Player of a Ruined World - Chapter 71

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Player of the Ruined World – Episode 071
“So what happened?”
Park Sangil swallowed hard and asked.
“If the Zombie King goes berserk… all physical stats become twice the episode limit. It continues until the game ends.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Since I’m currently restricted to physical stats of 60, the Zombie King will have all physical stats rise to 120 the moment he goes berserk.”
“…!”
“And since the Zombie King has Skills too, the difficulty will go absolutely insane the moment he goes berserk.”
The reason the fourth episode was called the Wall of Lamentation.
The reason many players quit the game at the fourth episode.
It seemed that reason was beginning to stem from The Great Dominion back in the second episode.
Park Sangil’s expression went blank, then he shook his head vigorously and asked me.
“Then what are we supposed to do now? Is there no way to stop it?”
“We’d need to know the daughter’s location, but there’s no way to find it. Besides, since the walking dad became a walking mom, it might not even be a daughter.”
“But we can’t just sit here and do nothing like this.”
“Right. We can’t just watch the Zombie King go berserk like this.”
“Is there a method?”
A method….
Truth is, there’s no clear method.
Because this isn’t a game.
It’s reality.
An element that couldn’t be found in the game.
I need to focus on clues that can only be found in reality.
“Even if I don’t know how The Great Dominion created the Zombie King, there’s a method to roughly guess.”
“What is it?”
“You said they tested whether the people who came here could fight zombies.”
“That’s right.”
“Among those who were bitten, there was someone who believed in religion, and among them, someone who yearned for their child’s survival more than their own life likely transformed into the current Zombie King.”
“….”
“A person like that would carry a wallet, a necklace, or at least a family photo on them.”
Then Park Sanghun beside me snapped his fingers and widened his eyes.
“A necklace!”
Looking at Park Sanghun, he explained the characteristics of the Zombie King he’d seen through auditory hallucinations.
“The Zombie King was wearing a necklace.”
“Not just any necklace, but one big enough to hold a photo….”
“Yeah, yeah, that kind of necklace. You know those necklaces you see in movies? Like the one a soldier going to war wears around his neck with his girlfriend’s photo inside.”
“He was wearing that kind of necklace?”
“Yeah, I definitely saw it before he ate me.”
“And a wallet or anything else?”
“I don’t know that much.”
Now that I know the necklace exists, I need to retrieve it.
Park Sangil asked with a troubled expression.
“It’s not like we’re putting a bell around a cat’s neck. How are we supposed to get a necklace off the Zombie King’s neck?”
“I’ll retrieve it.”
“But how? How do you plan to enter The Great Dominion?”
“The man Sanghun controlled earlier got in easily enough.”
“…You’re saying you’ll volunteer as a sacrifice?”
“I’ll pose as a sacrifice to get inside, grab the necklace, check if there’s a wallet, and then escape.”
As I spoke matter-of-factly, Park Sangil scratched his head and wore a sullen expression.
Though reluctant, Park Sangil must also recognize this is the fastest method.
Worried he might insist on coming along, I looked at the group and spoke.
“I’ll go in alone. That way, escape will be easier.”
Then Park Sangha, standing beside Park Sangil, opened his mouth.
“There’s no need to make it so complicated.”
“What?”
“Just pose as a sacrifice, go in, and kill the Zombie King. Isn’t he bound in chains anyway?”
“Brother, if the Zombie King dies, we can’t see the ending.”
“This isn’t a game.”
“What?”
“Who says there can only be one Zombie King?”
I couldn’t close my gaping mouth at Park Sangha’s words.
It’s a sufficiently valid point.
Yes, rather than searching for the offspring of the Zombie King, whose rampage timeline remains unknown, dealing with the current Zombie King and waiting for the next one to emerge could be another approach.
To proceed safely, following Park Sangha’s suggestion was the best option.
Then Elder Chulmin, who had his arms crossed, opened his mouth.
“I agree that Sangha’s approach is realistically the safest method. The problem is we can’t know when, how, or where the next Zombie King will appear.”
