Chapter 96
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 96
Chapter Title: Another Survivor Group
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"Hoo... Finally made it over."
I was now right in front of the escalator leading down to Basement 1.
More precisely, on top of a tall shelf about six meters high nearby.
I'd taken a running start and leaped up in one go, figuring I'd catch my breath. Looking down, I saw the area below crawling with zombies.
“Kya aa aak!!”
Zombies looking up at me and screeching in rage.
Since they couldn't even climb stairs properly, it didn't seem like they'd reach me up here.
"Even after killing that many, there's no sign of them thinning out..."
My view was packed full of swarming zombies.
I must've killed a few hundred by now...
I'd roughly estimated it before, but even so, the sheer number was nauseating.
If it was just normal circumstances, fine—but with Nameless not even registering them, pushing forward had been tough. That said it all.
And now, Basement 1, where I was about to head, supposedly had even more?
Heh heh... What a shitshow.
The sight made curses spill out naturally.
The one silver lining was that, compared to the first floor, Basement 1 had plenty of tall structures like the shelf I was on now, piled high with goods.
If I traveled along the tops, it might be manageable.
Still gotta kill 'em all, though...
That said, safely blasting away with the shotgun from up high wouldn't be as efficient as piercing through three or four at close range per shot, then cleaning up the surroundings with my longsword.
With my time limit, the former was an option I wanted but couldn't afford.
"At least I can take some comfort in being able to use a bit of magic now."
I could use it freely on the non-refrigerated sections, at least.
As I'd explained before, flames made from mana didn't spread.
But if I used that fire to blow up a fridge, it'd create a real blaze—total disaster.
Guess I'll just have to be extra careful.
With that thought, I stood up, did some light stretches, and jumped down below.
《Nameless》
The cooldown was up, so I activated Nameless again.
I landed right on the escalator.
The zombies that had been staring at me as I fell started looking around in confusion when their target vanished midair.
With only two zombies on the escalator itself, I pulled out my shotgun and longsword, then slowly descended.
Whoosh—
"Out of the way."
The two isolated zombies on the escalator? I grabbed them personally and tossed them aside.
This height should squash them flat on their own.
And sure enough, I soon earned 2 points, confirming my hunch.
Descending the escalator—now jammed with corpses—I finally got to see the Basement 1 I'd been so curious about.
"What?"
The sight that filled my vision made me freeze in shock.
It wasn't just the zombies—though there were more here than on the first floor.
No, that wasn't what stunned me right now.
It was the possibility I'd hoped for but dismissed as unlikely.
They've survived this long?
Another group of survivors.
Clearly visible on the high shelves of Basement 1.
Over a hundred people, easy—at least by my estimate—huddled up there like some primitive tribe in the trees, just like I'd done, evacuating to shelves about six meters high.
Basement 1 was the food section.
Under their feet: drinks, instant meals.
And even snacks and various treats beyond that, so they'd somehow managed to hold out till now.
I'd wondered, but didn't think it'd actually be true...
With food scattered everywhere, and these warehouse-style megamart shelves too hard to climb, it made sense some survivors might hang on.
But with none on 1F and everyone else on 2F dead except my group, I hadn't gotten my hopes up.
Yet here they were, defying expectations.
A pleasant miscalculation. My lips curled into a grin.
The more manpower, the better.
"Perfect timing."
Just this morning, I'd been stressing over a manpower shortage. To me, these folks were like a lifeline from the gods.
Whether it was rotten rope or fresh, I didn't know yet—but even rotten could be ground up for fertilizer.
Any living person, I could find a use for somehow.
Thrilled, I gathered strength in my legs.
Kicked off hard and leaped high.
Thud—!!
Not a huge jump, but enough to dent the escalator step slightly. I landed on the roof of the shelf right in front.
Beer aisle, huh.
Looking down at the dozens, hundreds of green-labeled beer cases stacked underfoot, I couldn't help but marvel at the sheer abundance.
Show this to the people on 2F, rationing every bite? They'd be drooling.
Warehouse megamarts are the best...!
I subtly stashed five cases of beer cans into my inventory and moved forward.
Beer, then whiskey.
Next, soju.
Stepping over all sorts of liquor, the path ended.
Below, zombies still swarming.
Good thing I came up here early.
Trying to pass below would've left me covered in rotten flesh and black blood by now.
And unlike on 1F, hacking a path with longsword and shotgun? The shotgun blasts were too loud.
I couldn't risk alerting the survivors ahead, even if I wanted to.
Well, after all that shooting on 1F, maybe they already knew.
They just look dazed or chattering away... maybe not.
I'll figure that out once I'm closer. For now, I lightly hopped to the opposite shelf and kept going.
Snack corner now.
True to the American chain, potato chips from U.S. potatoes and massive American snack packs everywhere.
Ah, that's my favorite.
"Pink salt potato chips are just so damn good."
With all this food lying around, I couldn't help getting excited.
No one's listening, but muttering to myself while pocketing snacks into inventory little by little?
Once I clear this place out later, it'll all be mine anyway.
Am I still just a kid at heart?
I've killed people, wield serious power, lead a group—but I'm only 21.
Yeah, pretty young.
But in this world, who cares about age?
Strength is all that matters.
Lost in such random thoughts, I'd pause whenever I spotted something tasty, stashing a bit into inventory as I went.
After hopping gaps about four times, I finally reached the survivors' area.
Now close enough, their conversations came through clearly.
"Yeah? How about this then. We put this here and start. Wouldn't that add more rules?"
People playing some board game—Othello? Chess? Hard to tell.
"Thirsty for water... Tch. Guess I'll make do with drinks today..."
"No choice. Water's more precious than drinks right now."
Someone whining about wanting water despite being full, chugging a soda can.
All sorts of sights.
They're doing pretty well, huh?
They seemed more put-together than expected.
Shelves turned into tidy rooftops with tents from who-knows-where and cardboard boxes.
Even makeshift bridges from support struts linking the shelves.
And with abundant food fulfilling the 'food' part of shelter needs, their faces looked decent enough.
For apocalypse survivors, not bad at all.
Of course, no showers like on 2F, so everyone looked grimy.
But their eyes still had some spark.
"Tight space, but with food, they've survived well."
Especially those bridges and shelf mods—required real skill.
Or a ton of effort.
Either way, they were clearly led by one leader.
Otherwise, you couldn't explain how scattered shelves formed one connected society.
Main area's over there, I bet.
The shelf cluster with the most people and tents—that seemed like the hub.
I slipped through the unaware crowd under Nameless, crossed a bridge, and headed to the center.
Grimy bunch, so the stench as I passed was no joke.
Finally at the central shelf.
In the middle: a closed-off space ringed by tents, where over ten people sat in a circle.
Ten men, two women.
All grimy, but each with their own vibe.
Some kind of meeting?
"Anyway, if things keep up like this, we'll run out of food eventually!"
"Heh heh. We know that. But there's no solution, is there?"
...Feels familiar.
Oh, like Kim and Park uncles.
Déjà vu from the banter. I plopped down in the center to listen closely.
About 20 minutes left on Nameless.
I could eavesdrop on their meeting a bit to gauge the group.
And figure out who's the leader.
One thing clear: no leader among these folks.