Hiding a House in the Apocalypse

Chapter 29: Magic Potion (2)

"Skeleton, over here."

As I entered the low building following the sniper's daughter, I was met with an unexpected sight.

American franchise signs, a statue of Colonel Sanders frying chicken, comic book hero movie posters, American road signs, various forms of English typography, extinguished English neon signs, English newspapers, and a superhero's shield - within this unnecessarily spacious and disorganized building, it was filled with things that were distinctly American, evoking images of the United States.

On the upper floor, in a room cluttered with makeshift barricades where the wind could freely enter, the sniper crouched with her rifle aimed down below.

Without taking her eyes off the scope, the sniper said, "Enemy. RPG. They have it."

The sniper's daughter, kneeling beside her with binoculars, scanned the area below. "I don't see it."

"It's hidden," the sniper added.

"RPG is dangerous. They're aiming for us," she explained in hesitant Korean.

Even though her Korean was a bit shaky, I understood the situation. The people drawing attention upfront were acting as decoys. Someone with a portable rocket launcher was hiding somewhere, planning to blow the sniper and her daughter to pieces.

The reason the sniper had called me was probably for that very reason. But that's only the sniper's judgment. I needed to assess the situation based on my own criteria.

Based on my experience on the battlefield, people cornered in a dire situation tend to exaggerate the situation more than reality.

"I'll take care of it in a moment; just draw me a simple map," I said, taking the sniper's rifle in her place. The grip was slippery with sweat.

Taking my position and looking through the high-powered scope, I could indeed see them clearly. These weren't ordinary looters. Among the countless looters, these were individuals who had trampled over others, killed, and survived to level up.

The ones causing a ruckus up front were probably just cannon fodder. There were also many women mixed in, but they didn't look like combatants.

"Skeleton," the sniper handed me a map.

I looked at her left foot. Even with the sub-zero wind blowing in, she had only wrapped it in bandages and was standing awkwardly with her weight on her heels. The unnaturalness in her movement when she got up from her seat earlier was probably due to this injured left foot.

I looked into her blue eyes directly. The madness I was worried about didn't seem too evident. There was just a sense of sadness, anxiety, and deep fatigue casting a shadow.

"What happened to your leg?"

"I need medicine," the sniper said, her face showing self-blame as she stared at her injured left foot. "My leg is rotting."

"We'll look at it later," I replied.

I examined the map she had drawn. She had highlighted only the essential points, as expected of someone with a military background.

After a brief inspection, I reached a conclusion. With these numbers and this level of firepower, it was impossible. Moreover, the enemy was cunning hunters.

Knowing that we were outnumbered, they were using a strategy of slowly and patiently suffocating us with their superior strength. Showing the RPG wasn't an immediate threat; it was just a way to unsettle us. They probably aimed to make us anxious, fuel our imagination with impending doom, and accelerate our downfall. The sniper understood the situation as well.

"It's going to be a tough fight," I said.

"And?"

"I have a safe place. We can take shelter there."

The sniper's eyes twitched with unease, but she, too, was a soldier who understood her situation better than anyone else. She looked down at her injured leg with a melancholic expression.

"Suu," the sniper called her daughter.

Suu. That was her daughter's name.

Even in extreme circumstances, they seemed to have a close relationship where they understood each other's intentions without needing to speak.

Suu understood her mother's intention and leaned her head sideways, allowing her mother to embrace her.

She whispered something in English. Perhaps it meant she didn't want to go. While hugging her daughter, the sniper gazed at me with wet eyes.

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

She confessed her inner thoughts belatedly, and I asked her calmly, "Do you have any other weapons?"

"Different weapons?"

"There were a lot of Chinese weapons in the bunker before. Where are they now?"

The sniper gently pulled his daughter away and locked eyes with me.

"Sue."

His daughter nodded, adjusted her helmet, and swiftly ran ahead.

"Skeleton, follow her."

As I left the spot, the sniper gestured to me.

It meant to go with the daughter.

I tilted my head and followed Sue.

The weapons were stored in a warehouse on the second floor.

I was right all along.

