Becoming the Dystopian Swordsman
Elly Wayris’s conjecture was valid.
NH-03 recipients were mostly from the middle class or above, excluding minors and those who had just reached adulthood.
In this world, the “normal” population was predominantly the socioeconomically vulnerable.
This was also a problem inherent to the cyberpunk genre.
Cyberpunk is a paradoxical world where utopian levels of advanced electronic technology coexist with a dystopian extreme of wealth disparity.
A world where corporate power outweighs governmental authority.
In such a world, the proportion of vulnerable populations is high.
And marginalized vulnerable groups are closely tied to crime.
Besides, crime is something that’s hardest the first time—the second time is much easier.
It’s only natural that those who have already dipped their toes into the swamp of crime would become looters in the midst of chaos.
Thus, during in-game play, the two largest survivor clans were:
The Liberation Front, primarily composed of gangs from the criminal quarantine zones.
The Urban Reconstruction Committee, led by the remaining elites and students.
From the perspective of veteran players, both groups were little more than schools of minnows—too insignificant in number. But if they continued on their current path, who knew what butterfly effects they might trigger?
‘If only the radiation exposure disappeared, human survival rates would skyrocket.’
During the initial seven days of the game, only 1% of the city’s population survived.
Even if that number increased fivefold to 5%, it would still be a significant figure.
In such a situation—
‘If it were me…’
What would I do?
To survive long-term, I’d need to form a group.
Numbers equal power, after all.
But what kind of group?
‘Assuming I have to live here for the rest of my life…’
Was I thinking too far ahead?
No, I didn’t think so.
I pondered for a moment.
The post-apocalyptic genre films I’d seen in the modern world.
Their endings were usually bleak.
A lone protagonist.
A battle against loneliness.
A cliché I used to complain about for being overused now didn’t feel so distant.
‘Still, if I’m going to survive, it’d be better with more people around.’
And to achieve that, one condition absolutely had to be met.
‘All mutants and infected must be eliminated.’
At least within this city.
Of course, even that was close to impossible.
But it had to be done.
You couldn’t dream of a comfortable life under the constant threat of an unpredictable plague.
Since the conclusion that “living alone for long is meaningless” came quickly, my delusions raced toward their end.
“I’ll form a group. A group specialized in hunting mutants and infected.”
“Huff… huff… What?”
“No, nothing.”
“Hah… Okay.”
Nothing was more awkward than accidentally voicing out inner thoughts.
I didn’t turn around to look at Elly, who was panting behind me, but her breathing told me everything about her condition.
‘Still, she’s keeping up well.’
It would be a lie to say I hadn’t adjusted my pace at all.
But that was also to regulate my own stamina.
‘The mechanical cardiopulmonary performance really is impressive. To move this much without any status effects… Or is it because she’s also humanity’s strongest weapon?’
Normally, at least the [Fatigued] status effect would have appeared by now.
From this point on, stamina management was crucial.
I could endure up to the second stage, [Very Fatigued].
But once the third stage, [Exhausted], or the fourth, [Collapse], kicked in, I wouldn’t even be able to stand.
Her current condition was at best [Exhausted].
Close to [Collapse].
The only saving grace was that the Central Control Center was right ahead.
“Let’s rest for a bit.”
“Hah… You’re tired?”
“…I’m exhausted.”
I hadn’t suggested a break purely out of consideration for her.
I didn’t have the luxury of time or leisure for that.
It was just that a reason to stop had appeared right before my eyes.
‘Gangs.’
A group of people gathered in small clusters, hammering at the Central Control Center with sledgehammers.
Thanks to Gale Wayris’s glasses, the added trait [Hawk’s Eye] allowed me to see the situation clearly even from a distance.
‘About fifty of them.’
A sub-story flashed through my mind.
“Ugh, don’t even ask. In the early days, this place was hell.”
“Gang bastards tried to break down the doors… And just when things calmed down a bit, the mayor, who’d been acting crazy, suddenly charged in…”
Testimonies from survivors that could be heard if you rushed to the Central Control Center early in the game.
‘So this is that situation.’
I didn’t know exactly why they were trying to break into the Central Control Center, but now that I thought about it, I could guess.
‘They wanted to escalate the chaos.’
Of course, they didn’t know that the end stage of the symptoms was mutation.
So they were likely trying to take advantage of the chaos to make a hefty profit.
Gangs weren’t even worth dealing with, but the thought of them blocking my path was irritating.
‘The problem is the stress level.’
If an encounter happened here, choosing to kill would undoubtedly raise my stress level.
My current stress level was 30.
Given the nature of killing, the stress increase would be the highest possible.
Meaning it was almost certain that a negative trait would be added.
‘This is an unforeseen situation.’
“Hmm.”
From a veteran player’s perspective, encounters in situations like this happened 100% of the time.
‘The door won’t break anyway. I don’t need to solve this for them.’
So, how could I enter without going through the main entrance?
That was tricky.
Using a side route would be the way, but…
Of course, the side routes would be blocked too.
