Chapter 16

Chapter 16
Hunting. Naturally, hunting existed in this post-apocalyptic reality as well. While regular quarterly subjugation sweeps focused primarily on maintaining perimeter safety and gathering essential materials, hunting in this era functioned mostly as a leisure activity for the privileged upper class. In essence, its core purpose closely mirrored sports hunting in the traditional world. High-ranking officers would position themselves inside fortified watchtowers and use long-range rifles to pick off distant monsters. It was essentially a safe indoor pastime where participants competed against the clock to see who could harvest the highest number of targets.

However, the expedition I was planning bore no resemblance to that superficial routine. I intended to hunt genuinely and directly. My goal was not leisure or friendly wagers, but the acquisition of actual meat in the most literal sense.

“I have zero interest in lounging comfortably within the protected perimeter, eating meals prepared from someone else’s labor, and pretending I contributed anything meaningful.”

“Are you out of your mind?”

Wrapped heavily in thick cold-weather garments, Meursault kept repeating the question as though struggling to process my words.

“We are stepping past the boundary to track game? Just the two of us?”

When I initially began dressing with extra care and declared my intention to hunt, Meursault must have assumed it was merely a young boy’s romanticized whim, fussing over gear to play out a fantasy. Even when he formally notified Commander Hayden that he would accompany the young master on a tracking trip, he never imagined it would resemble an actual field excursion. The realization only dawned on him when he noticed me heading away from the watchtower toward the outer perimeter and continuing past it. Panic finally set in as he asked precisely where we were headed, and upon hearing my confirmation that we were hunting, the gravity of the situation struck him.

“This is sheer madness… carrying a single rifle… alongside a child like this…”

As we crossed the safety perimeter and waded through thick layers of snow, Meursault’s anxious muttering followed me continuously. Naturally, someone native to this era would possess deep familiarity with the terrain and local monster habitats, meaning even an ordinary ten-year-old would know the risks. But Meursault remained completely unaware of how much knowledge I actually held, making his panic entirely justified. Had he understood beforehand that a genuine wilderness hunt was our objective, Commander Hayden would have flatly refused permission.

“Meursault, we haven’t even traveled very far from the zone yet.”

“I stay safely in the rear echelon during actual subjugation operations!”

Right. He was fundamentally a staff officer through and through. Even so, he was technically a soldier; displaying that level of visible terror right behind a child seemed hardly appropriate.

“If anything happens to Young Master Haydam, my life is completely forfeit!”

Ah. So his overriding dread wasn’t the monsters themselves, but rather facing summary execution by the commander. I had little choice but to fabricate a few reassuring falsehoods to calm his nerves.

“Back during my days surviving in the slums, whenever food supplies dwindled, the other kids and I regularly went out foraging and hunting. I am fully aware of safe distances and which creature sizes a kid my build can handle. Relax.”

“Is that so? Ah, so that explains your marksmanship… Wait, but you claimed earlier that this was your first time…”

I momentarily tightened up internally, though I kept my outward composure completely steady.

“Do you honestly think the slums had firearms? We only ever targeted beasts that could be brought down with heavy clubs or iron pipes.”

Naturally, today’s intended target could never be subdued with simple blunt instruments, which justified bringing a rifle along. Only upon hearing that explanation did Meursault look somewhat placated, quietly falling in line behind me.

In reality, I could easily have managed the expedition alone. Yet, disappearing entirely without explanation would trigger unnecessary chaos, so I brought him along primarily to serve as a recognized escort. Furthermore, I needed an authentic witness to substantiate my eventual exploits. In any case, my goal was to participate in the active subjugation campaigns as quickly as possible, which required proving my capability as an active warrior on the front lines.

“This location looks ideal.”

We halted our march only upon encountering faint tracks left by a diminutive creature. Meursault’s expression brightened visibly the moment he spotted the prints.

“Based on that track size, it shouldn’t present any severe danger.”

I offered him a reassuring smile, then began shoveling packed snow alongside the creature’s path until I constructed a temporary blind large enough to conceal two people. Afterward, I walked a considerable distance away before carefully retracing my exact footsteps back. We crawled into the snow-covered blind, settled comfortably inside the compacted enclosure, and positioned our gear.

The preliminary preparations were fully complete. Was it merely my imagination, or did Meursault look strangely thrilled as he lay beside me beneath the snow? Well, this type of fieldcraft was entirely new to him as well.

“I will handle the actual takedown. You only need to intervene if the target fails to drop from the initial shot.”

“My accuracy isn’t exceptional, though.”

“Just aim for a limb instead of the core gem, or fire a warning shot to prevent it from escaping. That will be more than sufficient.”

“I can manage that much.”

I had also placed a small biscuit directly in front of the blind to serve as bait. At that point, our task narrowed down to patiently waiting for the quarry to emerge.

How much time elapsed? To my genuine surprise, despite this being his first experience with such a hunting method, Meursault maintained his hidden posture far longer than anticipated. Still, as the minutes dragged onward, even a soldier’s discipline faced limits. Just as his hands began trembling slightly around the rifle stock, the target finally appeared.

It was larger than a typical rabbit—nearly approaching the dimensions of a small dog. A lagomorph featuring distinct deer-like antlers branching from its head followed the existing trail, hopping closer until it came to a complete halt directly in front of our concealed blind.

“Oh… at that scale, I could probably grab it with my bare hands.”

What an absolute novice at field tracking.

Quiet.

I mouthed the warning toward him, holding my breath completely while keeping my gaze locked firmly on the animal ahead. The antlered rabbit cast cautious glances about, sniffed the biscuit, took an initial tiny nibble, and then began chewing at a sluggish pace.

Why is it chewing so slowly?

Meursault silently formed the question with his mouth, and I mouthed the reply right back.

