Chapter 29

24. Magic Potion (2)

"Skeleton, here."

The moment I entered the low-rise building where the sniper's daughter had led me, I was confronted with a scene I had not anticipated.

American franchise signs, a statue of a colonel known for his fried chicken, comic hero movie posters, American road signs, various forms of English typography, dark English neon signs, English newspapers, and a hero's shield.

The building, unnecessarily wide and poorly organized, was filled with things that were quintessentially American, evoking the image of America.

On the upper floor, in a room filled with various cover objects through which the wind blew freely, the sniper was lying prone, aiming a rifle and looking down.

The sniper, with her eyes fixed on the scope, said, "Enemy. RPG. Present."

The sniper's daughter, with binoculars, knelt beside her and scanned the area below.

"I don't see it."

"He's hiding."

The sniper added, "RPG is dangerous. They're targeting us."

Though her Korean was halting, I understood the situation.

The ones in front are just decoys.

The guy with the rocket launcher is hiding somewhere, planning to blow up the sniper and her daughter.

The sniper must have called me for that reason.

But that's just her judgment.

I need to assess the situation based on my own standards.

From my experience on the battlefield, people in dire straits tend to exaggerate the situation more than it actually is.

"I'll take over for a moment, so draw a simple map."

I took over the sniper rifle from the sniper.

The grip was slick with sweat.

Once I settled in and looked through the high-magnification scope, it was clear.

These are not ordinary looters.

They are the ones who have survived by trampling and killing others among the many looters, leveling up.

The ones in front are laughing and shouting, high on drugs, but behind them, in cover out of the range of gunfire, are fully armed looters with cold, murderous eyes, sharply observing their surroundings.

They are likely the regular members of the looters.

The ones in front are just cannon fodder.

There were also many women, but they didn't look like combatants.

"Skeleton."

The sniper handed me a map.

I looked at her left foot.

Despite the freezing wind, it was only bandaged and awkwardly lifted backward.

The reason for her unnatural movement when she stood up earlier must have been due to the injury on her left foot.

I looked directly into her blue eyes.

I didn't see the madness I had feared.

Only a sense of depression, anxiety, and deep fatigue.

"How's your leg?"

"I need medicine."

The sniper, with a depressed expression, stared resentfully at her left foot.

"......My leg is rotting."

"Let me take a look later."

I looked at the map she had drawn.

As befitting a former soldier, she had drawn it clearly, highlighting only the necessary points.

After a brief inspection, I came to a conclusion.

With this number and these weapons, it's impossible.

Most importantly, the enemy is a cunning hunter.

They know we are few and are slowly and steadily suffocating us to death with their numbers.

Showing the RPG doesn't necessarily mean they will use it immediately.

They know that just by showing it, they can unsettle us.

Their true purpose is to make us anxious, imagine all sorts of scenarios, and accelerate our rapid collapse.

Looking at the sniper, I said, "It's a tough fight."

"So?"

"I have a spot in my bunker."

The sniper's eyes wavered roughly, but she is a soldier.

She knows her situation better than anyone.

She looked at her leg with sad eyes.

"Soo."

The sniper called her daughter.

Soo.

That was her daughter's name.

Despite the extreme situation, the mother and daughter seemed to have a strong bond.

They understood each other without needing to speak.

Soo, understanding her mother's intention, shook her head and hugged the sniper.

She whispered something in English.

Probably that she didn't want to go.

Holding her, the sniper looked at me with wet eyes.

"I'm sorry, Skeleton. I knew it was dangerous, but I called you."

I asked her calmly, "Do you have any other weapons?"

"Other weapons?"

"Last time, there were plenty of heavy weapons in the Humvee. Where are they now?"

The sniper gently disengaged from her daughter and looked at me.

"Soo."

The daughter nodded, adjusted her helmet, and ran forward nimbly.

"Skeleton, follow me."

As we left, I looked at the sniper.

The sniper, with a lonely expression, gestured for me to take her daughter.

I shook my head.

Surprise flashed in the sniper's eyes.

Leaving her surprise behind, I followed Soo.

The weapons were stored in a second-floor warehouse.

As I had suspected, my observation was correct.

Recoilless rifles, 7.62mm machine guns, Claymores, grenades, Javelins—

The arsenal was so extensive it could be called a weapon department store.

But there are reasons why the sniper hasn't used these weapons.

