Chapter 147
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 147
Chapter Title: Boko Haram
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“Heh heh, wonder what fresh pieces we got today?”
Montai, one of the organization’s grunts, always felt best when it was time to pick up the goods.
Sure, there was the thrill of meeting new faces every day, but above all, he loved being the first to rape them.
“That’s why I can’t quit this job. It’s perfect for a guy like me.”
The joy of picking a new woman every single day made him forget he was a monster.
“And damn, they must’ve been desperate. That stingy bastard’s slashing the price by twenty percent.”
“Yeah, no kidding. Must’ve taken a bullet to the head or something.”
Whatever. Didn’t matter to him.
All he had to do was grab the goods, pick his favorite girl and rape her first, then haul the rest back to the organization.
“Boss, we’re here. Let’s unload.”
“Yeah, alright.”
Samir, the underling tagging along as backup, grinned and asked.
“You gonna take first pick again today?”
“Of course. When have you ever seen me pass?”
“They said three girls and one guy, right?”
“Yeah. Tie the guy up tight, and we each pick a girl. You know I go first.”
“You bet. When have I ever not let you?”
“Good man. Heh heh.”
The two snickered as they slung their assault rifles over their shoulders and stepped into the human traffickers’ den.
“Huh? Where’s everybody? Customers are here, and no one to greet us?”
“No guards in sight either.”
Maybe they’re all in the bathroom?
Shrugging it off, they trudged deeper.
That’s when they spotted it.
“Huh? What the hell’s that?”
Someone standing smack in the middle of the compound.
A dark-skinned Asian guy.
“Who the fuck’s that?”
Before he could even finish asking, Ryu Min summoned his scythe.
The two immediately snapped their rifles up, on high alert.
“That monkey fucker’s a Player!”
“Son of a bitch, no wonder it’s so quiet… Did he take them all out?”
No way there was an Asian in their organization.
Only explanation: the traffickers got hit.
“Kill him!”
Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat!
Tat-tat-tat-tat-tat!
Earsplitting gunfire erupted as muzzles flashed.
Ryu Min just took the bullet storm without a fight and crumpled.
“Son of a bitch, what the hell?”
“We get him?”
Then a voice came from behind them.
“Tsk tsk. What am I supposed to do if he recites a resurrection spell?”
“……!”
They whipped around in shock and saw it.
The Asian they’d just hosed with bullets, standing there like a ghost.
And some Asian woman watching them.
The grunt started to raise his gun, then let his arm drop.
“Controlled?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Good. Guess the decoy was worth it.”
The bullet sponge clone had vanished.
Ryu Min gave Yamtti a nod, and she turned to the grunts.
“Spill what your organization does.”
“We harvest organs from men and sell them, then use the leftovers for human meat. The women get gang-raped by our eight members in rotation, forcibly impregnated, and their babies sold off…”
“S-Stop! Shut up!”
At Yamtti’s command, the grunts clamped their mouths shut.
“Why stop?”
“I… I can’t hear any more.”
Yamtti turned away, looking like she’d puke just from listening.
After giving her a moment to compose herself, Ryu Min ordered.
“For now, use these guys to lead us into the organization.”
“Yes, got it. Sorry for interrupting, Master.”
“It happens. I understand.”
“T-Thank you. I’m so lucky to have such a generous Master, vast as the sea. I’ll obey you forever.”
“Obviously.”
Ryu Min was certain.
Climbing the org chart like this would eventually lead him to IS.
These were offshoots of IS anyway.
* * *
Medical facilities in northern Nigeria were abysmal.
Doctors were scarce as hell.
Some states had maybe two or three real ones—that said it all.
Maybe that’s why.
Victor Jaipale, hailing from southern Lagos, had ended up way up north, playing doctor for them.
“All done.”
He’d just used Emergency Treatment to heal a laceration and glanced at his patient.
Just your standard rifle-toting grunt.
As a Player, Victor could’ve killed the guy and bolted.
‘But then what?’
The organization he’d sworn loyalty to: Boko Haram.
No one knew where their splintered, branch-like network hid its main base.
But there were tons of captives here besides him.
Kids especially— snatched straight from class in a remote village school in Zamfara State.
He didn’t know their endgame, but as a doctor, he couldn’t just abandon them and run.
He’d grown attached living with them.
So why not kill all the grunts and escape together?
‘I want to. God, I want to.’
But Boko Haram wasn’t just normies.
Word was they had as many Players as regulars.
Just this outpost had thirty Players guarding the perimeter.
That’s why Victor hadn’t fled yet.
“Hey, Victor. What’re you thinking so hard about?”
“Huh? Oh, nothing.”
“Spacing out like that? Life treating you too soft lately? Huh? We treat you nice ’cause you’re the doc, so you think we’re pushovers? That it?”
“N-No, of course not.”
Victor waved it off awkwardly, cursing inwardly.
‘This pint-sized fuck…’
No choice but to endure.
Presence Detection picked up five Players nearby, and Area Scan dotted dozens more.
Above all, he couldn’t ditch the kidnapped kids and folks to save his own skin.
“Watch yourself, doc. Players can heal anyone now—no need for your sorry ass.”
“……”
“So now you’re wondering: if they can heal, why keep you alive? What d’you think?”
“W-Well…?”
“Gotta be the sentiment, right? All that bonding.”
Victor nearly snorted.
‘Sentiment? Bullshit. These subhuman beasts.’
He’d been their slave for a full year since IS grabbed him. He knew.
What depraved shit they pulled on their captives.
‘Sentiment my ass. It’s my abilities keeping me alive.’
They knew his class was Alchemist.
