Chapter 63
Chapter 63
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 63
Chapter Title: New People - 4
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After Kwon bit the dust, the golf course survivors were at a complete loss.
Their memories were a jumbled mess, and plenty of them had no clue why society had collapsed.
They grasped that the world they knew was gone and that this thing called the system had popped up, but they couldn't fully wrap their heads around it.
Who could stay sane knowing they now had to fight tooth and nail just to survive?
The survivors were furious.
The culprit behind it all, Kwon, was already a corpse.
They couldn't vent their rage at a dead man, so they needed someone else to pin it on.
One guy spoke up.
—From what I remember, we need one person to die to stop the zombie raid!
—Who said that?
—I-I saw it on the internet! It said it's dangerous if five or more people gather...
—Bullshit. Then why's it so quiet now? We've got eleven people—zombies should be swarming!
—That old guy's suspicious.
The instigator was cornered.
He'd openly pointed fingers at someone, but now he was the one getting riled up against.
—We just need one person gone, right? Let's kill that old guy! He looks weak!
—Yeah. You're the one who needs to go.
—Surround him and attack!
—Y-you think you'll get off scot-free if you kill me?
The guy who'd tried stirring up the crowd was suddenly surrounded, squealing until he dropped dead.
A pathetic end for the instigator.
But the survivors' anger hadn't subsided.
They'd caught on that the one-room village survivors had swiped their supplies.
—They must've stolen them while we were busy talking.
—Those bastards.
—That's our stuff!
—Let's kill those punks and take it back!
Their aimless fury finally had a target.
Having just broken free from brainwashing, they didn't know the basics that other survivors took for granted.
Like how gathering five or more was dangerous.
Or how committing two murders got you registered as a killer in the system.
They could've asked nearby survivors, but rage left no room for thought.
In the midst of it, the two women settled on three relatively young, decent-looking guys, while the rest objected.
—Hang on, don't we deserve a shot too?
—A shot at what? You think we're prizes? We got used by that bastard already—that's bad enough!
—This is hilarious. In the old world, guys like you wouldn't have given us the time of day. You know that?
—I was just listening quietly. Say that again.
—It's not wrong, but maybe the old guy could step aside.
—And who are you?
—Do we really need exactly five?
—That dead guy said so. Better safe than sorry.
It was a powder keg ready to blow.
Someone redirected the anger.
—Let's not fight among ourselves—deal with the thieves first! That'll fix it!
—We'll talk later! Kill those bastards first!
—Hell yeah!
The mood flipped instantly to condemning the thieves.
—We're all going! Anyone who tries to bail now gets it!
The ten of them banded together.
Trying to back out now would make you the target of their wrath.
Meanwhile, Cheol-jun and Yu-ju secretly clasped hands away from the others.
Both tall and handsome, they seemed destined for each other.
No matter what the others said, they planned to bail.
After the immediate fire was out, anyway.
The ten headed to the one-room village, hunting goblins along the way.
It was such a remote spot that zombies were scarce.
Finally, they surrounded the building they suspected held survivors and unleashed a barrage of attacks.
The three survivors inside couldn't just take it—they fought back.
The one-room village turned into a warzone.
And amid it all, some people moved quietly.
The gym crew and Captain Kim sensed the battle and quietly started packing.
Mi-kyung and Yu-hyun shone brightest in situations like this.
They weren't powerhouses in combat, but their scouting and mobility were unmatched.
Yu-hyun relayed the fight in real-time via paper airplane, while Mi-kyung shuttled people and gear bit by bit.
In under ten minutes, the five of them and their stuff were moved to the outskirts.
A paper airplane flew to me too.
—Should I come get you, Mi-kyung? Take a seat—the place is a mess.
I shook my head.
"Nah. I'll join up later. You guys go ahead. Got something to check."
The airplane hovered silently for a moment before slipping out the window crack.
Smart folks—they wouldn't make trouble by waiting on me.
Though I'd laid the groundwork, saying solo ops yielded results.
I peered down from the rooftop.
"They all showed up."
Attacking was fine, but they'd forgotten to use their traits— just kept firing arrows nonstop.
Had all their brainwashed memories vanished?
"Still, they're a threat."
The three murderer survivors were still hunkered down.
