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Translator: penny
Chapter: 20
Chapter Title: Human Hunter
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"Why... why are you doing this?"
The terrified Saintess's question drew an immediate response from her opponent.
"Why?! 'Cause I'm starving to death!"
"Hurry up and hand over the meat. Let me taste that tender body of yours."
Two out of the four enemies bared their bloodshot eyes, revealing their excessive hunger.
Eh? The Saintess looked flustered by their fervent advances, but it was an answer I'd already anticipated, so nothing new there.
'Considering the trial's difficulty, it's only natural.'
Was the Tutorial too easy?
Or maybe the Rest Area too leisurely?
Most people entering the first trial come through without a second thought.
Just like transitioning from Earth to the Selection Process, they plunge in utterly unprepared, scrambling to flee or hide from dangers right in front of them.
-Wh-what are these monsters?!
-Help me!
It's no wonder half the population vanishes in the first trial.
Those who think even a little might grab some food, but most come empty-handed.
-Sniff, I'm hungry. I want to go home. I want a warm meal.
Fortunately, the first trial provides ways to scavenge food.
Even if it's unfamiliar meat, you can kill local threats to humans and sate your hunger.
'Except for one spot—this [Lair of Evil Spirits].'
You can't find food here.
All the wandering monsters are undead, impossible to cook.
And not just that—undead take no physical damage.
'Some fight with [Unique Abilities], but this is a dungeon.'
Dungeons are inherently tough to solo.
Whether the environment sucks, mobs swarm disgustingly, or the mobs themselves have superior stats, they're always a pain.
'Here, it's all about overwhelming numbers. You encounter at least three at a time.'
Early on, with fresh influxes, it's manageable.
Numbers get replenished, and you can beg scraps from the prepared ones.
But eventually, no new arrivals, food runs out, survivors dwindle...
They get pushed back by undead hordes, fleeing until they end up roasting corpses of the starved dead or killing neighbors to fill their bellies.
'Especially here—the name alone screams danger.'
[Mirinae Plains]
[Lakeside]
[Polluted Beach]
[Lair of Evil Spirits]
.
.
At a glance, it's the most dangerous trial zone—no volunteers.
A few hot-blooded, overconfident competitors might enter, but how many?
Most dropped here got bounced from desired zones due to population caps.
In the end, the timid ones never think to seek Vardo's remains, huddling hopelessly at the dungeon entrance, bracing for their final moments—or turning bandit like these guys to scrape by.
'Neither's wise.'
Fail to reach the depths for the remains, and like the Tutorial, you're deleted with the trial.
'Rest Area deletes in 4 days, this trial in 10—so about 14 days left.'
Not that they'd last; starvation hits first.
"Hand over everything while I'm asking nicely!"
"Let me taste that juicy body of yours!"
The enemies approached, gripping blood- and flesh-crusted weapons.
I snorted, hand drifting to the knife hilt at my waist.
'Human Hunters. Threatening foes, but small fry to me.'
Ten years of seeing every horror—this was kid stuff.
I stepped forward to end them quick, then hesitated.
'Ugh, headache.'
Human Hunters are tricky.
Tenacious, cunning. Can't just beat and shoo them—they'd tail us relentlessly, striking when we slept or slacked.
'Better kill them here.'
But the Saintess was watching.
Early in the trial, fresh from Tutorial and Rest Area, she still clung to Earth thinking.
Armed with modern intellect and morality.
'Killing now might tank my favor just to prove a point.'
Sure, we could share meals, fuck, sleep together despite murders—but realistically, she'd struggle.
'Chop off limbs and send them packing? That'd traumatize her into shaking at my sight.'
Saw plenty like that in Round 1—friends from Earth split by trauma.
Ha, what now?
"The one in back's mine."
"Then middle for me. I'll make it my third. Add it to my collection."
The enemies closed in, now quite close.
"Th-then, if we share food, can you just let us go?"
Our kind-hearted Saintess tried negotiating, modern-style. Too bad the reply was bullshit.
"Huh? Why? We can just kill you and take it all."
"!!"
"Look at that one. Tits huge. Bet they taste great."
"The other one's got a killer body too."
Didn't notice faces, apparently. No pretty comments.
Makes sense—if they'd seen Shin Seo-yeon's face, no taunts.
That cleared my dilemma instantly.
Shin Seo-yeon, shaken by her first brush, clung to me trembling.
"M-Min-jun, what do we do? They really mean to do something to us."
I nodded at the stiff bulges in their crotches.
"Yeah, looks like it. And we don't plan to let them."
"Huh?"
Then Shin Seo-yeon's chilling voice echoed through the dark.
"Oh, these fuckers. I'm tired of humoring their shit."
Whoosh—crimson light lit the darkness. Red flames scorched the air.
I pulled the Saintess aside.
Shin Seo-yeon strode past; the enemies gawked, backing away.
"Wh-what the hell is that?"
