.
"Mina, can you peek their vision?"
"...I'll try."
Mina's head swiveled back. I stared blankly at the white hair swallowing half my view, then rested a throbbing hand on her shoulder—ready to trigger powers.
Pulled myself close with attraction force, just in case.
Keep her from flying out.
"Ah, uh, mister?"
"Focus, Mina. If you get tossed, I've got you."
"O-okay..."
Her shakes eased.
I turned from the concentrating girl to the hillside.
Something crashed through brush even from afar.
Massive build that'd snap a retriever like a twig.
Reek of ancient dog fur.
The stench snapped my senses sharp.
Confirming the pack, I clicked my tongue.
Those ain't mutts. Wolves.
"Mister. They're locked on us..."
Target acquired.
"Can't go faster?"
"Any more and we flip!"
Fair— already rattling like hell; speeding up means rollover.
Tsking regret, I snatched the rifle.
"Mina, how many?"
"One, two, three, four... Fifteen-ish."
"Bullets stick in 'em?"
The bearded driver at the wheel grunted.
"Stick fine! They're just fast as fuck! Hard to tag from a moving ride!"
"Then hold fire till we stop. No shooting from motion."
"Yo, baldy—ammo count?"
"Two mags each?"
Four of us, including me.
One non-combatant... and me, useless in melee.
"Boss man, any bright ideas?"
"First, spill abilities."
"Me? Hardening! Not Guard Captain level, but solid. Skin won't shred on asphalt at least."
Hardening. Useful.
"Driver?"
"Amplify reflected light from my head!"
...Explains the baldness?
Whatever— workable.
"That'll do. Listen up."
I briefed the crew on my three-minute canned plan to break free. They nodded, easing the throttle.
Let the pack close in.
"This legit, boss?"
"Baldy! Worst case, no loss! Haha!"
Lawless vibes— ballsy crew.
"Mina, hold tight. Any sec now—"
Awooo!
The lead mutts overtook, circling the Jeep.
Belts off, hands linked.
"One..."
"Two!"
"ThreEEE!"
With a roar, the Jeep rocketed skyward.