Chapter 92
A public parking lot near Yongsan Base, shrouded in dense dawn fog.
From within the gray mist, a single black shadow slowly crawled out.
As the distorted space that shimmered like rippling light returned to normal, Shadow appeared, releasing Spatial Distortion Stealth.
—We have arrived, Boss.
I had been walking half-asleep, but those words snapped me awake.
“Whew…”
After working intensely with almost no sleep, every muscle in my body was screaming. Without hesitation, I activated Manufacture, quickly making a metal chair and dropping into it.
“Shadow, unload the goods.”
—Understood.
The moment my command was given, Shadow’s Spatial Tethering activated.
Space rippled like water, and massive steel containers silently descended from midair onto the ground.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Heavy vibrations traveled through the soles of my feet.
The Atlas logo stamped clearly on the side of the containers gleamed in the faint morning light.
“We actually did it.”
I sank deeper into the chair and rubbed my face dryly.
The last seventy-two hours.
With every automated system shut down because of the workshop upgrade, the result in front of me had been produced purely through my biological energy and the labor of the three drones.
That was insane.
Even with the Workshop Lv.2 automated production line running, producing one K-2 rifle takes ten minutes.
Running nonstop for twenty-four hours produces only 144 rifles a day.
I handled the casting and machining of parts myself, while using Picker, Porter, and Shadow as terminals to parallelize the assembly process through Remote Manufacture.
The result was roughly one rifle per minute.
In theory, ten times faster than the automated line.
But the cost was brutal.
For three days and nights straight I hadn’t slept a moment, replacing their acidic batteries whenever they ran dry while forcing the machines to keep running.
These weapons were literally made by shaving away my life force.
“Ugh… my back.”
Just as I twisted my body to loosen stiff muscles, Picker’s lively voice echoed in my head.
—Boss! Named target spotted! Three hundred meters ahead at two o’clock, inside a ruined building!
“Really? What is it?”
—Still can’t see clearly yet, sir. But I’ve got a feeling! Definitely D-Grade or higher!
I pulled up the feed.
A mutant with emaciated ribs wandering between the ruins.
It moved so quickly the camera could barely capture it.
Definitely a high-grade one.
—Picker, be quiet. Your motor noise lacks gravitas.
A deep voice cut in.
It was Porter.
—If the target escapes, I will remove your battery.
—Whoa, has this porter bastard lost his mind? Boss! Did you hear that? The bear’s rebelling!
Picker immediately tattled to me, jumping in the air.
Seriously, maybe I should ban the Survivor Forum for him.
His language keeps getting worse.
“Alright. Just don’t lose it. Bring it back.”
—Eek! Understood! Honestly, chasing monsters is a hundred times better than grinding gears in the bunker! Hehe!
Picker sounded genuinely excited.
Well, after three days of hellish assembly-line labor.
He was now searching for prey with blazing enthusiasm.
After all, he knew better than anyone that if we secured cores, the workshop’s automated production would restart—and he’d be free from that cursed repetitive work.
I closed my eyes briefly and listened to the sounds of them hunting.
Even while bickering, their coordination was flawless.
Thanks to that, I could forget my exhaustion for a moment.
Then the sound of a truck engine echoed in the distance.
Lieutenant Colonel Kang had arrived.
Two military transport trucks slid into the parking lot.
Lieutenant Colonel Kang Cheolmin stepped out of the driver’s seat, followed by Sergeant Seo from the passenger side.
Sergeant Seo’s eyes widened when he saw the massive steel containers.
“There seem to be… quite a lot of containers.”
Of course there were.
We made a lot.
He would probably be shocked soon enough.
But Kang Cheolmin’s expression was dark.
For someone here to inspect goods, he looked far from pleased.
“You don’t look well. Did something happen?”
He hesitated for a moment, then sighed deeply.
“I… owe you an apology.”
“Excuse me?”
“The first delivery performed extremely well in field use. I was negotiating a follow-up contract… but it fell through.”
“Why?”
I could guess.
“Colonel Park Jinseop… made the first move.”
Kang Cheolmin continued through clenched teeth.
“Yesterday he reported directly to the Supreme Commander that Guro Foundry had donated one hundred 81 mm mortars and tens of thousands of rounds of ammunition.”
“A donation?”
I laughed incredulously.
Someone like Choi Manseok making donations?
Even a passing dog would laugh at that.
“They call it a donation, but it’s obvious. His position was in danger, so he pulled out hidden funds to stage a show.”
“I see.”
“For some reason, the items they brought even passed quality testing. The Supreme Commander ordered them sent to the Northern Front immediately tomorrow.”
But I actually felt calmer.
This was exactly the scenario I had expected.
“So they passed testing…”
I took a USB drive from my pocket and handed it to Kang Cheolmin.
“Take a look at this.”
“What is it?”
“The truth behind Colonel Park’s ‘donation.’”
He inserted the USB into his U-Link terminal.
The video filled the screen with a factory interior where glowing molten metal flowed like lava.
[Hiss—]
It was footage from Guro Foundry’s production floor, captured by a spider cam that infiltrated through a ventilation duct.