“…”
“And if you’re right, when the fourth episode begins, we might have to create a Zombie King that doesn’t yet exist in this world.”
“That’s a possibility as well.”
Ultimately, everything comes down to probability.
As Elder Chulmin said, we can’t know what mission awaits us when the fourth episode begins.
In No Way Home, the fourth episode was titled King of the Zombies.
There was no additional explanation about finding or creating one.
If no Zombie King exists in reality, we might face a mission to create one.
It’s problematic to go out and search for a Zombie King, but if our current concern is correct and we must create one…
Among the Hunting Dog League Members, only one person has a child.
As I unconsciously looked at Park Sangil, he swept his bangs back and sighed.
Park Sangil, understanding the current situation, asked with a conflicted expression.
“So…if I kill the Zombie King at the school, I might have to become the Zombie King in the fourth episode?”
“That’s correct.”
When I answered in a calm voice, Park Sangil snorted and gazed up at the gloomy sky.
“Damn it… This is really frustrating. That bastard Gaia.”
“He hasn’t gone berserk yet, so let’s not think about the worst-case scenario.”
“But we don’t know when he’ll go berserk. It wouldn’t be strange if he went berserk right now.”
“I’ll go in and retrieve the necklace first, then question those so-called Prophets.”
“About what?”
“When the Zombie King was created, where he came from.”
“….”
“If I can find out how the Zombie King joined The Great Dominion when he was human, I can trace where his child is.”
“Do you think they’ll tell you willingly?”
At Park Sangil’s question, I looked toward Park Sanghun.
“Sanghun, what did those Prophets look like?”
“What do you mean, look like?”
“Their eye color. Were they all red like Yun Taeseong?”
“No, the Prophets had normal human eyes. They didn’t have any protective gear or weapons, probably because of the Prophet concept.”
“Then that’s good. They’re not Mutant Zombies.”
I moved the protective gear I was wearing into my inventory and glanced around the rooftop.
There were a few wooden necklaces on the rooftop, so I grabbed one.
So I’d look like an ordinary survivor to anyone watching.
“Everyone wait here. When I escape with the necklace, The Great Dominion members might pursue us, so please snipe anyone who chases us from here.”
As I was about to move, Park Sangha grabbed my arm and spoke.
“No, that’s not necessary.”
“What?”
“Isn’t the goal to threaten the Prophets and find out where the Zombie King came from?”
“That’s right.”
“Then it’s easier to avoid suspicion and more natural if we all become sacrifices together.”
“….”
“What are you going to say going in alone? That you came from Haktong Park like that guy earlier?”
“That’s….”
“Rather than giving a vague answer, it’s better to look like a group of survivors from outside.”
“….”
“Besides, there are four Prophets. It’s realistically impossible for you alone to capture and threaten all of them.”
His words made sense.
Unable to offer any rebuttal, Park Sanghun stretched his stiff neck and spoke this time.
“When we enter the staff room, I’ll take the Prophet on the far left.”
“Then I’ll take the one closest to the entrance.”
When Park Sangil stepped forward too, Elder Chulmin approached with a slight smile.
“Getting excited at my age. Like the Trojan Horse.”
“I-I’ll fight too!”
When Do Sohee stepped forward as well, I scratched my eyebrow and fell into brief thought.
Right, strike while the iron is hot.
If we all go in together and clean up the administrative office… we won’t need to risk a dangerous escape.
As long as no one finds out the Prophet is dead.
“Let’s move.”
We stowed all our equipment in our inventory and each grabbed a wooden club and steel pipe.

* * *
“What’s special about today? How many is this for today?”
“Don’t think they’re from around here?”
“They look unlucky.”
“Hey, leave them be. We won’t be seeing them long anyway.”
These were the words spoken by members of The Great Dominion as they glanced at us while we passed through the second barricade heading toward the first.
I’d heard the second barricade was installed within a 150-meter radius centered on the school, and inside this second barricade alone there were easily a hundred survivors.
