A Game of Tag

By the time I reached Hongje Station, zombie corpses were strewn in every direction. They handled it cleanly. The mannequins were waiting exactly where I had told them to. Looks like the zombie understood its orders, too.

The police station sat right beside Hongje Station, and the noise coming from inside was a little too lively.

And the zombie was completely destroyed.

Restore.

I put it back together, then gave the next order.

Bite.

The instant the command left me, a roar burst out of the police station.

"Graaaaaagh!"

The zombie had been destroyed all over again. Destroyed or not, I didn't need to care.

Bestow Will.

A new puppet would still be left to me.

"Bite through the ankle."

"Grrrrrh..."

I sent the zombie into the police station. You lot, haul the zombie corpses back. The mannequins that had been watching from a distance nodded and moved off toward the bank.

"Graaaaaaagh!!"

Bestow Will.

I deployed a fresh zombie.

About ten minutes passed that way.

"Gwooooorrrrgh!"

I had drawn out the Tier 2 police zombie. A massive frame, arms swollen far past anything human. A glancing blow would have left a person as paste. It's even holding a baton? I had never seen one carrying a weapon before. Tier 2 zombies can pick up weapons? The security zombie was bare-fisted.

Even so, I couldn't feel the overwhelming presence I had sensed from that security zombie. One of its ankles was already ruined.

Yeah. This works.

Zombies don't react to other zombies. Not when one of them wails, and not when one of them smashes something and kicks up noise — so long as it doesn't accidentally strike another zombie in the process. The same held for a Tier 2. But the moment a zombie sank its teeth into that ankle—

Crunch.

It should have been pulp. I didn't care. A war of numbers was no longer the zombies' exclusive privilege, and the result of using that advantage ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to gnaw at an ankle without letting up was plain enough.

Limp. Limp.

It had been reduced to a punching bag, eating a one-sided beating.

Click. Click-click-click-click.

Puppet 1 danced the light across it, baiting the thing like it was a joke.

"Graaaaaagh!"

Thud!

A blow scythed through the other leg and kept going. The zombie tried to wheel toward Puppet 2. Not a chance.

Crack!

"Graah?!"

Wham!

Every time it tried to turn, the Tier 2 ate another mindless beating. Set against the pressure of the first time I had faced a Tier 2, it was a sight I never could have imagined.

And yet, watching it, I couldn't understand why a game of tag between a murderer and a survivor kept surfacing in my head.

Ugh. The PTSD...

Click. Click-click-click-click.

Somehow I was the one eating the flash, and then—

Whack!

It felt like a plank coming down across me.

"Zombie's not an idiot..."

The Tier 2 could do nothing but flail. And yet—

Is it actually getting flash-blinded?

Its reaction was wrong. With the flashlight burning straight into its eyes—

"Gwor?!"

—it raked at empty air, as if it had lost all sense of direction.

I've never seen a reaction like that. Then again, of course I hadn't. Using a flashlight inside the Tower was practically insanity. Nobody used one in the footage, and I almost never used one myself. Think about it, though, and the reaction was obvious. Zombies respond sharply to light. So what happens if you hit eyes already adjusted to the dark with a hard beam?

Obviously they get flash-blinded!

While the Tier 2 was still reeling, Puppet 1 wound up in a wide, spinning arc.

Whoosh— whoosh—

Crunch!

The shovel came down and bit into its neck. The zombie staggered.

Thud!

It couldn't hold, and it crashed onto its back. Flash-blinded, with its ankles already useless, it had nothing left to stand on.

Thock! Thock! Crack!

The mannequins went at the fallen body in the open, climbing over it as they struck. A red light gathered at the nape of its neck, and Puppet 1 drove the iron shovel straight through the neck bone.

Crunch!

With the message, red light burst from the point of impact.

I stepped in close to the Tier 2. The head came clean off. The neck had separated neatly. Even honed on an E-Grade whetstone, the edge of an iron shovel shouldn't have been able to shear through a neck that thick. So this is the Summary Execution effect? That last blow might not even have finished it. Not without Summary Execution.

The effect really is absolute. For shutting down variables, there was no skill better.

Something glinted at my feet. I checked it.

"This was an item?!"

It was the baton the Tier 2 had been holding. Right... no wonder the zombies were getting pulverized. Monstrous strength or not, an ordinary baton could never have done that.