"Magic? How's the fireball that big? Is magic normally like that...?"
"No way! The mage I ate before wasn't that scary!"
A Level 1 mage only singes.
Can't match an S-Rank Crimson Flame Witch.
"D-danger! Fuck, run!"
They turned, dicks shriveled, fleeing.
"Too late, assholes!"
The fireball flew.
KABOOM!
Blast. Roar. Faint quake. Dust rising.
'Right, underground dungeon. Tell her to shrink fireballs or use flame spray next time.'
Looking up, three of four dead in one hit.
"Eek! M-monster!"
One fled desperately. Before burning corpses, Shin Seo-yeon stretched contentedly.
"Ah, feels good. Totally cleared my head."
I hurled my axe at the runner, nodding.
'Knew she'd killed before.'
No hesitation after slaughter.
Some adapt quick to inhuman acts.
Normally...
"Urk."
...the Saintess pukes at sights like this.
"S-Seo-yeon, how could you do something so awful?"
"They were gonna kill us."
"Still, how could you..."
Shin Seo-yeon looked down at the prostrate Saintess, zero guilt.
For a split second, pity crossed her face.
"Sis, we didn't kill them earlier? We'd be like them—or stripped bare, pinned under them, sucking their filthy dicks and swallowing cum."
"Th-that's."
"Snap out of it. Earth's gone. We prove our worth in the Selection Process. Know what I saw in 10 days at the Rest Area? Our Earth morals? Gone."
"..."
"Sharp ones murder, rob, rape from the Rest Area. Goo-goody types band together, sharing 'guilt' while fleecing cash."
She scoffed.
"People like you get robbed, raped, arrive empty-handed. Guess what happens? They get taken or become like those guys. Wake up. We gotta change."
"..."
Harsh for our innocent Saintess, but Shin Seo-yeon was right this time.
She'd adapt eventually.
But timing? How to handle such events?
I'd rolled here 10 years; death barely fazes me. Fresh from Earth? Not so.
Especially women cushioned by modern laws—rape, murder? Tough pill.
'Hard to swallow.'
Forcing new rules risks anti-favor. She'd avoid me.
'Why I held back at Rest Area punks.'
Too soon; no need to lead the charge.
But eventually, she'd kill. How to guide?
Surprise.
"Seo-yeon, still... murder..."
"Sigh, so frustrating. Sis, whining over one dead guy?"
"Eh?"
"Ugh, why do stories drag this annoying part? Tsk, this."
Our Crimson Flame Witch gladly took the bullet, slamming facts mercilessly.
Blasted by fact-bombs, Saintess gawked at our nonchalant faces, bewildered.
"Sis, think I like killing? I hate it. I'm no psycho killer."
Saintess flapped like a fish, speechless.
Ha, Shin Seo-yeon stepping up? Good girl.
"What you should do now? Not grill me—say thanks."
"Eh?"
"You lived thanks to me. Hands clean."
"Th-that's."
Sound logic, but brazen, morally iffy.
Explains her Round 1 kills, survival. Not just talent.
Optimized for Selection Process: skills, prowess, personality perfect.
Shin Seo-yeon smiled, patted the slumped Saintess's shoulder.
"Lucky you, sis. I don't drag dead weight. But I like you—special treatment. Hide behind me next time."
"Uh, uh..."
More like no rivals nearby.
But naive Saintess buys it—and should. My calcs say she won't get ditched.
'Anyway, lost my axe. Hadn't named it yet.'
Survivor vanished deep, axe on back. Solid hit—dies in 10 mins. Impressive will.
I stomped dying embers, looted bodies.
"Dickhead, whatcha doing?"
"Item farming."
"You ain't puking?"
"Why would I."
"Heh. Our Dickhead's one of a kind. Love it. Head's dumb, though."
"..."
"Who else'd take a dummy like you?"
She took lead, so I let it slide—but she scratched anyway. Retorted.
"Better than Crybaby."
"Hey! That was bad luck!"
"Sure, sure."
"..."
Fact-check; concession. Why's she madder?
Deep breaths, she squatted close.
"Anything good?"
"Armor wrecked by some idiot—useless."
"Eek."
"Weapons fine."
Rusty weapons. Info popped up.
'Farmed here, probably.'
Trials yield higher quality. Others drop plain gear.
Trials split: fields, dungeons.
Dungeons double difficulty, but optioned items like this.
Sell pricier than basics—to shops or players.
"Ooh, mine! Gimme!"
...Junk.
Gems worthless post-Earth. Why I didn't bring any.
Shops buy cheap; players ignore.
Still, hoard and sell for cash.
'Need lots.'
I yielded the gem gladly. Shin Seo-yeon pocketed it happily in her pouch, slung on her pack.
Meanwhile, I stowed weapons in inventory. Then rubbed the Saintess's back, still queasy from meat stench.
She gripped my hand tight, refusing to let go.
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