From recoilless rifles to 7.62mm machine guns, Claymores, grenades, and Javelins, there were enough Chinese weapons to call it a weapons department store.

But there was a reason why the sniper didn't use those weapons.

Among them was the Javelin, which could be considered her most powerful weapon, but both of them had run out of batteries, and the other weapons, while powerful, had issues with range and accuracy.

Considering that she could no longer walk properly, these weapons were practically unusable.

But that didn't matter to me.

I found a usable weapon.

An unknown recoilless rifle.

I had fired one before when I was in Paju.

It was lightweight, reliable, and had excellent firepower.

Effective range: within 200 meters.

A decent means of communication.

"Let me borrow two of them."

"Two of them?"

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

She hesitated for a moment at the question but then answered with unwavering eyes.

"Rebecca."

Now I had a powerful weapon in my hands.

I had two of them, but there would be only one efficient opportunity.

The conclusion was simple.

I had to kill as many of them as possible in a single shot.

Especially the heavily armed veterans deep within.

The drug-addled bullet sponges would come next, but if their numbers were too large, it could be problematic.

So, the approach I chose was surprisingly similar to the sniper next door.

Quietly lie in wait, bide my time, and wait for that one chance.

But these marauders were not easy prey.

Unlike the pioneers we encountered at the theme park, they were loosely spread out, with sentries posted in all directions.

I waited.

The marauders taunted the sniper with drugs, alcohol, and bullets, trying to wear her down.

Every time, the sniper and his daughter returned fire, but there was no significant gain.

I hid in the bushes, fully exposed to the cold rising from the ground, waiting for nightfall.

"Hey, you bastard. Do it properly! I told you to keep your eyes open!"

From the enemy's position, a rough voice could be heard, as someone ruthlessly beat the sentry with a club, setting an example for everyone.

The beaten man, now a bloody mess, was abandoned on the ground, and no one paid him any attention.

Even as night fell, their vigilance showed no sign of weakening.

In fact, they periodically sent sharpshooters to the building where the sniper was hiding, launching sporadic attacks.

Their determination not to let her rest was evident.

Another day passed without any progress.

Wearing a worried expression, the sniper turned to me and asked, "Are you okay? Can't see a way out?"

"Well..."

I replied, offering her some chocolate.

"Wait and see."

As she looked at the me, I briefly closed my eyes.

I heard a few shots in my sleep, but I didn't bother waking up.

Another day went by.

Now it was time to worry about the supplies running out.

But I tried not to waver.

In this fight, the one who flinches first loses.

Between the one trying to dry us out is also drying themselves out, the first one to waver dies.

The opportunity came suddenly.

Late in the evening, it started to rain heavily.

It was supposed to be the season for snow, but for some reason, it was raining.

The marauders set up tents and gathered underneath them.

I knew what they were thinking.

On this chilly day, no one would want to get wet in the rain.

But in a fight, it's always the ones who are less prepared who go down first.

Pitter-patter.

Rainwater, close to freezing, trickles down my forehead.

My clothes are already soaked with mud, cold, and rain, and the cold air blowing in from the riverbank evaporates the moisture from my clothes, making even my lungs freeze.

I endure it all and move forward with determination.

Through my breath, I can see them.

The people inside the tent.

I aim, release the safety, and point my recoilless rifle at them.

The apparent leader looks in my direction, but rockets have already been launched toward them with a deafening noise.

Boom!

It's an explosive ending.

I don't like it, but it's the easiest way. [If anyone is confused about the recoilless rifle...then search it on google...its basically rocket launcher]

This is the second time I brought someone to my shelter.

I brought the sniper Rebecca and her daughter Suu.

The purpose is Rebecca's surgery.

Her left leg was gangrenous.

The connective tissue inflammation was eating her leg and spirit.

She seemed to want to try performing the surgery herself, judging by her talk of taking drugs.

"Wait a moment. Let me watch a video."

I may be a military man, but I learned basic treatment in school and on the battlefield.

There are instructional videos, so I should be able to figure it out somehow.

"Skeleton!"

Suu seems fascinated by my shelter.

Well, seeing such a big and beautiful shelter like this, it's understandable that her eyes would light up.

"Why is the toilet in the middle?"

