Chapter 125
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 125
Chapter Title: April Vengeance (14)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
#April Vengeance (14)
Mosquitoes that land on mutants die. Beasts that eat infected corpses suffer from indigestion. The filthy blood and flesh are toxic. Its effects on humans? Unknown. No one eats it, and there were certainly no human experiments.
A flurry of thoughts raced through his mind.
Its intelligence was too high for a mutant. Around eta (η) ghoul level, they could use basic vocabulary. But only mimicking human speech. Full sentences were out of the question.
Moreover, the man retained memories from his living days. He recognized the boy's face and spoke his name.
If not a mutant, then the result of eating what shouldn't be eaten. Impaired intelligence and rotting skin. How much did he eat? How long until symptoms appeared? The latter was crucial. If intelligence degradation was ongoing, the rotting man could turn feral at any moment.
Right now, even.
He couldn't travel with a ticking time bomb. But killing him was problematic too. He was an important specimen.
Subdue him. Silently. One solid hit should do it. Winter approached the man. Pretending to accept his kindness, extending a hand. It stabbed at the opening with a surprise attack. Power restrained, but faithful to the goal. A blurred fist struck the man.
Crack-!
‘Reaction speed……!’
It hit, but not the desired vital spot. The pained man rolled instinctively. More agility than expected—Winter failed to grab him in time. Crash! The rotting man toppled a display case. Dodging with superhuman speed, colliding even more noisily. And he wailed.
“It huuurts! It huuuurts-! Whyyy, why, why hit me? Huh? Whyyy diiiid you hiiiit meee-!”
A chorus of howls echoed. Monsters drawn by the commotion swarming in packs. Winter grimaced and fired his rifle at the man. Bang bang! Just two shots. Both calves shredded. Not fatal. He had no intention of killing the valuable specimen. Pain enough to prevent escape during the fight sufficed.
Finish the fight, then emergency treatment to staunch the bleeding. Worries about dragging him along could wait. Battle loomed. First, knock the man out.
“Kwaaaaah! Blood! Blooood! It huuuurts! Looook! Blooood—it's coooming out heeere!”
The man shrieked. His ugly face twisted in horrific terror. He hurled a display case at Winter. A nuisance attack. As Winter dodged half a step, the man shattered reinforced glass with panicked punches. His forearms became bloodied as a result. But better than his legs, apparently. He leaped on his arms instead of legs. Another surprise beyond Winter's expectations.
He bolted from the shop. Away from the boy, toward the mutants.
Darkness flashed. Muzzle flares from shooting. Three 30-round magazines emptied in 16 seconds of aimed frenzy. The horde aimed at by Winter bursting from the shop couldn't advance a step. They were pushed back instead. A group already thinned out beforehand. If it were the original numbers, mass would have overwhelmed.
Winter's adaptation to enhanced combat skills was still incomplete. How far possible, how far not? The boundary unclear. Unadapted abilities were dangerous tools.
Still, this fight was winnable. Hiding in the shop had been for the rotting man's safety. No confidence in protecting him amid fierce combat. Back then, he was just another survivor.
Inside the line pushed back by 14th-grade 「Personal Firearms Proficiency」 bullet hell lay the gear hastily left behind. Winter broke through to that point. Excluding scattered survivors, it was an open field of corpses. Squishy ground easy to traverse and leap on. Thanks to various buffs.
An obstacle for the mutants, instead. Hard to reach full speed. Hard to maintain balance. Creatures with subhuman equilibrium to begin with. Against those constantly tripping, Winter unleashed overwhelming firepower. The more he poured, the more advantageous the environment became. Nearly a swamp of accumulated mutant fluids. Spent casings rattled as they poured out. Heat haze and smoke rose from inside the barrel shroud. He quickly pulled a canteen and poured water. Sizzle—the boiling sound momentary.
Dozens of magazines remained in the pack. Plenty of grenades too.
‘Can't let him escape. Can't let him die.’
Winter tracked the fleeing man visually, then faltered. The mutants weren't attacking the rotting man. They charged only at Winter, teeth gnashing. The arm-leaping man crossed the horde unhindered. And vanished from sight.
Did they see him as kin? But Winter thought he wasn't a mutant.
Pushing aside bewilderment, Winter tossed three grenades and a flashbang nearly simultaneously. Even haphazard throws hit marks thanks to 「Throwing」 buffs. Grenade fuses burned down 3 seconds. Winter embedded three bullets in the nearest three, then flattened himself, shielding eyes and ears.
The bang resonated to the bones. Vibration intense enough to throb molars.
Rising immediately, a hand loomed before Winter. He seized and snapped it. Stepped on the shoulder to crush, kicked the head.
About twenty killed by grenades. Shrapnel blocked by bodies. Survivors struggled to stand. Overlapping blasts and intense flash indoors. Winter mass-produced death with calm shots. Piercing gunfire. Tinnitus ringing eeeee-.
Just as he thought most cleared, a new wave surged. Even from the 4th floor, apparently. Winter in a bind here, but ceiling thumps changed his mind. He grabbed the pack one-handed. Fired nine shots one-handed while hugging the wall. Crowding risky, but a vent grate was here.
Pistol against the vent, multiple shots. To alert whatever was inside. Swapped weapons instantly, loaded rifle with a scarce drum magazine.
‘Might be hard to use later.’
Heavily loaded mags prone to jams. Better use while rifle pristine.
Screeeeech!
Amid 20-round bursts, the awaited emerged. Winter glimpsed and grabbed it. Smashing would burst fluids, so crushed bones with grip strength. Crunch. Fetal mutant's soft bones shattering. Swollen one as bomb, thrown. Straight-flying bio-bomb hit ceiling, burst over mutant heads.