Her Javelins, her strongest weapon, were both out of battery, and the other weapons, while powerful, have issues with range and accuracy.

Moreover, with her inability to walk properly, it's not an exaggeration to say she can't use these weapons anymore.

But that's not my concern.

I found a usable weapon.

An American recoilless rifle.

I had used one in Paju.

It's light, reliable, and has excellent firepower.

Effective range is within 200 meters.

It's a decent means of communication.

"Let's borrow two."

"Two?"

I nodded in response to the sniper's question and asked her, "What's your name?"

She hesitated for a moment but then looked at me with steady eyes and answered, "Rebecca."

*

Now I have powerful weapons in my hands.

I took two, but the opportunity for effective strikes will only come once.

The conclusion is simple.

I need to kill as many of them as possible in one go.

Especially the fully armed veterans deep in their ranks.

The drugged cannon fodder is secondary, but their numbers are problematic.

Thus, the method I chose is strikingly similar to the sniper's.

Quietly lying in wait and seizing a single opportunity.

But these looters are not easy opponents.

Unlike the pioneers I faced in the theme park, they have spread out and set up guards in all directions.

I waited.

The looters used the drugged and drunk cannon fodder to wear down the sniper's nerves.

Whenever the sniper and her daughter fired, there was no significant effect.

Hiding in the bushes, I endured the cold rising from the ground and waited for night to fall.

"Hey, you bastard! Pay attention! I told you to keep your eyes open!"

A rough voice came from the enemy camp.

A leader was yelling, beating the cannon fodder mercilessly with a club to set an example for everyone.

The dead looter was carried away and dumped on the ground, and no one tended to him.

Even at night, their vigilance did not waver.

They even sent a few riflemen to periodically fire at the building where the sniper was lying in wait.

It was clear they intended to prevent them from getting any proper rest.

With no other options, I stepped back and took turns with the sniper, letting her get some sleep.

The provocations continued the next day.

More boldly, they led a reinforced vehicle and closed the distance, then played music through a speaker.

When the music paused, a leader, hiding far behind, spoke into a microphone.

"Hey, you hiding over there. I know how many of you there are. Probably two, or maybe three. I heard you calling for help on the radio. So what? I hate wasting time, so let's make a deal. You have a lot of bullets, right? Give me some. I don't want too many. Just 500. You must have that much, right? I've heard rumors."

As the sky darkened, I approached them again.

The man who had been thrown outside the previous day was frozen stiff with wide-open eyes.

Their vigilance was still strict.

I could have forced my way in, but I decided to wait for another opportunity.

Another day passed in vain.

The sniper, with a worried look, said to me, "Are you okay? Can't you see a way out?"

"Hmm."

I handed her a chocolate bar and replied, "Let's wait and see."

While she kept watch, I took a brief nap.

I heard a few gunshots in my sleep but didn't bother to wake up.

Another day passed.

I should be worrying about my bunker, but I tried not to waver.

This fight, the one who wavers first loses.

Between the one trying to wear us out and the one on the verge of collapse, the one who falters first dies.

The opportunity came unexpectedly.

Late in the evening, it suddenly started raining.

It was the season and temperature for snow, but it rained.

The looters set up tents and gathered under them.

I can guess their thoughts.

They probably don't want to get wet in this cold weather.

But in a fight, the less prepared always lose first.

Drip, drip—

The near-freezing rainwater ran down my forehead.

My clothes were already soaked with mud, cold, and rain, and the cold air blowing from the river evaporated the water, making it feel like my lungs were freezing.

I advanced in a prone position, enduring all of it.

Through the mist of my breath, I could see them.

The ones chatting in the tents.

I aimed the sight, disengaged the safety, and aimed the recoilless rifle at them.

A leader looked in my direction, but the rocket had already been launched with a loud roar.

Boom!

It was an explosive ending.

I don't like it, but it's the simplest.

*

This is the second time I've called someone to my bunker.

I brought the sniper Rebecca and her daughter Soo to my bunker.

The purpose is to perform surgery on Rebecca.

Her left foot was necrotic.

A soft tissue infection, once called cellulitis, was eating away at her leg and mind.

She was also talking about medicine, as if she had tried to perform surgery on herself.

"Wait a moment. I'll watch a video."

Though I'm not a professional, I learned basic trauma treatment in school and on the battlefield.

With the video materials, I should be able to manage.

"Skeleton!"

Soo seemed fascinated by my bunker.