No children were visible—only adults in shabby clothing.
People with dark circles beneath their eyes, devoid of any vitality.
The way they looked at us felt strangely disconnected.
Neither welcoming nor wary.
The gaze of those who knew we were sacrifices.
Like watching pigs being dragged to a slaughterhouse—utterly indifferent.
How much further did we walk?
We came upon a 5-meter-high wall installed along the perimeter of the school.
I’d thought the second barricade was sturdy, but the first barricade looked far thicker and more formidable.
“What a blessed day this is.”
The Sentry guiding us spoke with a thin smile.
When I tilted my head in confusion, the Sentry grinned widely and continued.
“With so many sharing our cause, it truly is a blessing.”
“Thank you for welcoming us so warmly. We’re grateful.”
“Of course we must welcome you warmly. In The Great Dominion, we are all brothers and sisters.”
The Sentry kept grinning, then snapped his fingers as if remembering something he’d forgotten.
“Oh right, today happens to be our prayer gathering day.”
Information I’d heard from Park Sanghun before.
But pretending to know nothing, I blinked and asked.
“What’s a prayer gathering?”
“Newcomers receive baptism at the prayer gathering. It signifies becoming one with us.”
“I understand.”
“Do you happen to have a religion?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Then you can become one with us. This way, please.”
We passed through the first barricade and entered the school grounds.
An above-ground parking lot came into view immediately ahead, with stairs placed beside it.
As I climbed the stairs and entered the building, my eyes fell upon the office at the end of the corridor.
“That is the prayer chamber of the Prophets.”
“The Prophets? Are you referring to the four Prophets you mentioned earlier?”
“Yes. They are like beacons who guide and lead all our brothers and sisters.”
When the Sentry knocked on the office door, a low and solemn voice came from within.
“Wait a moment.”
Had they not yet cleaned up the corpse of the man who had gone inside just moments ago?
The Prophets telling us to wait.
About five minutes passed as we waited.
When a voice from inside told us to enter, the Sentry let us in and closed the door.
“Head of Security.”
Then a Prophet called out to the Sentry who had been guiding us until just now.
I had thought he was just an ordinary Sentry, but he was the Head of Security.
As the Head of Security re-entered, the Prophet glanced lightly over our faces and spoke.
“Six blessed ones have come. You and several of the sentries—come join us in prayer.”
Look at how he thinks.
His words are gentle, but essentially he’s saying to call more sentries because there are too many of us—a precaution against danger, isn’t it?
The Head of Security seemed to understand the Prophet’s meaning, smiled contentedly, and bowed his head.
“Understood, Prophet.”
As the Head of Security left to call the other sentries, the Prophet at the front sucked on his long pipe and spoke.
“Where do you come from?”
Like gods from Greek and Roman mythology, the Prophets wore flowing blouses regardless of gender.
“We came from Jamsil.”
Perhaps because of the conversation we had earlier?
In response to the Prophet’s question, the answer “Jamsil” came out.
The Prophet looked at my face with interest, then raised the corners of his eyes and asked.
“Jamsil, you say… Could you tell us about the situation there?”
A manner of speaking as if consumed by a concept.
The situation in Jamsil….
I’m not confident in lying.
“That place has become a world without rules or justice.”
At that moment, Park Sangha beside me opened his mouth.
Whether the Prophet was curious about Jamsil’s story or was simply buying time until the sentries arrived, he continued asking questions.
“A world of disorder… Rules are the will of God, so how dare humans wear such a mask and act thus?”
“That’s why we fled. We heard rumors that there was a place in Gangnam accepting survivors, so we came here, going without sleep for a full day and night.”
Perhaps because he was a writer, Park Sangha fabricated the story without a moment’s hesitation.
The Prophet sucked on his long pipe and examined us carefully.
Then he rose from his seat, walked toward Park Sangha, and lifting his chin with his index finger, asked.
“Your face… doesn’t look like someone who came here going without sleep.”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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