Chapter 16: Harvest and Rewards
The two forces clashed. But in just thirty short seconds, the victor was decided. The members of the survivor camp were swept away as if by a torrent, quickly bitten and killed, their firearms unable to completely fend off the horde.
In contrast, after this confrontation, seven or eight of the walkers affected by the Blood Moon remained. They stood with their heads bowed, blood dripping from their mouths as they let out unconscious, low growls. Their heads swayed slightly, seeming to pinpoint Shawn's current location.
Lying on the roof, Shawn's eyes narrowed. The deaths of a dozen people only made the bloody haze in his own eyes thicker.
"There are two ways to get through a Blood Moon."
"First: build strong defenses and keep the walkers out until dawn the next day."
"Second: kill all the attacking walkers. The Blood Moon will then end automatically, regardless of the time."
"Right now, these Ferals have been weakened by half, with only seven or eight remaining. I have a chance!"
Acting on the thought, Shawn rolled off the side of the roof and landed on the ground. Before the walkers could react, he got back into the car and slammed the door shut.
'CRASH—!'
The walkers whipped their heads around, their grayish-white eyes holding the same bloodlust as Shawn's. They charged and smashed into the car window. Glass shattered everywhere, fragments embedding themselves in their rotting skulls. A few drops of blood, not yet dried, mixed with pus and trickled from the wounds.
"ROAR—!!"
"Go fuck yourself!" Shawn cursed, thrusting his horse bone club through the car window and straight into a walker's mouth. The walker fell to the ground, briefly stunned.
The space inside the car was limited, but it had the advantage of creating a bottleneck, preventing the walkers from swarming him all at once. With great effort, Shawn maneuvered the club and brought it down on the head of a walker that was climbing in through the window.
'Schlick—'
The sound of a skull cracking echoed, and brain matter splattered across Shawn's face. Smelling the nauseating stench, Shawn's heart pounded. Veins bulged on his skin like old tree roots. He looked even more Feral than the walkers.
A walker had already climbed onto the hood. In their first head-on confrontation, they were much more agile than he had imagined. Seeing a bloody maw lunging at him, Shawn gritted his teeth and kicked out with his boot. At the same time, he pulled out the car's cigarette lighter and shoved it into another walker's eye socket.
"Eat this motherfucker! You like eating so much, you can have it all!"
The high temperature pierced through the walker's eye socket and deep inside, sizzling as thick fluid dripped onto Shawn's chest. Letting go of the club, Shawn threw a punch, smashing its head into a pulp.
Shoving the walker's corpse off himself, Shawn's eyes became even more stained with blood. Seizing the opportunity before the other walkers could get in, he grabbed the horse bone club again and climbed through the broken window onto the roof of the car.
Like playing a game of Whac-A-Mole, he brought the club down on the head of a walker trying to climb up. The blow sent it spinning, and it lay on the ground, unable to get up for a long time. He took care of the remaining few walkers one by one.
After all the walkers were down, Shawn waited on the roof for 20 minutes. Only when the blood-red fog began to dissipate and the Blood Moon in the sky started to become hazy and indistinct did he finally breathe a sigh of relief. He collapsed onto the car roof, feeling as if all his strength had been drained away as the Blood Moon faded.
"Killing those seven or eight Ferals was more tiring than killing twenty normal walkers."
Shawn was covered in a cold sweat, panting heavily. If he had to fight the entire horde by himself, he would have been skinned alive, if not killed. Facing these Ferals alone was simply too despairing.
And because of this, his determination to build a survivor camp only grew stronger. Not just Daryl and Merle, but he would also take in Rick's group!
In the apocalypse, people were the least valuable asset, but often, they were also the most valuable. This group of survivors with the potential to rule… obtaining them meant Shawn would gain the power to fight against future Blood Moons and other survivor organizations.
Shawn rested on the car roof for a long time, leaning on his horse bone club. Only when the sky began to lighten and even the survivors who had been killed by the Ferals started to get back up, turned into walkers, did he finally recover.
Cheerful music played in his ears, and a screen that only he could see appeared before him.
[Successfully Survived the First Blood Moon]
[Time until next Blood Moon is doubled.]
[Reward 1: Horse Bone Club upgraded to Stone Sledgehammer, Quality 2]
[Reward 2: Equipment – Stalker Gloves, Quality 3]
[Reward 3: Crafting Skill Magazine – 'Bow Hunters']
Shawn felt a warmth in his hand. The horse bone club he was leaning on suddenly changed. A layer of soft leather appeared on the handle, separating his palm from the rough wooden shaft. Looking up the club, the head had changed from round to square, looking as if two or three bricks had been crudely embedded in it. The entire club had transformed from bone to stone, and its weight had multiplied several times. If it weren't for the fact that Shawn had prioritized the Strength attribute, he probably wouldn't even be able to lift it now.
(Image Here)
He took a piece of bread and a bottle of mineral water from his backpack and continued to read as he ate.
[Stalker Gloves, Quality 3]
- Component of the Stalker Armor Set
- Lockpicking Speed +6%
- Lockpicking Success Rate +6%
- Stamina Regen +0.65/sec
- Movement Speed +7%
- Reduces noise produced, lowers chance of being detected.
- Evaluation: If you are an assassin, then this is the perfect attire for you. Put it on and slaughter all the ignorant lambs in their sleep.
(T/N: There is no stalker armor set, but these descriptions are a mix of Assassin Gloves and Rogue Gloves.)
The stats were good, but Shawn wasn't satisfied.
"You won't let me put points into Agility, but you give me Agility gear. System, what the hell are you trying to do?"
The system gave no reply.
Shawn looked at the third reward.
[Magazine: 'Bow Hunters']
- Effect: Increases Bow Crafting Skill (Max Level 75)
- Lv. 1-9 (Primitive Bow)
- Lv. 10-21 (Wooden Bow)
- Lv. 22-38 (Iron Crossbow)
- Lv. 39-67 (Compound Bow)
- Lv. 68-100 (Compound Crossbow)
(Image Here)
"If I can level it up high enough, making some compound crossbows would be pretty good." Shawn nodded to himself as he looked at the magazine's effects.
Equipment created by the system came with its own attributes and was much better than manually crafted weapons. Even if he didn't use them, he could craft them for others in the camp. Not to mention anyone else, if Daryl could get his hands on such a compound crossbow, his strength would probably double.
Placing the heavy Stone Sledgehammer and Stalker Gloves into his backpack, Shawn flipped through the magazine, and it was automatically used.
He opened his system.
[Bow Crafting Skill Lv. 1 → Lv. 5]
[You have Leveled Up!]
[Level Lv. 6 → Lv. 9]
[Unused Skill Points: 3]
One magazine raised his crafting skill by 5 levels. Shawn glanced past it, but when he saw his own level, he was stunned. He quickly opened his system log and saw that the records for killing the Ferals were as follows:
[Killed Feral, +1200 XP Gained]
[Killed Feral, +1200 XP Gained]
[Killed Feral, +1200 XP Gained]
…