Player of the Ruined World – Chapter 006
“Damn it…!”
Normally, when people fall or lose balance, they instinctively stretch out their arms to break the fall.
But these things… the first thing they think about is biting.
He twisted his upper body sharply and flung off the zombie that had latched onto his forearm.
His padded jacket tore, and in that brief moment, a hole had already been punctured through it.
If he hadn’t wrapped his forearm with magazines, he would have been bitten.
“Graaah!!”
The fallen zombie sprang back up like a roly-poly toy and lunged at him again.
Without even checking for injuries, he grabbed his dropped baseball bat and smashed it into the creature’s temple.
Thwack! Thwack! Crack! Snap! Crunch!
He didn’t stop for even a second, relentlessly pounding its head.
This is why fighting multiple zombies is something he wanted to avoid.
Catching his breath, he glanced toward the villa entrance—but no more zombies were coming out.
That didn’t make sense.
He’d killed maybe eight at most.
But the footsteps he’d heard earlier were far more than that.
“Ma’am, step back!”
“Graaah!”
He realized the reason a moment later.
The survivors from the rooftop were coming down the stairs.
The zombies on the staircase had split between going up and down.
He quickly rushed back into the building and took down the confused zombies.
“Haah… haah… haah…”
After several minutes of fighting, he managed to eliminate them all—but at the cost of exhausting himself.
The situation had been urgent, and he had also lost his composure and rushed in recklessly.
“Are you alright?”
A man’s voice came from the stairs.
Looking up, he saw a man in his early 30s staring at him.
Behind him were a woman in her mid-30s and a child who looked about five years old.
The man bowed deeply.
“Thank you for saving us.”
“….”
“You lured the zombies to the first floor on purpose, didn’t you?”
They must have heard the sound of him hitting the railing earlier.
Instead of answering, he nodded.
His heart was beating too fast to speak.
His torn jacket and throbbing forearm reminded him—
If not for the notebooks wrapped around his arm with tape, he would have turned into a zombie.
He brushed back his hair and asked,
“The kid’s father?”
“…Pardon?”
“The child’s father. You’re not him.”
“How did you…?”
“I heard you talking upstairs.”
The man looked moved, as if he thought the protagonist had come because of the child’s cries.
He hesitated, then suddenly bowed at a full 90 degrees.
“I’m sorry to ask this of you, but please… could you help us—”
“I came to help. Do you know where the father went?”
“He said he’d lure them toward the church with my younger brother.”
A church… he had an idea where that was.
“Your older brother is the child’s father?”
“Yes.”
“Is he a Shooter?”
“…!”
The man stared at him in shock.
How did he know?
To lure zombies like that, you need visibility.
And earlier, the first thing he heard was “They’re coming.”
You couldn’t say that with confidence unless you could see clearly.
Reacting to the child’s cry had been instinctive—but if his guess was right…
This was a good party composition.
“The child’s father chose Shooter, and he’s the one luring zombies, correct?”
“…Yes.”
“What about the rest of you?”
“We each picked different abilities. Shooter, Maker, Whisper. And my sister-in-law here is a Healing Factor.”
Just as expected.
There were five character types in No Way Home, and the smartest move was to pick different ones.
More importantly, none of them had chosen Buster.
Without bonus points like him, surviving as Buster early on was nearly impossible.
‘This is a solid team.’
People willing to risk their lives to lure zombies for others.
A man ready to go back into danger to save his brother.
Skill aside—they had loyalty.
And since they’d survived this long with a child, they likely had ability too.
“Follow me.”
“Wait.”
“…?”
“Taking my sister-in-law and niece with us is a bit—”
“That’s why you should follow me.”
He entered the villa across the street and opened the door to the fourth-floor unit.
There were no signs of anyone inside.
“The woman and child stay here.”
“We should at least check for zombies—”
“No need.”
“…What?”
“There are zombies in shared spaces, but not in private living areas.”
“How can you be sure?”
“I’ve confirmed it over the past two days.”
With that, he headed for the stairs.
The man hesitated, then turned to the woman.
“Stay inside. If we come back, I’ll knock three times. Don’t open before that.”
“Be careful.”
He gently patted the child’s head.
“Your uncle will bring your dad back.”
The child sniffled and nodded.
After saying goodbye, the man joined him.
“Let’s go.”
“Your name?”
“Baek Doyoon.”
“Thank you, Mr. Baek. My name is Park Sangha.”
“You said earlier—brothers?”
“Yes. Three of us.”
A close-knit family.
He checked the 3D map.
“We’ll take the shortest route. Stay close.”
“What is that?”
Sangha asked, looking at the holographic map.
“I’ll explain later. After we save your brothers… if we’re still alive.”
They reached the church without encountering zombies.
It seemed the brothers had drawn most of them away.
“What are your brothers’ names?”
“The older one is Park Sangil, the younger is Park Sanghoon.”
He nodded and entered a convenience store nearby.
He grabbed soju bottles, cooking oil, olive oil, and alarm clocks.
“Carry these.”
“Why…?”
“If you’re going to lure zombies, use your brain—not your body.”
Though confused, Sangha followed instructions.
They entered the church.
The zombies inside immediately turned toward them.
“Run!”
They sprinted toward the stairs.
The church’s main hall was two stories.
If the brothers were alive, they’d be upstairs.
On the second floor, zombies were banging on a door.
At least ten of them.
“Pour the oil on the stairs!”
“On the stairs?!”
“Now!”
The staircase was narrow, but the pressure from ten zombies was overwhelming.
Crunch! Crack!
Zombies bit into his forearms and gloves.
The forearm pain was manageable—but biting his fingers crossed the line.
“Damn… that hurts!”
He shoved them aside and swung his bat.
The zombies slipped on the oil and tumbled down the stairs.
Sangha, half out of his mind, kept pouring oil nonstop.
For mindless creatures charging at prey, this was the perfect barrier.
Zombies below flailed helplessly on the slick stairs.
He killed those he could and threw others down.
After clearing the second floor, he approached the door.
“Park Sangil! Park Sanghoon! Are you inside?!”
Muffled voices responded.
“We’re with Park Sangha! Your wife and child are safe! Open the door!”
The door flew open instantly.
From his expression alone, he could tell—this was the father.
“Who are you?”
“Baek Doyoon. Explanations later—let’s move.”
Sangil glanced at Sangha, still pouring oil.
Doyoon grabbed Sangha’s arm.
“That’s enough. Move.”
Sangha looked dazed, then finally snapped out of it.
“Now what?”
“Follow me.”
They entered the main hall and locked the doors.
Zombies wandered below.
Some hadn’t noticed prey above.
Others had.
Doyoon picked up a soju bottle.
“Is this all?”
“Yes.”
He nodded.
“Everyone, keep your heads down.”
He hurled the bottle toward the altar.
Crash!!
The sound echoed through the hall.
Glass shattering—one of the most attention-grabbing noises.
He kept throwing bottles and scattered alarm clocks set to ring in one minute.
Then they hid.
The number of zombies below… easily over a hundred.
Riiiing—!!!
“GRAAAAHHH!!”
As the alarms rang, zombies surged toward the sound.
“Go, now!”
They returned to the oil-covered stairs.
With no zombies left below, they carefully crawled down.
“Careful…”
One zombie still twitched, snapping its jaws at his arm.
He smashed its face with the bat grip and crushed its skull.
Watching this, Sangil swallowed hard.
“…What the hell are you?”
Doyoon replied calmly,
“I’ll explain when we get back.”
After herding the zombies into the main hall, they quietly slipped out of the church.
