Chapter 9
The Slaughterhouse
The cityscape swept past the minibus window.
I stared blankly outside.
Contrary to what I had expected—that the city would be a dystopia—it was instead a strange blend of fantasy, modernity, and sci‑fi.
The buildings followed modern architectural styles. Most people wore sci‑fi prosthetics called implants.
And what they sold were bizarre animals, plants, and objects—some modern, others unlike anything I had ever seen before.
Vendors shouted to attract customers, and perhaps because it was a holiday, families with young children walked through the market with warm smiles.
It’s surprisingly peaceful.
Watching children play in schoolyards, empty lots, and playgrounds made my heart relax—if only for a moment.
But as the minibus continued forward without stopping, the peaceful scene we had just passed seemed like a lie. The scenery gradually changed.
The number of children dwindled until there were none at all. Entertainment establishments began appearing here and there—then multiplied beyond control.
Instead of families holding hands and smiling, there were now people gripping guns, glaring at one another, constantly on guard.
Where on earth are we going for it to turn this rough? Aren’t things like this usually handled and sold at City Hall or some kind of guild? I wondered.
Then—
“Guk-guk-guk-guk-guk!”
“Shiiiik! Shik!”
Strange cries echoed in the air.
Where is that coming from? I looked around, and before long I saw the owner of those cries—and smelled the metallic stench of blood it had spilled.
A slaughterhouse?
Instead of some fantasy-style guild, Camilla had brought me to a slaughterhouse—a place where monsters were butchered and processed for parts.
While crossing the desert, the only living creature I had encountered was the desert wasp that tried to kill me.
But here, in the slaughterhouse, there were desert foxes that existed in reality, palm-sized insects, massive lizards comparable to 1‑ton trucks like something out of fantasy, subway-car-sized worms, bicycle-sized birds with two pairs of wings—
All kinds of creatures were being butchered.
This is insane… What the hell is all this?
What shocked me most wasn’t the brutality of the slaughter.
It was the sheer number of species—so many that even using both hands, I couldn’t possibly count them all.
I had thought encountering the desert wasp was a stroke of terrible luck.
But at this rate, meeting only the desert wasp felt like good fortune.
After watching people carry meat and byproducts into the slaughterhouse freezers, I turned my gaze back inside as the minibus entered one of the buildings.
“Get out. We’re here,” Camilla said.
I stepped off the bus.
After shutting off the engine, Camilla came to stand behind me.
One of the workers busily hauling meat and byproducts noticed us and approached.
Holy crap…
Maybe it was because he worked slaughtering monsters, but the man had an overwhelming presence.
He stood well over two meters tall, with implants on both arms the size of my thighs.
Large scars ran across his face and neck, as if parts had once been cut off and stitched back on.
He glanced over me like he was scanning an object, then turned to Camilla and spoke in a surprisingly gentle voice.
“Long time no see, Ms. Camilla.”
“Yeah. It’s been a while, Kedin.”
Camilla and the two-meter giant—Kedin—exchanged brief greetings before getting straight to business.
“You’ve come to sell a desert wasp this time?”
“Yeah.”
“May I inspect it?”
“Go ahead.”
Kedin called over a few workers and unloaded the desert wasp from the minibus roof.
Then he pulled out a massive saw from who-knows-where and, along with the workers, began dismantling it in an instant.
They removed the remaining wings and wing muscles—the rest had been destroyed by my bomb.
They divided the body into three sections: head, thorax, abdomen.
Then each worker used various tools to disassemble the parts.
Every time they brought a tool down, the corpse twitched, making my body flinch involuntarily.
After about ten minutes, the workers reported something to Kedin before dispersing.
Kedin nodded and said,
“It’s top quality. Been dead less than a day. The pincers are intact, and there’s plenty of venom left in the stinger. As before, shall we keep a few pincers and stingers aside and dispose of the rest? Or are you selling everything this time?”
At his question, Camilla glanced at me.
“What do you want to do?”
“Me?”
“Yeah. Want to keep some as materials?”
At her words, I activated my ability on the dismantled pincers and stinger.
[Desert Wasp Pincers]
The pincers of a desert wasp.
Lighter than aluminum, harder than steel, and as sharp as a master-crafted blade.
Frequently used as material for melee weapons.
[Desert Wasp Stinger]
The stinger of a desert wasp.
Lighter and harder than steel of the same weight, resistant to deformation.
Mainly used in vehicle modification and manufacturing.
※ The center of gravity is concentrated at the tip.
I don’t really need these right now.
I wasn’t a melee fighter, nor did I have a car to modify.
Even if they’d be useful later, right now money made more sense.
When I shook my head, Camilla resumed the conversation.
“I’m selling everything.”
“How would you like the payment?”
“Split it in half. One to one to one.”
“Understood.”
One to one to one?
Coins? Bills? Maybe converting to some kind of credits?
My confusion only deepened when Kedin returned with a leather sack far too large to hold ordinary money.
