I Became the Dystopia’s Swordsman
“Focus.”
“…But, Chief.”
Bergo Heinz.
His expression remained calm.
Even as yet another person died before his eyes.
“We only think about what we have to do.”
The Bizen Pharmaceutical Research Lab had already turned into chaos.
Perhaps because countless infected had swarmed the place right after the disaster struck.
A pharmaceutical research facility quickly became a target for looters.
And Bergo, who had led the assault on Bizen, couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt.
He just couldn’t show it.
Only his dull, sunken eyes betrayed his emotions.
“Have you checked the first floor and the basement?”
“Yes. There was some resistance from Bizen’s security, but… they ‘cooperated’ in the end.”
At the word “cooperated,” Bergo’s eyebrow twitched slightly.
The bruises on his subordinate’s face made it clear what kind of “cooperation” had taken place.
“So, there was no neutralizer there either?”
“No, Chief.”
Bergo.
His gaze wandered briefly.
To steady himself.
Amidst the cacophony of shouts and noise,
an inexplicable voice kept echoing in his head.
‘A catastrophic event will happen someday. And when it does, I’ll realize what I was meant to do.’
How much did he know?
If mutants really are emerging…
If things truly escalate to that point…
No, that’s too hasty.
He forced the doubt away.
But small suspicions kept rising,
soon solidifying into full-blown distrust.
Doubt in his own choices.
And that doubt was the very thing clouding his judgment.
“If we find the neutralizer, we pull out immediately.”
Still, he couldn’t back down now.
Not after abandoning his mission.
He had to see this through.
And with comrades following his lead—
“We have to find it.”
There was no retreat.
Bergo’s dull, murky eyes darkened further.
Part 2
As the tension eased, the back of my neck ached.
An awkward silence lingered. At the end of it came a sigh, almost like a complaint.
“Haaah…”
“You… actually did it.”
Ellie’s voice, delayed but finally breaking the quiet.
“Yeah.”
Everything had fallen into place, and time began moving again.
“What will you do now?”
A very specific question.
I had to take a moment to think.
‘This is just the beginning.’
I’d solved the most critical issue, but in terms of what lay ahead, I’d only laid a partial foundation.
There was no time to rest.
“What time is it now?”
“Time? Let me see… 7 PM.”
Five hours left.
‘Plenty.’
Subjectively, it felt like a whole day had passed, but more time remained than I’d thought.
There was so much I could do.
Now, it was a matter of choice.
With so many options, I had to be careful.
‘What I need to do now…’
Prepare for the mutants.
Soon, an overwhelming number of them would emerge.
‘If I stuck to my original playstyle, I’d be farming supplies at key locations.’
But from my current perspective, that wasn’t the worst—but still a bad choice.
‘If I rule out solo play…’
The answer was already decided.
I’d preferred solo play, but that didn’t mean I didn’t understand other options.
As I’d resolved earlier—
I needed to form a group dedicated solely to hunting mutants and infected.
To survive in this world, every last one had to be eradicated.
And the first condition for such a group?
A shared purpose.
The will to fight for the same goal.
Nothing was more important.
That’s why it was so hard for players to form new factions.
No matter how skilled the survivors you recruited, if their goals didn’t align, the group would fracture.
Building a tower is hard, but a poorly built one collapses in an instant.
‘There are plenty of examples.’
I didn’t have to look far.
The countless clans that would emerge—
Major ones like the [Urban Reconstruction Committee] and [Liberation Front],
smaller ones like the [Technicians’ Guild], [Mafia Union], and [Scavengers].
In the end, their downfall always came from internal conflict.
So, if I was forming a group, I needed a solid foundation from the start.
But where could I find people who’d stay committed to the end?
The answer was already clear.
‘The 5th Defense Force.’
The ones known as [Fire Moths].
They were the only ones who met all the conditions.
‘If I’m building a faction, they’re the foundation.’
A specialized mutant-hunting group.
Of course, they weren’t ready for combat yet.
‘Even if they’re lacking now, I can train them myself.’
The Defense Force was rough around the edges, but they were the closest thing to a proper military in this world.
Still, there was another reason I had to choose the 5th.
All other Defense Forces would collapse.
There was a grim truth hidden behind their weakness.
NH-03 was one of the “benefits” given to the Defense Force.
In other words—
‘The trained officers and executives were always meant to become mutants.’
The only ones left would be raw recruits.
So when the mutants first emerged, it was only natural that the leaderless recruits would be wiped out instantly.
But the 5th Defense Force was an exception.
They were the unclassified soldiers.
Those who had been encouraged to reintegrate into society but refused—gathering in this one place.
In this world, they were called trash, but players knew them as [Fire Moths].
Denied NH-03’s “benefits,” they survived—and unlike the others, they upheld their duty as soldiers to the end.