Checking for poison.

Minor creatures of this classification possessed extreme intelligence. Massive beasts relied entirely on brute physical might and rarely needed complex survival strategies, whereas smaller monsters required razor-sharp instincts to persist in a hostile environment.

Once the creature concluded the biscuit was safe, it accelerated its pace and began devouring the food earnestly. I simply observed quietly. Meursault shot me a puzzled look.

Aren’t you going to take the shot?

Wait.

Meursault looked bewildered but obediently kept his breath held. The actual prize I sought was not a small beast like this one. What I truly aimed to attract was the medium-sized predator that preyed upon these smaller creatures. And the element those mid-sized monsters craved above all else was the scent of fresh blood.

While the antlered rabbit remained entirely engrossed in the biscuit, I slipped a small blade from my sleeve and swiftly sliced the back of my own hand.

“You absolute lunatic!”

Having watched closely while wondering what I intended to do with the weapon, Meursault let out a sharp cry of sheer horror. Startled by the noise, the antlered rabbit sensed our presence and attempted to bolt—but it was already far too late. The exact microsecond Meursault shouted, my hand shot outward through the firing port of the blind to grab the creature firmly by its antlers while keeping the rest of my body concealed.

“Kyaaak!”

The piercing shriek of the rabbit as it thrashed wildly in my grip, combined with the rich scent of blood welling from the back of my hand, drifted rapidly across the open snowfield.

How long did the chaotic struggling persist?

Thud, thud, thud, thud…

From a greater distance away came the heavy, ground-shaking footsteps of something that had picked up the blood scent and was charging directly toward our position.

This specific sector remained relatively secure precisely because a dominant territorial apex beast inhabited it. Possessing the massive body of a hippopotamus paired with the heavy hooves of a boar, it devoured everything residing within its domain. The antlered rabbit had fallen for a simple biscuit only because neighboring food sources had been completely exhausted.

However, these creature-hybrids instinctively fled at the direct sight of humans, meaning they had to be lured out using a smaller beast as live bait. This exact reason dictated why I used my own blood rather than Meursault’s. Monsters could intuitively gauge the mass of a bleeding entity based purely on scent intensity; Meursault’s blood volume would have caused it to approach with excessive caution. Slaughtering the rabbit purely for its blood would have created the same complication, while discharging a firearm would have dispersed the creature entirely due to the lingering smell of gunpowder. The bait needed to scream loudly to draw sharp attention so the charging beast could pinpoint the exact coordinates and rush forward.

Convinced that a small, injured animal was wandering unprotected inside its territory, the beast charged straight ahead blindly, utterly unaware that it was sprinting directly into a fatal trap.

The vivid red gem embedded squarely in the center of its forehead caught the harsh sunlight as it barreled forward.

Magic Marksman / Der Freischütz

I released my grip on the rabbit’s antlers, pushed myself up from behind the snow blind, and leveled my rifle directly at the oncoming creature.

The exact instant it caught sight of humans, faltered, and momentarily slowed its charge—

Bang—

A single well-placed round was all it took to completely shatter the crystalline gem embedded in its skull.

The massive carcass tipped over sideways into the snow. Meursault stared fixedly at me with an expression of profound shock and deep admiration. I flashed a wide grin back at him.

“What are you standing around for? Go haul it over here. Tonight’s inaugural feast is going to be a proper pork belly banquet.”

I had a very specific rationale for selecting that particular dish for our first gathering.

Players dropped into this reality were overwhelmingly Korean—unless some foreign tourist happenstance had stranded them inside a local convenience store prior to the collapse. Consequently, I deduced they would experience an intense nostalgic reaction to authentic Korean cuisine. Of course, system-bound players fundamentally could not enjoy physical food flavors. That exact limitation was precisely why the facial expressions of native non-player characters and actual players diverged so dramatically during such meals.

A player staring helplessly at a grilled pork belly feast they lacked the ability to taste would wear a mask of absolute inner agony. For any Korean possessing an avatar body within this realm, it represented a dish they were psychologically incapable of ignoring.

I briefly contemplated preparing fried chicken as well… but a dedicated Chicken Zone already existed within the region. Serving poultry inside the Cola Zone would make us look deficient in culinary pride. Besides, my cooking skills were hardly advanced. Compared to alternative dishes, how complicated was grilling pork belly? It required nothing more than slicing the meat slabs and applying direct heat.

Meursault had previously asked what pork belly even was; I simply chose to ignore him.

Eventually, the designated day of the banquet—or rather, the private gathering with children matching my own age group—finally arrived. The commander honored his commitment and arranged a social meal with peers around my demographic. Since the participant count was small, the barbecue was hosted comfortably inside the main mansion. Rather than confining everyone to formal seated dining, we stood informally, accepting freshly grilled meat portions as they came off the grill.

The official justification given to the staff was to let the children eat freely without feeling constrained by my noble status. The actual underlying objective, however, was to make it effortless for RoomCornerHoney and Taejeong to approach me and converse without restriction.

“You’ve got some surprisingly clever tricks up your sleeve, don’t you? Figuring out schemes like this.”

The first person to walk directly up to me was RoomCornerHoney. After spending several weeks apart, he appeared slightly more mature than the somewhat scatterbrained kid I initially encountered. Operating under the brief assumption that he had genuinely matured, I signaled toward Taejeong—who was currently standing near the grilling station wearing an expression of absolute tragic despair—and introduced them without a shred of lingering suspicion.

“What? Taejeong? Taese? Beyoncé?”

RoomCornerHoney immediately threw an absolute fit.

“I wasn’t the only support player brought in? You managed to infiltrate the mansion ahead of me? In that case, I didn’t even need to bother enlisting, you absolute son of a—!”

This idiot hadn’t matured by a single fraction of an inch.