I'm Not Dog Food (2)
“Hold on tight!”
The moment we were flung from the car, I yanked my body back with attraction force and blasted out repulsion to cancel the impact. Success.
A life-or-death gamble.
But fortunately, our bet paid off handsomely.
“Looks like four of 'em got turned to mush.”
As the car spun out and crushed the feral dogs, four of them got caught off guard by the sudden chaos and swept up in the wreckage.
Wish it'd taken more.
Sudden chaos.
And for us, that meant opportunity.
“Ammo's low, so make every shot count.”
Semi-auto mode on the rifle.
Stock against my shoulder, peering through the sights at the enemy.
Target... head.
I pulled the trigger without hesitation.
With the rifle's signature boom, the bullet pierced straight through a feral dog's ear.
Dodged it, huh.
These bastards must've tangled with gun-toting humans plenty before—they snapped out of their panic fast, circling us and closing in.
They wouldn't charge recklessly with our guns trained on them, but they weren't about to let easy prey slip away either.
Something like that.
“See how scrawny their legs are? Starving blind. Drag it out, and they'll give up, right?”
“Baldy, those mutts are already skin and bones. They won't stop till they rip us apart.”
Survival instinct first, or hunger?
“Mina. Stay glued to my back.”
“...Got it.”
Mina, our only non-combatant, clung to me from behind. Normally, this'd be suicidal positioning, but it worked better for me this way.
My powers only extended to others when we were in contact.
Soon enough, the wild dogs lost their patience and charged. Ten of them. The last one hanging back—was it the leader, or just waiting for an opening?
No time to ponder. I squeezed off two rounds.
“They'll dodge this much, right?”
These guys had clearly scrapped with armed folks before.
“Ah, mister...”
“It's fine, it's fine.”
If I were a regular human, I'd be staring death in the face right now. Too bad—this body's a superpowered freak.
“Yeah, come bite me.”
The instant the dogs lunged, I erupted repulsion from my entire body. They got shoved back helplessly by the sudden force.
And bodies forcibly repelled like that? Bound to leave openings.
“Kiiing...”
One dog took a bullet to the head and crumpled, pooling blood on the ground.
One down.
And... you're next.
I thrust out my left hand, pulling in a dog about ten paces away. Its massive bulk resisted, but that was exactly what I wanted.
I immediately unloaded into it.
“Firing one-handed's a bitch. Ow, my arm...”
My whole body throbbed.
“Damn mutts! Think those filthy fangs can pierce my skin?!”
“Eat flashlight!”
Where'd he snag that from?
...The dogs charging Baldy froze, blinded by the light bouncing off his shiny dome. Pathetic, but hilarious.
I fired into the pack lunging at Baldy.
“Easier than I thought?”
“What'd you expect? They're just feral dogs!! Without guns, maybe a threat—but with 'em? Nah!”
Says the guy whose arm they were gnawing like a chew toy.
I repelled the wolves clinging to Beardy and fired again.
The shocked mutt couldn't recover, collapsing into a bloody puddle. The survivors seemed to get the memo and slunk back.
“Damn you all, I'll kill every last one!”
“Nah. Let 'em go. Ammo's precious.”
Long road ahead—better play it safe and conserve.
We lowered our smoking barrels and watched the losers vanish from sight.
Completely out of view.
-------------------------
Is this gonna be home for a while?
After trudging over an hour, we reached Hanam. It had this weird vibe—rural in spots, but jammed right up against Seoul, so urban decay lingered too.
“Welcome to Hanam, boss. Well, old name now—just call it the Swamp Zone...”
“Gonna check on my shop. Catch you later if fate allows.”
“Baldy, take care!”
Baldy split, leaving us three to cross the city.
Swamp Zone, huh.
Nickname from the original story too.
Once you wade in, good luck getting out—like quicksand. Fitting.
World War III fizzled out, nations barely functioning. Livable cities? Scarce. Jobs? Even scarcer.
So folks flocked here to scrape by atop the ruins.
Decent farmland, food supply not hopeless—top-tier among cities.
Problem: Fists rule over law here.
Law exists, sorta—but toothless. Factions carve up turf behind the scenes.
And if it follows canon, chaos erupts in a few years.
The Alligator Gang's boss gets assassinated, kicking off a forced Warring States era.
Quaker unites it all...
Who did it? Latest chapters don't say, but comments pegged Quaker as the puppet master.
I agreed.
Of course, no plans to do it myself—so Alligator's boss lives longer than canon. Whatever.
“Boss, I'm heading back to Alligator Gang, but you got no ties here, right? I can put you up, feed you a few days—c'mon!”
“Thanks.”
“Thanks my ass! You saved our skins—this is the least!”
Can't work till I'm fully healed anyway. Fine.
We followed Beardy deeper into the Swamp Zone.
Bustling crowds.
Muggy air, buildings of concrete and scrap metal.
Streetlights screaming superpower-made.
Thinking on it, electricity users had it made.
End-of-21st-century world, civ regressed post-WWIII—but power's essential.
Electrokinesis? Charge batteries, rake in cash. Or work power plants.
Perks, fat paychecks—Seoul grooms 'em from birth.
Lost in canon lore, we walked till Beardy halted at a rare three-story building.
Entrance sign gleamed unnaturally clean amid the decay.
Backdoor Hotel. Odd name.
Beside it, a scrawny glasses-wearing guy lounged in a chair, smoking and staring blankly.
He spotted Beardy, eyes bulging, jumped up yelling.
“No way—is that you, Youngdeok?”
“Ironsoo! Good to see ya, punk—where you been?”
“Man, tougher than that 17-on-1 with the Vipers. Got stories for days.”
Old buddy?
I eyed their bear hug, then scanned the well-kept building.
“Twenty-year pals.”
Makes sense they'd be stoked. Back from the brink.
“So, who's the pair?”
Glasses turned to us. I stepped up to intro, but Beardy beat me.
“My lifesavers—treat 'em like kings. Without boss here, we'd be dissected by now!”
“Oho! Saved my buddy? Gotta repay that! C'mon, feast's on me!”
“He runs this motel too—no worries on a bed.”
“Finally... some rest.”
Mina sighed in relief, gazing up at the building. Dead serious.
She'd suffered too—propping me up the whole way.
“Tons to do... but rest first, plan later.”
“Yeah... mister.”
We followed Glasses inside.