I Became the Dystopian Swordsman
-Stress Level: 30-
The current level is 30.
There’s still a buffer of 70 points before a negative trait manifests.
However, killing survivors demands far more stress than one might expect.
The more you kill, the slower the stress accumulates—eventually, it stops altogether. But the problem is, I’m not at that point yet.
‘If I’m unlucky, I’ll gain a negative trait right away.’
If I’m lucky, I might barely scrape by.
In this situation, the choice to confront the Monello Family suddenly became a dilemma.
Even if a negative trait appears, taking them down now would still be worth it in the long run.
‘If I leave them be…’
I had a feeling I’d regret it later.
No—not just them. All mafia scum must be eradicated when the opportunity arises.
Their atrocities and cruelty are one thing, but the real issue is their catastrophic trolling.
For their own survival, they indiscriminately sacrifice other survivors.
Even the so-called Liberation Front, led by gangs and criminals, has some semblance of humanity. But these guys? None at all.
When supplies run low, they send associates—low-level members—to lure infected hordes toward other survivor clans.
The moment those clans collapse, they dispatch soldatos—enforcers—to loot what remains.
And if they target a player character?
Hell begins.
They keep trying, even after failing.
Persistent to the end, as befits a criminal organization.
Now that I’ve stumbled upon one of these mafia families while they’re still a budding threat…
The stress level feels like a secondary concern.
‘It’s true—pests are best exterminated early.’
But that’s purely a player’s perspective.
For the current me, it might not be so simple.
Crunch—
Now for the practical problem.
There’s a vast difference between a game character killing humans and actually wielding a blade to cut them down.
That’s why I couldn’t help but hesitate.
No—
Maybe, deep down, this was why I’d unconsciously avoided this encounter in the first place.
The stress level and the inevitable future were just excuses.
‘Thinking about it, I can’t keep running forever.’
An uncomfortable truth I had to face.
Once again, I felt that sinking sensation creeping through my body.
This time, I endured it and observed the situation with detachment.
‘If I have to experience this eventually, maybe a loose situation like this is better…’
The time it took for hesitation to turn into resolve, and resolve into action, wasn’t long.
What I needed now was courage and composure.
When I turned around, Sasaki Ken’s grave expression met me.
“Made up your mind?”
“Listen carefully from now on.”
Perhaps because of my changed demeanor, Ken swallowed dryly and focused without another word.
“They’re armed with three handguns and one shotgun. The models don’t hold much ammo, but their reload speed is decent. A head-on fight would put us at a disadvantage.”
“Right.”
“There are three options. First, we wait for them to leave. The plastic explosives are a bluff—if they had any, they’d have used them by now.”
“Mmm…!”
Ken nodded as if it made sense.
“What’s the second?”
“Lure them into wasting their ammo, then ambush them when they’re empty.”
“That’s a bit…”
Ken paced briefly, lost in thought.
From below, urgent voices called out.
“Sir!”
“Still… even if the explosives are a bluff, waiting isn’t a solution. What’s the third option?”
“We bait them.”
1st Floor
The civil servants, terrified of the gunfire, had retreated from the entrance.
Ken addressed them in a somber tone.
“First, gather all the water from the toilets and any drinks you can find. We’ll douse the entrance and electrify it to block them.”
“Toilet water?”
“The blackout cut off the water supply. We’ll have to make do.”
“Understood, sir.”
We had to shift the mood.
A sense of helplessness wouldn’t help at all.
Dousing the entrance and floor with conductive liquid and electrifying it with batteries was a small but effective way to change that.
“Just so you know, we don’t have car batteries. If we try using the building’s power, the circuit breaker will trip.”
“I’ll leave that part to you.”
“Sigh… We’ll manage. But is this really feasible?”
“Yes, theoretically.”
“I’m asking about practicality, not theory.”
“If it weren’t practical, I wouldn’t have suggested it.”
The strategy was simple.
Set a trap and lure them in.
By making the main entrance a hazard, they’d have no choice but to seek another route.
Most likely, they’d find the underground parking lot’s rear door.
That would be the mousetrap.
The rear door’s narrow, corner-filled structure meant they couldn’t swarm in at once.
Only one or two could pass through at a time.
The plan was to block the passage and pick them off one by one.
That was the core of the tactic.
Ken’s conflicted expression stemmed from me—an outsider—volunteering for the most dangerous role.
“Come to think of it, we haven’t introduced ourselves. I’m Sasaki Ken.”
“Kyle Han.”
The belated introduction carried Ken’s lingering guilt.
My response was predetermined.
“Someone had to do it anyway.”
‘Though technically, no one did.’
Broadly speaking…
This wasn’t for them.
It was for me.
If anything, I was using them.
Their fear was leverage to secure their cooperation.
“Let me know when you’re ready.”
By the time Ken finished speaking, preparations were already complete.