Primal screams erupted. Winter cleared the lead ranks first. As expected, followers flailed in air. Many eyes burned. Faces pockmarked melting. Intact ones collided with damaged.
Thump thump. Small ones approached relentlessly inside the vent. Numbers read via 「Combat Sense」 and 「Insight」 linkage, plus 「Survival Instinct」 warnings. Six coming, no gaps.
A bit short, but... Winter gauged remaining vent distance. Moments later, small monsters dropped from ceiling. Leap power immense for tiny frames. Seemed shot toward Winter. But mouths small. Easy to dodge chittering ones, grab. Captured ones thrashed but didn't self-detonate, apparently.
New mutants always functionally imbalanced. How would these fare evolved?
Winter shook a grabbed one violently. Snap. Neck broken just like that. Dodged or shoved remaining bouncers, threw swelling corpses with 「Throwing」. After killing and hurling the last five, the first exploded. Boom! Pop! Chain blasts at chandelier height.
Follow-up fire. Scrubbed spaces untouched by blast first. As always, combat about creating space.
Winter slipped into the space he made. Blinded, smoldering hands reaching. Narrow, precarious path amid them. Removed only real threats.
Blinded mutants sensed hosts via smell and sound alone. Grabbed each other to sniff. Then screeeeech! Released often. Recaptured prior grabs common. Even intact ones foot-bound. Couldn't escape rotten web, glared at Winter with eyes alone. Screeeeech!
Bang bang bang! Most dangerous at gunfire. Writhing path contracted. Had to move instantly post-shot. Or get buried, bitten. 「Close Combat」 shone. Adapting to enhanced skills bonus amid strikes.
Oh, right. This. Winter pulled pocket nuisance. Threw, single shot. Clink—glass shattering. Perfume scattered. Cloying scent spread. Mutant senses gravely disrupted. Web stickier.
Finally, Winter escaped the howling maze. Crimson-lit liner casino. Backpedaling, precision shots on intact ones. Bang! Bang! Tangled horde turned at gunfire. But at entangled speed. Straight-gazing ones targets. Successive shots. Nearby, wide board and round wheel. Casings bounced into roulette. Clear metal clinks rolled over 38 numbers. Winter tilted head. Switch on wheel side.
Memory surfaced from CCTV footage. Manual spin for actual gambling, display spin otherwise.
Winter stood, emptied a magazine. Casings poured into roulette.
Then, with only blinded left, flipped switch. Ding, ting, ting. Single ball stops on number, but multiple casings didn't. Unceasing clear bounces drew sightless mutants.
‘At least as good a lure as the commotion below…….’
Luxury cruise like 5-star seahotel. Soundproofing solid. Even blind ones pouring down during survivor escape would headache.
Winter withdrew quietly. Face-skin drooping mutants swarmed roulette board. Agonized contortions like gambling frenzy.
Time to chase the escapee. 「Tracking」-highlighted traces: red handprints. Leg blood soaked hands, apparently. Upside-down, yet leaped so well. Laughable sight, but actually threatening. Beyond beta ghoul physicals. Balance especially rare in mutants.
Winter poured water on barrel, followed traces. Faint steam wisping. Harshly used in short, fierce skirmish. Would need barrel swap later.
Not rifling-mangled bad, judgment affirmed by 「Combat Sense」.
Traces led to central stairs downward.
In silence-granted respite, Winter pondered man's identity again.
Intelligent, emotional monster. Emotion snagged on past. Special mutant hunchback. Fought it, but clear fearful gestures. As if purpose not combat. Copious pus common to man and old monster.
No, hasty guess. No clues to confirm. Pus oozes from normal mutants too. Immune rejection byproduct.
Perhaps vaccine clue. Morgellons vaccine normally requires 「Plague Immunity」, but... who knows. Worldview shifting unusually.
Better capture somehow. Winter focused on reality. Blood trails fading. Meaning dirty man's bleeding slowed. Yet no stops in pursuit so far. Superhuman recovery too.
Tracking unhindered. Straight path. 4th deck center empty, fore-aft bulkheaded.
Entered 3rd floor: restaurant immediately. Largest, grandest of tiered ones. Opposite: Grand Galley.
Rotting man in vast hall center. But not alone.
Winter muttered.
Isn't this a bit much?
============================ Author's Notes ============================
#Traditional Wuxia
I've always wanted to write traditional wuxia someday. Not new style. But looking at Steam sales... probably not...
#Q&A
Q. Onion Mushroom-nim: @Whoa. A sentient infected discovered...?
A. Hmm. Who knows. Heh heh. Ketaro-nim left a long comment on that man's identity—some right, some wrong.
Q. PAM-nim: @Korea... well, look up top, could collapse anytime. This incident was entertaining too. News like drama or movie.
A. Yeah, tough era for writers. Reality outdoes novels... But if I'd written "Shaman puppeteering the president!" before this, it'd be dismissed as plot-hole riddled. Haha.
Q. qoewh-nim: @Author-nim question. Characters' emotions too vivid for AI, even great control AI. Something off. Thus, question! Among worlds run by other players excluding Winter, any with this vivid emotion implementation? If yes, how many?
A. Hm... Answering spoils, but not major...
None.
Winter's TOM rating and aptitude unique. Talent bloomed by environment is the issue.
Q. qoewh-nim: @My guess: Original creators not frying chicken, pretending while monitoring all? Black幕s?
A. Heh heh heh. No. Not at all.
Q. Nesstor-nim: @If Korean peninsula geography mentioned, maybe. Korea...? What's that? (Lol)
A. Hmm. Who knows. Heh heh.