Maybe it was their inferiority complex.
Or their desperate desire to be recognized as real soldiers.
But without player intervention, their time in the spotlight lasted at most three weeks.
If I intervened, though…
That future could easily change.
Because I could predict the countless possibilities ahead.
“Mr. Han?”
Had I been lost in thought too long?
Ellie, looking uneasy, couldn’t hold back and spoke up again.
So I pulled myself together and looked up.
Before me stood Ellie, Ken, and the other officials.
‘I need Ellie. But the others…’
The more I thought, the more complicated it got.
My gaze suddenly turned to Ken.
“Mr. Sasaki.”
He, too, had been deep in thought.
Slow to respond, he blinked.
“…Yeah?”
“Will you come with me?”
An impulsive question.
Sasaki Ken.
I didn’t know how much help he’d be in terms of ability.
His mindset and actions were different from mine.
Friction would be inevitable.
And yet—
The reason I asked was simple.
For some reason, I wanted him to come.
I didn’t want to see him—a man with the title [Humanist]—become a wanderer again.
“Where to?”
“I’m leaving now to prepare for the disaster.”
“……”
Just as my question had been impulsive, his reaction was one of surprise.
Ken rubbed his forehead, trying to hide his bewilderment.
“That’s… sudden. Do you really need me?”
“No.”
I didn’t lie.
It was just a genuine offer.
“Then why…?”
“I just thought it’d be nice if you came.”
“Wait, uh… are you into—?”
“It’s not like that.”
My deadpan reply made him grimace before blinking rapidly.
He didn’t take long to decide.
His answer, delivered in a voice half-bored and half-resigned, was:
“I’m the highest-ranking official here.”
Responsibility.
Despite his tone, he chose duty.
“If everyone else was coming, I’d think about it… but no. If I suggested that, they’d refuse anyway.”
True.
Judging by the atmosphere, the other officials wouldn’t follow.
It was such a him answer that I could only respect it.
A little disappointing, but it also put me at ease.
“I understand.”
“Yeah, well… thanks for understanding.”
‘No need to push it.’
You can’t force someone to be your ally.
A forced partnership is like meshing gears of different sizes—
they’ll only grind against each other.
So I wouldn’t take Ken with me.
But that didn’t mean—
I’d send him off without a care.
“Mr. Sasaki, listen carefully to what I say next.”
I’d help.
Even if I didn’t take him, I’d give him the tools to survive.
“Start by separating those showing symptoms. If you can’t believe they’ll turn into mutants, at least treat it like a contagious disease.”
“Uh… yeah.”
“And arm your people. Tasers are useless. Give them blades instead. For protection… even just wrapping thick cloth around their forearms and hands will help.”
“Wait, hold on. You’re talking like you’ve been through this before.”
He cut me off, looking utterly lost.
I didn’t want to drag this out with excuses, so I pressed on.
“Lastly—”
I warned him about the worst choice he could make.
“Do not, under any circumstances, think about hiding in the subway or a high-rise.”
“You didn’t answer my—”
“If things get desperate, stay here instead. If you have friends or family who haven’t taken NH-03, bring them to the Control Center. This place will be the safest. And if word spreads that people are trapped here—”
“……”
“—I’ll come back for them.”
Sasaki Ken.
When mutants emerged, he would gather like-minded people and escape the Central Control Center.
That would be his first choice.
Then, he’d turn the subway into a shelter—his second choice.
It wouldn’t take him long to realize both were the worst possible decisions.
And in the end, he’d lose his comrades and wander endlessly.
‘I’ve said enough. He’ll figure it out.’
When the time came, I couldn’t force his hand.
I could only hope my advice would guide him to the right choice.
Maybe my sincerity got through.
Ken took a deep breath and met my gaze with an unreadable look.
“Who are you, really?”
“I think that’s the third time I’ve heard that today.”
“Are you really from Wayris?”
“I stopped by Wayris before coming here.”
Did I need to explain how I foresaw all this?
“…Thank you.”
Ken didn’t press further. Instead, he bowed deeply.
“You saved us. And… I think I know what to do now.”
What should I say back?
Part of me wanted to say something cool, but I didn’t have the talent for it.
“Just doing what needs to be done.”
“No. None of this had anything to do with you. Not even that fight earlier…”
Maybe silence was best here?
No.
I’d give him something in return.
One of the things the [Humanist] always said when helping others:
“If you ignore someone in crisis, no one will help you when you’re in crisis.”
“……”
“So saving others is saving yourself.”
“……”
“—Or so someone once said.”
“That a proverb or something?”
“A saying. One someone repeated for seven years without fail.”
“Sounds like a good person.”
“Yeah. They were.”
A faint smile escaped me.