For a second I thought, maybe? Was I being greedy? Still, this is more than usable. Stamp a grade on a weapon and it sits in a different world from an ordinary one. Better still, the shop could repair it. I'll have Puppet 1 use this.

A nod. I had weapons to spare anyway, so I had the iron shovel kept as a backup.

I stepped into the police station. What a wreck. The zombie I had sent in bit the Tier 2, the enraged thing tore the interior to pieces, and the other Tier 1 zombies got ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠cleaned up along the way. See if there's anything worth taking.

A nod. I no longer ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had to comb through every corner myself.

And yet.

"Whoa, shit! An armor item!!"

Of course I was the one who found it first.

A glint. A stab-proof vest sat inside a cabinet. I scanned it at once.

"Ohhh! Are you kidding me?! It absorbs impact?!"

That was the option I had wanted most. At D-Grade, a Tier 1 zombie's teeth wouldn't even sink in. The real danger was everything else — a security zombie's fists, a police zombie swinging a baton, the attack of a Tier 2 I failed to see coming. I needed something that could stop blows and blunt the shock. And here it is. The stab resistance was excellent on its own, too. I might run into another bastard threatening me with a cleaver, the way I had last time.

First, off with the reinforcement I already layered on. In its place, to push the shock absorption as far as it would go, I cut the folding camping mat from the sportswear shop into broad panels and laid them over the neoprene hoodie, then pulled the anti-stab vest on over that. This feels seriously solid. I was a little bulkier, but the defense wouldn't even compare to before. Over the vest, I put the leather jacket back on.

I was just finishing the armor when a tap came at my side. Puppet 1 had gathered everything useful from deeper inside.

A police station really does have plenty worth taking.

"Good work."

Nod, nod. A dip of the head, and then a thumbs-up. I couldn't help a laugh.

I stepped back outside and checked the map. Hmm. There were still places worth looting, but I didn't have that much time. If I've stripped the area well enough, should I move on?

I was still turning it over when—

"Hm?"

Echo Sonar picked up something approaching from far off. Ah. That one. It was the toy I had sent out earlier. It was staggering, as if it were hauling something heavy. I went out to meet it.

"Hup! You brought a key?!"

Nod, nod. Small as the key was, it was as big as the toy's whole body, and it had still carried the thing back. I set the nodding little figure on my palm.

"Good job."

Nod, nod.

Maybe it's the size, but that's cute. Heh.

I scanned the key.

It really was a safe key. Good thing I sent it out! I had wondered whether something that small could find anything useful at all, and here it had hit a jackpot.

"Was there a safe near the key?"

A shake of the head.

"Then where did you get this?"

I happened to have the map open, so I showed it. Tap. The toy pointed at Yuil Arcade.

Yuil Arcade... I had figured there would be something worth taking there. I had also figured the inside would be packed with zombies, which was why I had steered clear. Should I take a look? There might be a safe.

Tap, tap.

"Hm? What?"

Another shake.

"You're telling me there isn't a safe?"

Nod, nod. It had already searched the place. That saved me the trip. Then, before I headed up, I ought to check the extraction quota.

I stepped up to the gate.

There were still openings. They've probably ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠all extracted by now. At this hour, they would have. Almost no one lingered as long as Sia or I did. The standard routine was to farm fast the moment you entered, then get out. Farming for a long time didn't mean you could carry it all out with you. A bag only holds so much. Unless, like me, you had a subspace backpack.

The problem is what I do with this.

I still needed to confirm whether it could reach overseas regions. But— then I won't be able to go to Myeongdong. I was reluctant to jump to another domestic region, too. If I was going to use it, better to learn the geography first and go after that. There was no telling what would happen in a place I didn't know. The backroute key test can wait until the next entry. Above all, I couldn't forget what this entry was for.

I stepped into the gate leading up to the second floor.

"Huh?"

A window called Storage had appeared in the Tower of Calamity app. I tapped it.

"A rank-one perk?!"

Did something like this exist? No — if a new perk had just been unlocked, then it must not have been there before. Options first.

If the description was right, this is basically sending my stuff home ahead of time!

Say the subspace backpack was full. Unless I sold something or threw it away, I couldn't keep farming. But if I used Storage? I can leave it there and keep farming! And if I needed something later, I could pull it back out.

But "any point where the shop menu is active"... At home. At the Association. Anywhere outside the Tower?

"Holy shit!!"

The convenience of it was overwhelming. An absolute jackpot had just gone off.