Not that he’d spilled it— he’d used a Healing Potion on a dying woman, got caught.
After that, they grilled him on his runes, skills, everything. Made him brew potions daily.
No clue what they did with them.
Probably black market sales to fatten their wallets or stockpiling for themselves.
‘Thank God I lied— said one per day, random types. Otherwise, the market’d be flooded…’
So yeah, “sentiment” was horseshit.
Alchemist was why they hadn’t gutted him.
You don’t cut open the golden goose, right?
“Just behave. Unless you wanna die.”
“Y-Yes… I’ll keep that in mind.”
The grunt smirked and left with his buddies.
A fellow Player dissed by normie thugs.
Victor sighed inwardly.
“Mister, you okay?”
“Oh, Ricky. How long you been watching?”
“From the start.”
Victor doted on the kids, and they loved him back.
Ricky was the clingiest, always chatting and pranking.
‘Now I get anxious if I don’t see the kid.’
Shaking his head, Victor asked carefully.
“You like it here, Ricky?”
“No way. It’s dirty and boring. And the gun guys scare me.”
Victor glanced around warily at that.
No presence detected, no one in sight. Only then did he speak.
“Okay, just suppose— pure what-if— I said let’s get outta here together. You’d come, right?”
“Yeah! I like you best, mister. I’d go with you!”
“Shh! Quiet. Someone hears, I get chewed out like before.”
“Oh, right. Shhh……”
Ricky clapping his tiny hand over his mouth brought a smile to Victor’s face.
But it faded fast.
At the boy’s next question, Victor stiffened.
“You gonna get us out, mister?”
“Huh? Not necessarily…”
“If you go, can’t the other kids come too? They all hate it here.”
“…….”
“Huh? Why no answer? We can’t?”
Victor couldn’t reply.
‘I want to. I really do…’
But escaping with ten kids undetected? No confidence.
‘Sigh. Escape? A pipe dream.’
Next round might kill him anyway, yet here he was fretting reality.
‘This world, that one— hell’s everywhere.’
He just wanted home.
Back to Lagos.
He thought of his parents and little sister multiple times a day.
‘She’s old enough to be a Player by now… Wonder if she made it to round nine like me?’
Kidnapped pre-Awakening, no news.
‘If I knew her nickname, maybe find her here…’
Then beg for rescue?
Victor chuckled bitterly at the thought.
‘Rescue? When I don’t even know where we are…’
Salvation was a luxury now.
Anyone slaved a year would say the same.
Ding-dong-ding!
A bell rang in the clearing.
The signal to gather captives.
“Let’s go.”
“Yeah!”
Victor and Ricky headed out.
The clearing already had a crowd.
Ten kids, fifteen adults, and fifty Boko Haram grunts.
Thirty of those fifty were Players.
Victor was the only Player among the adults.
‘No way out.’
Long given up on escape, he just wondered what the gathering was for.
“Everyone here?”
Boko Haram’s leader, Abu Bakr, swept his bulging eyes over the group, locking on Victor.
“Victor.”
“Y-Yes…?”
“You had fun deceiving me all this time, huh?”
“Huh?”
Victor flinched inwardly but feigned confusion.
“What do you mean…?”
“The potions you make. Not random, are they? And cooldown’s shorter than twenty-four hours.”
“…….”
Silence meant yes.
To fool them, he’d lied through his teeth.
But he was too rattled to keep it up.
“W-What are you talking about? I told the truth…”
“You think you’re the only Alchemist in the world?”
“…….”
“We found out about another during potion trafficking. Interrogated him— learned you were lying.”
“…….”
“How’s it feel? Properly hooked? Cat got your tongue— must be true.”
Victor cursed inside.
Why hadn’t he considered another Alchemist?
‘Arrogant fool. Thought lies would hold…’
But Victor didn’t know.
It was all a test to see if he’d crack.
He learned that when he admitted it himself.
“Why lie?”
“S-Sorry…!”
“Heh heh heh, sorry? Heh heh heh heh!”
The boss and grunts roared with laughter, mocking him.
Bewildered why, Victor got it from the boss’s words.
He’d fallen for it like an idiot.
“Thought you docs were smart. Nope, total moron. Falling for such a simple trap. Heh heh heh!”
“…….”
Abu Bakr’s guffaws cut off abruptly.
Grunts shut up, faces hardening.
Deadly silence fell.
“Victor.”
“…….”
“You dared deceive me, huh? Heh heh, had your fun? Laughed at your dumbass boss falling for lies? Heh heh, fine. I was stupid. But see…”
Abu Bakr’s fierce gaze shifted to the kids.
“I don’t forgive slights.”
At his nod, a grunt grabbed Ricky and dragged him forward.
“W-Why? Let go! Let me go!”
“Ricky!”
“That brat’s your little buddy, right?”
Victor felt peak dread at Abu Bakr’s sly grin.
In that instant, he regretted not fleeing— even just the two of them.
“What, buddy up to the kid for? This a daycare?”
“P-Please, no. I’m sorry for lying.”
“Nah, not about apologies.”
Sss—
A dagger materialized in Abu Bakr’s hand.
The level 40 Assassin Player poised to throw.
“I’m collecting for your fuckup. That kid dies because of you.”
“M-Mister!”
“N-No…!”
The dagger flew in a blink.
No stopping it.
Even as a Player, Victor couldn’t save Ricky twenty meters away.
He knew he couldn’t.
Ting-!
Until someone batted it away and appeared.
Swoosh—
As Abu Bakr’s eyes widened in shock, a figure materialized before Ricky.
Someone in a white mask, wielding a scythe.