Technicians in the video handled molten metal with no safety gear, while Choi Manseok shouted at them beside the furnaces.
—Hey! Hurry up! The colonel is waiting!
—Factory manager, the cooling time is insufficient! At this rate the durability—
—Shut up! As long as it looks good on the outside! I’m not the one firing it anyway!
Kang Cheolmin’s eyes grew wider.
Then came the decisive moment.
Instead of forging barrels, molten metal was poured into molds like stamping fish-shaped pastry.
“This… these lunatics!”
Kang Cheolmin exploded.
“They cast the barrels?! Those aren’t weapons—they’re ticking bombs!”
He replayed the footage again and again in disbelief.
The difference between forging and casting was the difference between heaven and earth.
If a barrel designed to withstand high pressure was cast instead, the heat and pressure of automatic fire would make it explode.
A suicide weapon that would kill the soldier using it.
“My God… if these reach the front lines…”
Kang Cheolmin’s fingers trembled.
He was probably imagining the horrific scene—barrels bursting as soldiers fired in unison, limbs blown apart.
“I must report this to the Supreme Commander immediately! We must stop—”
“It’s too late.”
I cut him off coldly.
“The shipment has probably already left. Even if you report now, Colonel Park will deny everything, and while verification drags on, the front line will collapse. More likely, he was deceived by Choi Manseok as well.”
“…Then what do you expect me to do? Just watch it happen?”
Kang Cheolmin looked at me desperately.
I stood up and walked toward the containers.
“That’s why I prepared something.”
Click.
I unlocked the first container and pulled the door open.
Creeeak—
The heavy door swung wide, releasing a strong smell of oil.
Kang Cheolmin and Sergeant Seo’s eyes widened.
Inside, rows of matte-black 81 mm mortars were stacked in perfect formation.
“Th-this is…?”
“81 mm mortars. Exactly one hundred of them.”
Ignoring Kang Cheolmin’s stunned expression, I opened the other containers one by one.
Clank! Bang!
Each container that opened widened his jaw even further.
“Five thousand mortar shells. Four hundred K-2 rifles. Ten thousand grenades. And 450,000 rounds of 5.56 mm ammunition.”
The scheduled second delivery had been about 160 K-2 rifles and 25 K-4s.
But we produced more than double that.
That’s why the last three days had been absolute hell.
Sergeant Seo muttered quietly.
“Sir… I’ll request additional transport personnel…”
Getting the mortar blueprint hadn’t been easy either.
When Picker infiltrated Guro Foundry to record footage earlier, he confirmed they were manufacturing mortars.
While no one was watching, I secretly sent Porter to swipe one.
The prototype itself was a defective cast piece, but understanding the design structure wasn’t difficult.
“Realizing the urgency of the situation, Atlas mobilized all available manpower and facilities.”
Picker burst out laughing.
—Pfft! Manpower? Drone-power, sir.
—Drone-power. A word with proper weight.
Ignoring the bickering between Picker and Porter while I tried to maintain dignity, I kept my expression steady.
Kang Cheolmin stared at the containers with a complicated look of awe and discomfort.
“…Remarkable. Your abilities and Atlas’s production capacity exceed my imagination. You’ve done extraordinary work.”
He placed a hand on my shoulder and lowered his head.
“But… I’m sorry. Right now we don’t have enough cores to pay immediately for this enormous shipment.”
He looked genuinely apologetic.
A man with a conscience.
“Lieutenant Colonel.”
I spoke in a deliberately solemn voice.
“You can pay later.”
“What?”
“If these supplies don’t reach the front immediately, the Northern Front is in danger. If the front collapses, the country falls. And if the country falls, Atlas is finished as well.”
I looked straight into his eyes.
“This is a contribution to the nation.”
“…!”
His eyes shook violently.
In this ruined world, where people risk their lives over a single sip of water or one bullet—
Donating this level of supplies for the greater good was beyond his comprehension.
“…Are you serious?”
“Just as soldiers defend the nation with their lives, technicians defend the nation with their technology.”
When I drove the point home, Kang Cheolmin’s eyes turned red.
He grabbed my hand tightly.
“Thank you… truly. I will never forget this. I swear… I will repay you.”
I had made this bet after judging the kind of man Kang Cheolmin was.
If he received a favor, he would absolutely repay it.
And if this incident removed Park Jinseop and gave him real power within the military?
The return would far exceed a few cores.
“Move quickly. There’s no time.”
“Understood. Sergeant Seo! Load as much as we can immediately and call for transport!”
“Yes, sir!”
As soldiers hurried to load the containers into the trucks, I folded my arms and smiled in satisfaction.
Then Picker’s voice echoed.
—Lieutenant Colonel Kang Cheolmin… you’ve just shaken hands with the devil.
Not the devil.
More like a major shareholder.
Picker was still bitter about the last three days of repetitive labor.
I smiled wryly to myself.
Sorry, Picker.
But if the same situation happens again—
I’ll probably make you work again.
After all, I’ve fully experienced the power of parallel production.