"Stay next to your mom."

I began the surgery.

I squeezed out pus, made an incision, disinfected it, and applied ointment.

This is the best I can do.

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

Rebecca, with a pale face, looked at me and asked, "Did you do it properly? It wasnt sloppy was it?"

"I watched a video, so it should be fine. Take your medicine and be careful. Unless you want your leg amputated."

She looked at her left leg, wrapped in blood-soaked bandages, and sighed sadly.

"Drugs, do you have it?"

"Do you still need it?"

"It's hard."Thi/s chapter is updat𝓮d by nov(e)(l)biin.co/m

She sighed and said miserably.

Well, it must be tough.

I understand the difficulty of it.

But drug is not an option.

I decided that from the beginning.

"Taking drugs won't solve your problems."

Rebecca nodded, tears welling up in her eyes.

"...I miss home."

Home.

It's been a while since I heard that word.

"...And people. People who speak our language. I want to talk to them, not in this language."

Her words were hesitant, but they struck a deep chord with me more than any eloquent speech.

I had experienced something similar in my dreams.

How vague and foreign it is to deal with someone who speaks a different language.

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

In that case, there's no solution.

How can I possibly send her back to the United States in this situation?

As I was about to console her with a resigned heart, I had a thought.

!

Wait a minute.

There's something.

A magic that can grant her wish.

"Hey, Rebecca."

I called her.

"Come on."

I opened my laptop and accessed the community.

<Viva! Apocalypse!>

"What's this?"

Suu also became interested and approached.

Now it's time to cast the magic.

Magic that I thought had nothing to do with me.

This magic can be cast with just a few clicks, without the need for an incantation or a magic circle.

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 location.

PennKIX1978: Wild Amaranth is pretty high in proteins.

anonymous71: meet my WAIFUs.

...

...

Awkward English Titles.

That's right.

This is the Viva Apocalypse English forum.

In fact, this is the main forum, and there are many more users here than us.

We can use translation functions, but our experience with it is quite limited.

The Korean forum is my hometown, after all.

But for this beast from a different world like me, the growls of similar beasts might be more fitting.

"What's this? Could they be living people?"

Well, it's the resonance of the same hometown.

"Of course."

I smiled and made room as I looked at Rebecca's bright face.

The sniper clenched the keyboard with trembling hands and finally transmitted her own language to the world.

SKELTON: Hi guys :)

"Get out."

I admit it.

This Park Gyura is no gentleman.

"Get out."

"Just a little more."

"No, we stayed up all night. How much longer will you do this?"

"Just a little more."

The sniper is a problem, but her daughter is not to be underestimated either.

"Skeleton, what's this?"

"Hey hey hey! Put that away. The kids shouldn't see that."

She is a ghost that finds embarrassing things.

It's like seeing the ferret that my sister used to raise.

I chased away the disastrous mother and daughter around noon.

"...Thank you, Skeleton."

"Thank you, Skeleton!"

The mother and daughter expressed their gratitude to me belatedly.

The sniper whispered something to her daughter.

Suu nodded and asked me in fluent Korean.

"She's asking why you helped back then."

"Back then?"

"When she changed her mind when we first tried to escape."

"Well..."

I smiled faintly.

I didn't need to say it.

The image of Rebecca holding her daughter, looking at me with wet eyes, was eerily similar to the image of my dying mother holding me.

"It's because she's my neighbour."

It's half true.

I drove them away with all my might from the main bunker, but I did propose giving them one of the spare bunkers.

Anyway, it seems like this mother and daughter are nearing their limits.

Rebecca still seemed hesitant about her territory.

I didn't try to stop her.

Sharing living space with someone else for just half a day is not as easy as it sounds.

We need more preparation.

Both for the mother and daughter and for myself.

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

Rebecca, limping along, nodded her head in thanks as she looked at me.

Out of the blue, I asked her, "Do you still need the drugs?"

Rebecca smiled bitterly and shook her head.

Suu clung to her and shook hands with me.

I watched their figures for a while before leaving.

I hope there's a magical medicine that suits me.

"..."

We'll just exchange messages on the radio for Christmas.

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