He dropped the upper-body-sized sack onto the floor.
Thud!
The heavy sound echoed.
Camilla immediately opened it and took out a few items.
Inside the sack—
were bullets.
Bullets?
Bullets were currency?
Why use something so heavy as money?
As my mind reeled, Camilla put on goggles, randomly inspected several bullets, then nodded.
“Confirmed.”
“Thank you for the transaction.”
“Yeah. See you again.”
With that, Kedin disappeared like the wind.
Without even watching him leave, Camilla tied up the sack and turned to me.
“One of these is your share. Take it.”
“My share?”
“Yeah.”
This… was mine?
I stared at the sack the size of my torso.
In my old world, I would’ve gladly accepted free money—especially if it was more than I deserved.
But here, I almost wanted to refuse.
As if reading my thoughts, Camilla spoke first.
“I already deducted the special meal and lodging.”
I blinked in surprise.
She could’ve taken it all as payment for saving my life, and I wouldn’t have complained.
Especially in a world like this, where harshness was the norm.
I looked at her with a complicated expression.
“Is it because it’s bullets instead of cash?” she asked bluntly.
That’s not why.
Before I could respond, she explained.
“I don’t know what your village was like, but in cities with any standing, bullets are used more than barter.”
“Isn’t currency more convenient than barter?”
“It is. Especially for inter-city trade.”
“Then why not use currency?”
“The old paper money disappeared—no trees to make paper. Mechanical parts require technicians to verify authenticity, so they weren’t suitable either.”
“I see…”
“After a lot of debate, cities chose bullets. In this damned place, there isn’t an idiot who walks around without a gun. Makes bullets perfect currency. And besides—”
She formed a finger gun and mimed shooting.
“If there’s a problem with what you bought, you can just shoot the guy who handed it to you.”
The casual way she spoke of killing made a chill run down my spine.
But the feeling quickly faded.
In a world full of monsters that could kill you—and madmen who traded in people—
of course people would become numb to this.
I wanted to argue that she could reduce my share, but—
“Didn’t you say we’re going to City Hall? We won’t be there long.”
With my escape route cut off, I had no choice but to surrender.
Still… thanks to Camilla going full exposition mode, I’ve learned more about this world.
With a deep sigh for my poor back, I hoisted the crushingly heavy sack and climbed into the minibus.
My back—and every muscle in my body—screamed in agony.
“Ugh…”
“Put mine up too,” Camilla said from the driver’s seat.
“Excuse me?”
Gore Attack’s vision went dark!
After loading all the sacks into the minibus, we left the blood-soaked slaughterhouse behind.
Rubbing my aching back, I cautiously asked,
“I’m not very knowledgeable about this world, but… how much is this worth?”
Camilla glanced at me like I was a clueless rookie and explained calmly.
“Five pistol rounds equal one rifle round. Five rifle rounds equal one sniper round.”
“What about shotgun shells?”
“Shotgun ammo varies depending on its purpose and materials, so it’s not used in general trade. Why? Interested?”
I shook my head.
“You had one when we first met. I was just curious.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes. Oh, and you checked the bullets earlier—why?”
Her expression stiffened slightly.
After a brief silence, she answered.
“Some people reduce the gunpowder or shrink the bullet head to line their own pockets. So you always check.”
“If they knew what they were doing, you deal with them on the spot. If they didn’t, you track down the one who cheated and blow their head off.”
“They deserve it.”
Her voice was flat—yet it carried something heavy beneath it.
I laughed awkwardly.
“As for this city’s prices… I’ll explain using food.”
I leaned forward eagerly.
If energy bars weren’t at least ten times cheaper than real meals, I swore I’d never eat them again.
But my hope shattered instantly.
“One energy bar costs one pistol round. That meat you liked? One can is two sniper rounds. Rice is five sniper rounds.”
“Soup cans—what most people live on—cost two rifle rounds.”
Energy bars and meat had a fiftyfold difference.
Compared to rice, it was 125 times cheaper.
Even soup cans were over ten times more expensive.
If I couldn’t reach Chang-uk at City Hall—
Oh, please.
Until I contacted the merchant guild and received a reply,
I might be forced to survive on energy bars alone.
As I reeled at the terrifying prices, Camilla continued calmly.
“A firearm made by a skilled craftsman usually costs one box of ammo for that weapon type.”
“That’s insanely expensive.”
“That’s when I’m with you—or if you’re running my errands.”
I blinked.
Which meant prices could vary wildly otherwise.
“Geez…”
When I sighed, she said flatly,
“You got one box of each, so you’ll be fine.”
I calculated quickly.
In the game, a box had 2,000 rounds… That’s 2,480 meals of rice.
At least if I stuck to energy bars, I could survive a year.
No! I’d rather die!
Eating energy bars three times a day?
I’d rather go insane and cross the desert again.
Please—let me reach Chang-uk.
Praying desperately, I headed toward City Hall.