Potshotting back with arrows now and then.
Watching from above was putting me to sleep.
Should I just bail?
Nothing worth sticking around for...
Right then, one attacker groaned and crumpled.
An arrow jutted from his back.
"Sniped from behind!"
"Scatter! Scatter!"
The attackers dispersed into nearby buildings in small groups.
"Now we're cooking."
Two clear murders committed—time for the killer event.
But the telltale thud signaling deathmatch start never came.
"Ah... no zombies here."
In-game, zombies spawned anywhere anytime, but reality didn't work that way.
This remote goblin-light area meant zombies would take time to wall them in.
So no killer event?
Thump... Thump... Thump...
A faint heartbeat echoed.
Stealth-type killer would be a pain to handle.
"Options here..."
Another scream rang out.
This time, attackers had taken out a defender.
Then heartbeats started from elsewhere.
"Two killers."
Never happened in Survival Life.
Not enough users, let alone killers.
Tuning in, the heartbeats darted close, far, chaotic.
I was used to it via headphones, but anyone else would freak.
First, confirm the killers.
I headed to the first floor, focusing through the dimension gate.
Thump... Thump...
Several people and a presumed killer in hot pursuit.
—Don't come closer! Stay back!
—Wait! Just talk for a sec!
Amusingly, the killer couldn't accept reality.
"Rookie killer. Right, Dingo?"
He yawned indifferently.
Being a killer didn't always shatter your mind.
The previous one was brainwashed; initially, awareness stayed intact.
Vision reddens, targets visible—murder urge kicks in, sure.
Waiting, someone bellowed.
—Flinging rocks while talking? Get lost, killer scum!
The other killer had telekinesis.
I focused max to map the scene.
Honestly, stopping murders wasn't my priority.
Just wanted points from ID checks.
"Bonus if I snag supplies too."
Taeshilter's stash was untouchable, but a bunker? Fine.
No zombie wall meant they dodged killers easily.
But another scream.
"Two down already."
More kills meant heavy buffs—risky for me.
Not deathmatch yet, but time to end one here.
Gearing up, distant zombies approached.
"Long trip—thanks for coming."
Raid or deathmatch first?
Two killers—thud, thud.
Deathmatch begun.
Cheol-jun and Yu-ju just pretended to fight.
Planning to flee once done, they lacked enthusiasm.
Grab some supplies and dip—that was the plan.
But trouble brewed.
Screams and heartbeats intertwined.
"W-what's that?"
"Cheol-jun, what's that sound?"
"No idea. Hide first."
Hands tight, they ducked into a building stairwell.
Just survive to bunker—that was it. Keep running.
But heartbeats persisted.
They bumped into a man on the stairs.
"Huh?"
No one there before?
As Cheol-jun hesitated, the man spoke.
"There you are."
"W-who are you?"
"That matter right now?"
He brandished a bloodied ceramic knife.
Cheol-jun and Yu-ju froze.
A killer faced them.
"Hear that...? Thump-thump-thump. Thought it was mine... nope. Yours."
His knife pointed at them.
Seemed a bit unhinged.
He chuckled softly.
"Wanna know how I found you? I can see your positions. Like a big 'kill me' sign... haha."
"Yu-ju, go up!"
"Cheol-jun..."
They clutched each other's clothes.
The killer licked his lips, stalking up the stairs.
His eyes bloodshot red.
"I'm crazy strong now. Killing's a breeze. So hurry..."
Something speared from his chest.
"Huh?"
What the—?
He touched it—skin split on contact, razor-sharp.
Finally realized he'd been stabbed.
"Which bastard..."
His other arm smashed the wall.
Marble cracked—crunch—but that was it.
A verdigris blade already withdrawn sliced his throat.
"Gurk!"
Done.
Head lolled off; body slumped slow.
Blood fountained; Cheol-jun and Yu-ju screamed.
Beyond, a man silently sheathed his blade.
Big helmet, black clothes—face obscured.
"Run. Zombies incoming."
"W-what?"
"Keep 'what'-ing and you're dead."
Cheol-jun pinched his nose at the thick blood reek.
This guy maybe...
"The one who killed Kwon Kyung-jun..."
"Me."