I guess seeing such a large and beautiful bunker would make anyone's eyes widen.

"Why is the toilet in the center?"

"......Stay by your mother."

I started the surgery.

I drained the pus, made an incision, disinfected the wound, and applied ointment.

This is the best I can do.

The rest depends on the antibiotics left by Kyle and Rebecca's will.

With a pale face, Rebecca looked at me and asked, "Did I do it right? It's not a mess, right?"

"I watched a video, so it should be fine. Just take the medicine properly. If you don't want to lose your leg."

She looked at her blood-soaked bandaged left foot, ran her hand through her hair, and looked at the ceiling.

"Do you have medicine?"

"Do you still need it?"

"It's hard."

She sighed and said sadly.

Of course, it's hard.

I understand the difficulty.

But medicine is not an option.

I decided that from the beginning.

"Taking medicine won't solve the problem."

Rebecca nodded, her eyes welling up with tears.

"......I miss my hometown."

Hometown.

How long has it been since I heard that word?

"......And the people. People who speak our language. I want to talk. In our language, not this one."

Though her words were halting, they touched my heart more deeply than any eloquent speech.

I had a similar experience in a dream.

Dealing with someone who speaks a different language is vague and unfamiliar.

For her, that vagueness must have been her daily life.

"Our language......"

Perhaps the accumulated vagueness has made her heart sicker than her physical condition.

Then there's no solution.

How can I send her back to America in this situation?

As I was about to console her with empty words, I realized something.

"!"

Wait.

There is.

A magic potion to grant her wish.

"Hey, Rebecca."

I called her.

"Come on."

I opened my laptop and the community page.

<Viva! Apocalypse!>

"What is this?"

Soo, also intrigued, came closer.

It's time to cast the magic.

A magic I thought was unrelated to me.

This magic can be cast with a few clicks, without any grand incantations or magic circles.

The magic began.

With a stuttering scroll.

anonymous45: Is it actually hard to find protein-rich plants in the wild to eat if one is starving?

In_domini_LK: It depends on the season and place.

PennKIX1978: Wild Amaranth is pretty high in proteins.

anonymous71: Meet my WAIFUs.

...

...

Awkward English titles.

That's right.

This is the English board of Viva Apocalypse.

Actually, this is the main board, and the users are several times more than us.

I can use the translation function, but I rarely do.

The Korean board is my hometown.

But for this wild beast from a different world, the growls of other wild beasts will be more comforting.

"What is this? Are these real people?"

Of course, it's the resonance of the same hometown.

"Of course."

I moved aside, and Rebecca, with trembling hands, began to type, sending her words into the world.

SKELTON: Hi guys :)

*

"Get out."

I admit.

This Park Kyu is not a gentleman.

"Get out."

"Just a little more."

"You stayed all night. How long do you plan to stay?"

"Just a little more."

The sniper is a problem, but her daughter is no less.

"Skeleton, what's this?"

"Hey, hey, hey! Put that away. Kids shouldn't see that."

She's a demon at finding embarrassing things.

It feels like watching the ferret my sister used to keep.

I chased the disaster that is this mother and daughter away around noon.

"......Thank you, Skeleton."

"Thank you! Skeleton!"

They thanked me belatedly.

The sniper whispered something to her daughter.

Soo nodded and asked me in fairly fluent Korean, "Mom asked why you helped us back then."

"Back then?"

"When you changed your mind and suggested we run."

"That's......"

I smiled.

There's no need to say it.

The fact that Rebecca, holding Soo and looking at me with wet eyes, resembled my mother holding my sister as she died is a lie.

"Because we're neighbors."

It's half the truth.

Though I harshly chased them out of the main bunker, I offered to give them a dummy bunker.

This mother and daughter seem to be reaching their limits.

Rebecca still seemed attached to her territory.

I didn't try to stop her.

After just a brief half-day, I realized that sharing living space with someone other than myself is not as easy as it sounds.

More preparation is needed.

For both the mother and daughter and for me.

"Just one more hour on the computer."

"Get out."

I watched from beside the truck as the mother and daughter climbed the stairs of the abandoned building.

Rebecca, limping, nodded at me.

I suddenly asked her, "Do you still need medicine?"

Rebecca shook her head with a bitter smile.

Soo clung to her and waved at me.

I watched them for a while.

The magic potion exists.

I left, hoping to find a magic potion that suits me.

"......"

At Christmas, we'll just exchange radio messages.