Batteries of unknown origin, makeshift wiring, and puddles of liquid covering the floor.
The uneven spread of the liquid was a result of their fear of the mafia’s guns.
I lowered my gaze to my hands.
Clutched in them was Zero, the longsword.
An unbreakable blade, the only one capable of channeling plasma—yet, unupgraded, it emanated nothing but a crude gleam.
“Let’s begin.”
“…Good luck, Han.”
“Don’t worry too much.”
With that, I moved.
The civil servants’ eyes still brimmed with distrust.
Ken was probably giving me the same look from behind.
This operation wasn’t one they fully believed in.
To them, it was just a stalling tactic.
Ken had mentioned the tasers were nearly charged.
Their faith lay in those tasers—not in Kyle Han, the unknown survivor.
They assumed the rear door would be breached and planned to ambush the intruders with fully charged tasers.
But.
For some reason, despite their distrust, I felt an odd pressure.
Because I couldn’t guarantee anything.
I’d never been in a real fight before.
I had to discard the fantasy of moving like a game character.
All I could trust were my traits.
Only my traits.
Lost in thought, I soon reached the rear door, barricaded haphazardly.
I’d told Ken I’d act only if the barricade was breached, but…
‘I have no intention of waiting.’
I didn’t want to drag this out.
But.
Was it worth the risk?
Why?
If not now, when?
When mutants appear?
By then, it’d be too late.
This was the perfect opportunity to test my limits.
Yet, faced with reality, I realized how arrogant my past fantasies had been.
Reflecting on it, this wasn’t just about dealing with a vicious mafia.
‘I believe.’
The memory of pulling Ellie Weirith through the double doors.
The memory of repelling Vergo with a slash skill.
Though fleeting and fragmented, one thing was clear:
I wasn’t an ordinary survivor.
In raw physical ability alone, I stood at the apex.
My sword hand trembled slightly, but I accepted even that, calculating calmly.
The moment I stepped through the entrance, the path turned sharply.
I’d be completely out of their line of sight.
Meaning I could strike first.
Through the gaps in the barricade, no mafia members were visible yet.
The moment I confirmed it—
“W-What the—?! Hey!”
“Ghk—!”
A bewildered shout echoed from afar.
‘It’s started.’
My hands moved busily.
Dismantling a barricade is far more tedious than building one.
But I didn’t dwell on it, hastily clearing the obstacles.
‘This should go here.’
Perhaps a reassembly.
Creating a gap, but arranging it to restrict their movement.
Even if it wasn’t easy, my tireless body and monstrous strength made it possible.
One by one.
The barricade soon had an opening just wide enough for a person.
This would be the true mousetrap.
How long until they found the underground parking lot’s rear door?
It wouldn’t take long.
They might already know its location.
Their refusal to target it earlier stemmed from either arrogance or wisdom.
They might’ve assumed their overwhelming numbers would let them breach the main entrance easily.
Or perhaps they judged breaking through the cramped rear door with limited space for swinging tools would be harder.
My thoughts grew deeper.
Fantasy piled upon fantasy.
The tangled emotions in my head felt like wearing ill-fitting clothes—stifling.
I dealt with it simply.
By emptying my mind.
And focusing.
After a long silence, the sound of furious footsteps arrived.
“Who said the rear door was locked? It’s wide open! What was all that struggle for?”
“I-It really was locked! Why would I lie? Enver—!”
“So they set a trap, huh?”
“Looks like it. There are obstacles too.”
“They must’ve underestimated our family. This trap is amateurish.”
“Hey, you! Hiding in there, planning to ambush us?”
“A real man doesn’t shy from a challenge. This is just cowardly.”
Their voices.
For some reason, the words didn’t fully register.
Because everything was about to unfold.
“You. Go in first.”
“M-Me?!”
“Yeah. You gave false intel about the door being locked. Time to pay up.”
“But—!”
Amid the clamor, faint footsteps crept closer.
‘That’s the decoy. The real steps are quieter.’
Just as I’d prepared a strategy, so had they—crude, but effective.
They were trying to approach silently and breach unexpectedly.
‘Focus.’
Zero’s hilt was already slick with sweat.
Just before the clash, I felt something strange.
‘What is this?’
An eerie, surreal sensation.
Like my mind had cleared—no, expanded.
All my senses, dulled by tension, sharpened as if my perception had widened.
‘This is…’
A peculiar feeling of being myself, yet not.
The footsteps grew clearer, letting me pinpoint their location.
The faint breeze carried whispers of their breathing.
And the moment I embraced those sensations—
[Slash LV.1]
The world expanded.
Ding!
[‘Legendary Swordsmanship Talent’ Activated]
[All Sensory Organs Enhanced]
[Hyperawareness Active]
Swoosh—!!!!
The moment I sliced through the wall—
And the rat hiding behind it.