Sung-ho shrugged it off.
Stealth killer, tricky—but revealed himself.
Probably wanted to toy with them.
As he turned to leave, Yu-ju shrieked.
"Why! Why didn't you tell us?!"
"...Tell what?"
"After killing Kwon! You could've explained! What happened!"
"Why would I?"
Yu-ju was speechless.
Sung-ho was baffled.
"You left quietly—I figured you'd be grateful. What grudge? Expected a teacherly rundown? To eleven people?"
"Y-you stole our supplies!"
"Killed Kwon, so that's mine. Rest I left you. Should've grabbed what you could, learned the info, and bounced. Why come here? Now you're all doomed."
"Doomed?"
Cheol-jun asked; Sung-ho's long knife pointed outside.
Zombies swarming already.
"While you dawdle, zombies surround us. Never heard of zombie raids?"
They paled.
It was real.
Sung-ho sheathed his knife, eyed out.
"Wanna live? Run now. Northward."
"W-what about you?"
"Bitten by zombies, still questioning?"
Quit stalling and go.
"Yu-ju!"
Cheol-jun grabbed her arm, bolted downstairs.
Sung-ho stepped aside; they fled.
"Could've been curious sooner."
Mitigating factors.
Fresh from brainwashing, no trait mastery, full of questions.
But in apocalypse, ignorance is sin.
No one cares your sob story.
Grrraaah!
Caaaaw!
Sung-ho tallied amid zombie chaos outside.
"Let's see... today's haul."
Two killers down: 300 points, Death's Brand skill, item.
Item dud, but 300 points juicy.
Death's Brand—the killers' survivor-tracking skill.
They eventually got infrared vision, but irrelevant to users.
"Track with Lifeform Pursuit, confirm with Death's Brand, strike... solid."
Marked by it? You're dead.
Zombies breached; Sung-ho casually packed, dimension-gated out.
Goalless zombies flailed, exited.
One-room village quieted.
"Any bites on the summons?"
"Not many. Maybe three..."
Jang Won-taek and Bae Geom-in smoked on the shelter roof, chatting.
Big age gap, but Jang didn't mind.
Owed his life to him.
Later learned awakened nearby upped zombie avoidance—huge relief.
He hid some motives, but tolerable.
Jang flicked ash; it hit a zombie pounding below.
"More people, better... How's the labyrinth event?"
"Kimbap Lover took first. 38 minutes—insane."
"Never played, so no clue."
"Even in-game, clearing under an hour was near impossible. And only one life?"
"...Yeah. Ran like he was ready to die."
Jang clucked at the recklessness.
"Bunny Duo second, Duck Down Quack tenth-ish... Times behind, but points dominated. Must've wiped all monsters."
"Haha, hopeless cases."
Jang smacked his lips.
Such talents could secure the shelter.
But doubtful he'd snag them.
Even if, control?
Geom-in shifted topic.
"Labyrinth buzz now: met foreigners."
"Something's off."
Survival Life served Korea only.
V R gear exclusive—no foreigners.
Few tourists anyway.
Eyes met.
"Real foreigners...?"
"Possible. Korean Peninsula isolation maybe."
"September already—no typhoons, crisp air. PM2.5 gone."
"Hm..."
Jang stroked beard, flicked ash.
Needed more intel.
Gear trashed—send people.
Good had Blink user.
Jang excused, left; Geom-in summoned auction house.
'Time to work it.'
His presence.
Many owed him, yet Jang overshadowed.
Summons trio thrilled at "president alive."
He was sidelined.
Fine for normals.
Jang was president—future power.
But Geom-in couldn't sit.
'At least auction crew on my side.'
Exposed Survivor1 nonstop.
But no interest in Survivor1.
Auction stars: Bunny Duo, Duck Down Quack, Kimbap Lover.
Not flattering, but center stage—Geom-in jealous.
"I dropped the guide..."
Auction vets didn't need it—veteran players.
Few months, his beneficiaries arrive.
Patience.
Geom-in commented on vet location fights.
Harsh verdicts; Geom-in covered flushed face.
"...Last winner's me anyway."
He soothed, closed auction.
Sung-ho, checking his ID, grinned.
Survivor1—self-praiser type.
New People - 4 END