Chapter 56
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 56
Chapter Title: You're All Out For Now
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“Want to become slaves, or should I kill you all?”
I crossed my arms and looked up at Junsang.
Damn, he was seriously tall.
“Hmph...!”
In that instant, Junsang's trembling pupils steadied. He gritted his teeth and swung a massive fist at me, one that matched his hulking build.
A full-power straight punch.
Thwack—!
“What?!”
‘Tough guy. That's a pass.’
But Junsang's punch, thrown with his upper body twisted for maximum force, was effortlessly blocked by my hand.
He looked utterly shocked, like he hadn't even considered it might get stopped.
The sight of his enormous fist halted so easily by my comparatively small hand froze the expressions of everyone around us.
“Damn it!”
He immediately swung his other fist.
This time, I didn't block. I just stood still, watching it come straight at me.
For impact, this would work better than just stopping it.
Smack!
This one landed solid.
The crack of bone on bone echoed as a hard fist met my cheek.
To a third party, it would've looked like a giant brute swinging to kill at a smaller guy's face.
The audience's gulps were audible even from here.
‘Too bad. It doesn't hurt at all.’
There wasn't even a twinge of pain.
Just a slight tickle?
And the first to notice my reaction was Junsang himself, the one who'd thrown it.
His triumphant expression faltered back into shock.
My head hadn't budged from the hit, and my face stayed blank. A natural reaction.
Given his size, he'd probably never felt lacking in strength or intimidation his whole life.
Yet here I was, smaller than him, standing expressionless after taking his full-force punch. Of course he'd panic.
He must've felt like he'd hit a block of solid ice.
I glared at Junsang, whose fist was still pressed against my cheek, and spoke.
“Three seconds. Kneel.”
I drew my longsword again.
A clear message: I could slice him up just like that old man anytime.
At the same time, I narrowed my eyes and slowly tightened my grip on the hand holding his fist.
“Urk...!”
For a moment, he resisted with what seemed like his last shred of pride.
But realizing the impossible gap in our strength, he soon lowered his gaze.
He pulled his fist from my cheek and knelt without resistance, slowly but surely.
“Grr...”
“Good. You don't want to end up like that old man. Stay put and don't resist.”
“Damn it... You just killed a man! You know that?!”
Even so, he squeezed out a protest in a strained voice.
I scoffed mockingly and tapped his head.
“Haha! Big deal. You guys have been holed up here, so you don't know, but South Korea's done for. Hell, the whole world's basically ended.”
My casual words sent ripples of unease through the entire safe zone.
Mr. Park and Mr. Kim watching from afar.
The two pretty women beside them.
And everyone else.
All their faces had gone pale.
I shifted my gaze from Junsang, scanning the crowd as I continued.
“Listen up. I'm telling you this as a special favor. The country, society, laws, and morals that protected you—all gone.”
With each word emphasized, shadows crept over their faces.
I released Junsang's fist and planted my foot on the head of the old man's corpse I'd killed.
“Human rights? That's not even a concept anymore. Got it?”
Crunch—!
““““?!!””””
I bore down with my leg, smashing it completely.
People turned away or dry-heaved on the spot.
Even Junsang looked ashen from the shock.
Everyone stared at me with eyes full of fear.
Satisfied with their reactions, I nodded.
“Good. Now you're ready to listen. Hey, Junsang. Get up. Everyone, gather in the center!”
I herded them into the middle of the safe zone, Junsang included.
They moved sluggishly at first, like they didn't want to, but one smack of my longsword on the floor got them scrambling.
They'd all seen the old man butchered and his head crushed—no one resisted.
I eyed the grubby group huddled in the center.
“I'll give you credit for not having any idiot resisters. Anyone who did would've just added to the body count.”
“Eek?!”
One woman let out a small scream at the word "body."
“Quiet.”
“Hmph...!”
She clamped her mouth shut desperately, tears streaming, at my warning.
Once it was dead silent, I grabbed a nearby chair, crossed my legs, and sat.
“One more time. You're all my slaves from now on. Any objections?”
“...”
My question met silence, like a dead-of-night street.
They probably figured objecting meant instant death.
Not wrong.
“No answers, so I take that as agreement. Some of you might feel hard done by or hate it. But in time, you'll thank your stars you became my slaves right now. At the very least, you won't die to those damn zombies.”
A few shot me arrogant glares at that.
Mostly the young or tough-looking ones.
Even after the example, some resistance lingered.
“Anyway, I plan to use you all to build up power here at Mastco as my base. For that, you need to function as one organization. Junsang.”
I beckoned him from the front row, and he rose slowly.
“You're their representative from now on. Pick managers or whatever and run it yourself.”
“...”
“Answer me.”
“Under...stood...”
He clenched his fists in humiliation but answered anyway.
Having felt my power firsthand, he knew resistance meant death—and accepted fast.
I decided to toss him a carrot.
“All men, stay seated. Women only—stand up.”
One by one, the women rose.
Ages ranged from twenties to fifties.
‘Ten young women. Seven older ladies and aunties. Eight middle-aged?’
“Come forward and line up by age.”
“B-by age...?”
“Yeah. Hurry up. Unless you want to end up as a corpse.”
At my words, their faces drained of color. Despite their malnourished, dehydrated weakness, they moved briskly.
Asking each other's ages in a flurry, they quickly lined up in front of me.
I stood from the chair and approached them.
As I neared, the skinny and middle-aged ones trembled, flashing back to the old man's death—no one dared move.
I stopped right in front of the 14th woman.
“Age.”
“S-sniff... Th-thirty-four...”
“You.”
“Thirty-six...!”
14th was 34, 15th was 36.
14 had an average face and figure but looked healthy.
15's face hinted at past beauty, now wrinkled and plain, and she looked frail.
‘Gotta keep up to 14.’
“You and forward, over by that pillar. The rest, to the wall.”
I split them right between the two, and their faces lit up or fell accordingly—14th with hope, 15th with despair at joining the old ones.
The rejects gathered by the empty wall as ordered, anxiety plain on their faces.
I told the young women to wait and approached the rejects.
“Hands up if you're married.”
Hesitantly, all but the youngest—15th—raised their hands.
“Now, those with husbands in the men's group—lower yours.”
Half complied.
Five hands stayed up, six went down.
I beckoned the five and sent them back to their husbands.
“Those still holding hands—back to your husbands. And behave.”
“Th-thank you...!”
“Thank you!”
The married women returned with grateful bows.
None were knockout beauties like Hyejin, but whatever.
The remaining six trembled against the wall, side by side.
“Any of you rejects got skills besides housework?”
“I... do some video editing...”
“Not that useless crap. Anyone else?”
They mumbled their talents, but all pointless, so I shut them down.
I raised my hand toward them.
“I get it—no real skills. Look, I don't need old women who just eat and shit. Sorry, but you're all eliminated.”
“Eliminated...? What do you mean?!”
15th forgot her fear to shout at me.
I ignored her.
I drew up the mana dormant in my body.
Noise erupted behind me at the mana glow even normals could see.
I ignored the racket and formed the now-familiar spell.
A fireball bloomed before my hand—now as big as a man's torso, unlike before.
‘Proficiency up means more mana packs it bigger.’
One day, man-sized, I mused, then pulled the trigger.
”Fireball”
⟨ Fireball ⟩
BOOOOM—!!!
The six women vanished without a trace, swallowed by flames.