Chapter 45
The protective gear worn by the Hunting Dog Alliance was black.
The dark brown gear worn by that “group” was equipment you could buy from the point shop.
Its performance was far inferior to what we were wearing, yet it was overpriced—gear only people who thought “better than nothing” would buy.
Rather than wasting points on something like that, I chose to raise my stats instead, protecting my forearms with magazines and notebooks as I grew stronger.
‘That’s why they’re capturing Makers.’
Makers produced far superior equipment, and later upgrades were possible—so of course they were being taken.
And those bastards were somewhere nearby… north of our group.
Should I eliminate them before they grew any bigger?
I couldn’t decide easily. I didn’t even know their numbers.
For now… the giant zombie comes first.
Thud—
I pushed the boy I’d been holding toward the man in his 40s.
The boy looked at me in a daze.
“Go.”
“….”
After hesitating for a moment, he quickly ran back to the man.
The man stepped in front of him protectively and spoke.
“…I sincerely apologize for attacking your group.”
“That’s not something an apology can fix.”
“….”
“People’s lives are at stake.”
The man lowered his head, unable to respond.
Then the woman in her 30s spoke up.
“…This may sound shameless, but… could we come with you?”
“Yes. It is a shameless request.”
“….”
“You attacked my group. That’s not something I can forgive.”
The woman’s face grew anxious.
“We… we have a lot of children. And as you can see, not many of us can fight.”
“That’s not my concern.”
“If we stay here, that group will come again. The scarecrow outside—that was made by them.”
“…Not you?”
“That scarecrow means… this place has already been stripped of anything worth taking.”
“….”
“But we still can’t relax. We never know when they’ll come back.”
Marking a place like that…
Those people were completely insane.
The woman continued, half in tears.
“My sister… and his wife…” she gestured to the policeman, “…they were taken by them…”
“…Did they die?”
Instead of answering, she wiped her tears and nodded.
I looked at everyone and asked:
“How many are you?”
“…What?”
“Total.”
“Nine. Two of them are still very young.”
“How young?”
“They’re not even seven yet.”
I brushed my hair back and asked:
“All Shooters?”
“Five Shooters, one Whisper, one Healing Factor. We could definitely help you—”
“No. You wouldn’t.”
I cut her off sharply.
Her lower lip trembled, and she began to cry.
The elderly man patted her back.
The man in his 40s bit his lip.
‘Five Shooters…’
In the future, no matter what happens, having more Shooters is useful.
But what our alliance needed most right now was a Whisper.
We already had enough Shooters.
And we couldn’t afford to take in five more.
Most people wouldn’t choose Whisper—it didn’t seem like a survival-focused role.
But I knew.
After second awakening, Whisper became indispensable.
Maybe even more important than a Shooter.
I looked at them and said:
“I can’t help you… but there might be someone who can.”
“…What?”
The woman wiped her tears and looked at me with wide eyes.
“W-who? Where?”
A group with children, and many Shooters.
There was someone who needed them.
Hong Yeon-hee, from the shelter.
I hadn’t seen everyone there, but it seemed they only had two Shooters.
Her, and the middle-aged man guarding the entrance.
Giving them trained Shooters with firearms…
She wouldn’t refuse.
“Go to Majang-dong.”
“Majang-dong? Where exactly?”
“I can’t tell you that.”
“…What?”
“Go there and survive. Prove you can survive—and that person will find you.”
Hong Yeon-hee had seen me fight.
That meant she was monitoring everything in Majang-dong.
If these people survived there—with children—
That would be enough to attract her attention.
The man in his 40s swallowed and asked:
“…Is it safe enough to take children there?”
“You’ll see when you get there.”
“Please… just a bit more information—”
“You attacked my group. You’re practically enemies.”
“….”
“I’ve already told you enough.”
“…I’m sorry.”
He bowed deeply.
Now he was speaking politely—finally treating me as someone worthy of respect.
The others followed and bowed as well.
But this apology… belonged to Elder Cheol-min.
“We don’t have much… but is there any way we can compensate you?”
I rubbed my chin.
Fair was fair.
“How many handguns do you have?”
“…You want guns?”
“Is that difficult?”
Points weren’t what we needed.
We could earn those ourselves.
We needed something harder to obtain.
Guns.
The woman looked to the man.
After a moment, he nodded.
“…We can give you the guns. But ammunition… we don’t have much.”
“The guns are enough.”
“…What?”
“I said, just the guns are enough.”
He looked confused.
Why take guns without bullets?
They didn’t know.
Makers could learn weapon blueprints.
That meant they could eventually make bullets too.
The man turned to the boy.
“Go bring them.”
“…Yes.”
Soon, the boy returned with a box.
Inside were five revolvers:
Two Smith & Wesson Model 10 (.38, 4-inch),
Three Smith & Wesson Model 60 (.38, 3-inch).
“Have you used a handgun before?”
“No. Not in real life.”
“I’ll show you.”
He explained briefly.
Revolvers—slow reload.
If careless, you’d die while reloading.
“What’s the difference?”
“The M10 is an older model. The M60 replaced it in 2005. M10s are still used for training.”
“The newer one’s smaller?”
“Yes. Lighter and easier to carry.”
Less than 1kg.
It almost felt like a toy.
Yet it could kill.
Same .38 caliber—compatible.
After learning the basics, I took the guns and ammo.
“Leave now,” I told them. “If it gets any later, you’ll be stuck after dark.”
They discussed briefly.
Then the man spoke.
“…We’ll leave immediately. What about you?”
“I still have business here.”
He hesitated, then said:
“…May I give you advice?”
“Go ahead.”
“There are no survivors around here. There’s a zombie nest to the north.”
“Then why are you here?”
“…Because humans are more dangerous than zombies. We ran from them… and still got attacked.”
Then he added:
“If you see survivors here… attack first. Most likely, they belong to that group.”
“…Thank you for the advice.”
They bowed and left.
Whether they trusted me or not—that was their choice.
But they must have felt it.
I didn’t harm the child.
I didn’t kill the boy.
I chose to talk first.
That alone gave my words weight.
Dusk was settling.
I needed to move too.
I returned to my group.
* * *
“Baek Doyoon!”
As I reached the park, checking the 3D map, Park Sang-il ran toward me.
“Are you okay?! You didn’t get shot?!”
“I’m fine. More importantly—this.”
I handed him the soaked box.
He opened it—
“Th-these are guns?!”
“Each party’s Shooter should take one. I’ll keep the extra.”
“….”
He stared at me.
“…Did you kill them all?”
“No. They weren’t trash.”
“…They shot Cheol-min!”
“…Would we not have pulled the trigger too?”
In this world—
Survival of the fittest.
I had killed too.
If we didn’t, we’d die.
“…How’s Cheol-min?”
“He’s stable. Treated in time.”
“Where?”
“Come.”
We reached the old restroom.
Elder Cheol-min lay inside.
“Doyoon!”
He jumped up, checking me over.
“You okay?!”
“I’m fine. How about you?”
“Still far from meeting the Grim Reaper.”
He laughed.
The students pushed him back down.
“You shouldn’t move!”
“I’m fine, really.”
“…We can tell you’re not.”
Do So-hee, the healer, was treating him.
Sang-il handed him a gun.
“Doyoon brought these.”
“A gun?! Did you… kill them all?”
Another misunderstanding.
So I explained everything.
Everything I saw.
Everything that happened.