Breaking through a side route would likely make a lot of noise.
And attract the gangs’ attention.
‘Wait, maybe it’s fine?’
Listening closely, the atmosphere was already chaotic.
If I didn’t make any loud noises, I might be able to slip in unnoticed.
Still, I couldn’t afford to add a negative trait this early.
I mapped out the ideal infiltration route in my head.
‘I can’t take Elly with me.’
Obviously, Elly had to be left behind.
I hadn’t brought her along expecting immediate help anyway, so it didn’t bother me.
“From here on, I’ll go alone.”
“Hah… What?”
Her pronunciation had finally cleared up, suggesting she’d caught her breath.
She raised an eyebrow in confusion.
“There’s a gang ahead. If you listen closely, you can hear the noise.”
“That’s… right. But why would a gang come here?”
“They probably want even more chaos.”
“You’re saying they came to the Control Center for that reason?”
“Just a guess, but most likely.”
“That’s insane.”
Once Elly grasped the situation, she let out a sigh.
The Central Control Center was the heart of the government.
The idea of destroying such a place in the midst of chaos would seem absurd to ordinary people.
“I’ll follow after you handle it, Mister Han.”
“No. I plan to infiltrate without causing a disturbance.”
“How are you going to shut down the reactor without me?”
“I didn’t bring you here expecting that kind of help. I’ll figure it out myself.”
“Then why did you…?”
Suddenly, Elly cut herself off and made a sullen face.
She’d realized it on her own.
From the start, she’d been dead weight.
And now, she’d be even more of a burden.
“…Alright. If you need help, come back for me. I’ll do whatever I can.”
“Just stay hidden. If the gang finds you, things will get messy.”
She didn’t respond, but I didn’t need to hear one.
She knew it herself.
‘No need to worry about her anymore.’
Once I infiltrated the Central Control Center, I could resolve this quickly.
If I handled it fast, there’d be no problems.
“What did you just say?”
“Th-The tasers… aren’t charged.”
“Sigh…”
For once, Sasaki Ken felt a deep, boiling anger rising within him.
“Equipment manager.”
“…”
“Equipment manager, you son of a— Hah, where is he?”
“Well, the equipment manager is also showing unexplained symptoms…”
How can I legally bash the equipment manager’s skull in?
Sasaki Ken had no choice but to ponder this while gripping his riot baton.
That was the limit of his rational thought at the moment.
“…Start charging the tasers now.”
“Yes, sir!”
‘What do we do now?’
That was the shared thought of everyone present.
The Control Center had a total of 500 personnel.
But only about 100 showed no symptoms.
And since most of them had never been in a fight, they stood no chance against gangs for whom violence was routine.
“What if we pair up and take them on one by one?”
“Manager, did you see what those bastards are armed with?”
“Well…”
The gangs’ weapons were on a completely different level from riot batons.
Classic machetes, industrial pipes, and sledgehammers—along with the occasional gunshot noises—made it clear they were also carrying firearms.
If their weapons had been weak, they might have stood a chance, but with firearms in the mix, the situation was different.
“They don’t seem to have explosives… Let’s just barricade the main door and wait.”
That was the best they could come up with.
“If that’s the director’s decision, we’ll follow it.”
“With the director here, we feel safe!”
The responses made his brow furrow.
In this ruthless world, those words were just bureaucratic hot potato.
Sasaki Ken knew exactly what they really meant.
‘You sons of bitches…’
Meanwhile, the loud banging continued.
BANG!
“Open the door! We’ll let you live if you open it now!”
“We’re busy here!”
The main door was gradually buckling under the repeated hammering.
Watching it, Sasaki Ken grew increasingly anxious.
“What are you doing? Bring out all the furniture!”
“Yes, sir!”
“Anything heavy, large, and solid—gather it all!”
It was the most rational decision he could make, but how long could they hold out?
All he could do was hope they’d leave soon. There wasn’t much else he could do.
Was there really no way?
He was drowning in endless worries and distress.
‘I have to do this… If not me, no one else can.’
Sasaki Ken.
26 years old.
Despite his young age, being the highest-ranking among the hundred or so survivors was the result of his achievement as the youngest high-ranking civil servant.
So he knew.
In this closed-off group, he was the only one who could think straight.
But no matter how hard he racked his brain, no answer came.
Living in such an insular environment might have dulled even his sharp intellect.
But then—
“Try using a medical defibrillator.”
“Huh?”
Not yes, not okay—just huh?
His response alone betrayed his confusion.
“The door’s metal, so electricity will conduct. If you fire a defibrillator at it, you might luck out and electrocute a few. Or maybe douse them with water and use electronics to shock them.”
“Who are you? How did you get in here?”
“Ah, nice to meet you. I’m from Wayris.”
The East Asian man’s indifferent expression as he spoke made Ken respond in a dazed voice.
“Wayris…? Wait, how did you even get in?”
“Well, through the underground parking lot.”
“That door was locked too…”
“Yeah, well. So I broke it.”
Ken couldn’t believe his ears at the last words.
