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Jeondohyeong, who had left saying he would tell a story, returned later than expected, and the combat cart arrived earlier than expected.

In the dim evening, Jeondohyeong, who had left empty-handed, returned pulling two strange carts. Shopping carts with car hoods and doors cut and welded together.

“These days, it’s hard to get custom orders, so they just gave me some leftovers.”

People who were eating dinner at the villa came out and looked at Jeondohyeong and the carts. Words of admiration mixed with ambiguity flowed out.

“It looks sturdy, but the shape is a bit…”

“What did these people make?”

They used iron plates from various cars, creating a colorful appearance. The edges of the iron plates didn’t fit perfectly, sticking out unevenly from the cart and the plates.

Additionally, the front iron plate was covered with nails, giving off a menacing vibe.

That part was fine. It was full of apocalyptic atmosphere, which was good. The problem was that it seemed like a test piece, so it was incomplete.

“They only covered the outside with iron plates.”

I walked around the cart, checking the shape precisely. Large iron plates were only attached to the front and sides.

There was no cover for the cart. No iron plates to protect people. The iron plates on the sides stuck out, protecting the thighs and waist, but that was it. The upper body and rear were completely exposed.

Jeondohyeong shrugged his shoulders.

“It’s free, after all.”

That’s true. We got it for free, so we can’t complain. We’ll have to modify it ourselves.

As we were talking, Sajihyeok suddenly asked a question.

“Nothing in the world is free. Isn’t there some other purpose?”

“Oh, there is something. They said to help them out if they ever need to use guns later.”

Just a verbal promise. This is a good enough deal. We can always refuse later if the situation changes.

Apart from that, seeing them make such offers suggests there’s considerable conflict within the alliance. The police, armed with firearms, are too powerful, and it feels like the Hope Community is trying to pull us in for firepower.

Even though we’re few in number, our firepower is significant.

I tapped the shopping cart and looked around.

“Anyone here who can modify it? One for a machine gun mount, and the other needs a cover.”

People looked at each other blankly. Sajihyeok naturally took a step back, and Park Yang-gun and the mercenaries shook their heads.

They don’t know how to make things. If they had any skills, they wouldn’t be doing dangerous jobs like mercenaries. They would have joined the alliance.

It was already expected. I sighed with a mix of pride and regret.

‘This is what pillagers are like. What can they make?’

Their job is to take what others have made.

Then, Jeondohyeong quietly raised his hand.

“Should I try? I have some tools from the old man’s house, so I think I can make something, even if it’s crude.”

I looked at Jeondohyeong quietly. Maybe it’s because he’s been camping. He seems to know how to make things on the fly. Or maybe he just likes doing that.

Anyway, there’s nothing to lose by letting him try. I patted Jeondohyeong on the shoulder.

“Alright, give it a shot.”

And so, Jeondohyeong started modifying the cart.

He laid out hammers, saws, screwdrivers, nails, ropes, cable ties, and screws from the old man’s house on the road, disassembling and cutting unused desks and bookshelves.

***

A full day passed. Jeondohyeong finished modifying the cart. He might have stayed up all night, as he looked at me with bloodshot eyes.

“I managed to make something, at least.”

“Wow.”

I admired the cart, which was now covered with various additions. It looked quite decent.

A wooden board, roughly the right size, was placed on top of the transport cart like a lid. When I opened it, I saw they had used hinges from a door.

The combat cart was a bit more complicated. First, bulletproof vests were attached. There was also a shelf for mounting a machine gun, and iron desk legs were attached and tied to the rear of the cart.

Those legs were also covered with military bulletproof vests. The vests were put on upside down, so the machine gun’s trigger could be inserted through the collar.

It was very crude, and if you shook the desk legs, it rattled, but it was decent enough.

“You did a good job. You have some skills, huh?”

“I just made it somehow.”

Jeondohyeong yawned loudly and turned his body.

“I’m going to sleep now.”

“Alright, good job.”

If you work, you need to rest. Leaving Jeondohyeong behind, I mounted the machine gun on the combat cart and adjusted it slightly. Can it be used properly?

Dragging the cart along the dirt-covered road for a while.

‘It doesn’t protect the head, but you can crouch. If you move and stop abruptly, the machine gun might slip.’

This works. This is good. I pointed at the mercenaries who hadn’t participated in dealing with the old man.

“Let’s get to work.”

“That gang of punks? Are we going to deal with them?”

“Yes. We made the weapon, so we need to test it.”

The mercenaries immediately ran into the building.

“We’ll get armed and come back.”

***

The behavior of pillagers is similar.

When food runs out, they pillage. They survive on the food they pillage. When it runs out, they pillage again.

The small survivor group, our next target, was similar. They survive on their resources, and when the resources run low, they come out.

I scratched my head while listening to the member’s father.

“So, they came out yesterday, did some scavenging and pillaging, and now they’re holed up in their hideout?”

“Yes. They didn’t run away. Everyone hid your information…”

Meaning that the small survivor group wants to kill us, and they’ve hidden our Immortal information. At best, they only know that the old man died.

An imbalance of information perfect for a preemptive strike or ambush.

I smiled as I pushed the combat cart, which the member’s father was glancing at. A scenario was forming in my head. A scenario to maximize the machine gun’s firepower.

“Anyone good at shooting? Someone who can accurately hit a window.”

“I was a sharpshooter in the military.”

“I can hit a window anytime.”

Some mercenaries confidently spoke up. I nodded and pulled out a map from my pocket.

“This is their villa. I’ll be at the main gate entrance, and the other mercenaries will split into two groups and wait on the left and right flanks. You two, go into the opposite building and snipe their hideout.”

“It’s a drive hunt.”

They’re mercenaries, after all. They understood the tactic. They can’t make things, but they’re good at fighting.

“Let’s push back anyone who tries to escape with firepower.”

We need to create a favorable battlefield. If we can’t create a favorable battlefield, no matter how well-armed we are, there’s a risk of death.

The mercenaries divided themselves into groups, and we briskly walked to their hideout.

Mounting the machine gun on the cart made my body feel light. We arrived quickly.

An old, dilapidated villa building.

Like any other building in the apocalypse, there were many broken windows, and the surroundings were messy. There were crudely made barricades and garbage bags scattered around.

“We’ll move now.”

“Yes. The sniper shot will signal the start of the operation.”

The two groups on the flanks left first, and the two snipers took the last turn. I pulled the cart to a suitable position.

A spot where the villa’s front was visible, but the combat cart blended naturally among the cars. Among the scrap metal on the street, it didn’t stand out much.

I tapped the cart’s handle with my finger, waiting for the signal.

‘I hope it goes well.’

No matter how hard you plan, variables always arise. It’s important to respond well to them.

And then, a gunshot rang out. Bang, the echoing gunshot.

The battle has begun.

I quickly hooked my finger on the machine gun’s trigger and lay flat. I rolled my eyes, peeking through the gaps under the cart and the car.

If they come out, I’ll shoot at their feet.

Soon, noisy sounds came. Rough curses and the sound of running feet. Not from the main gate entrance, but from the first-floor apartment window.

Thud.

I slightly twisted the cart aimed at the entrance. My gloved palms were sticky with sweat. If I see them, I’ll shoot.

“Who the hell is it!”

Through the narrow gap, I saw someone’s feet stepping on the ground. The feet ran busily, followed by three more pairs of feet hitting the ground.

Now.

I pulled the trigger and kept it pressed. To shoot evenly, I twisted the cart sharply. The cart vibrated incessantly, and the deafening gunfire poured like rain.

The whole world was filled with gunfire. I couldn’t even hear screams.

How many seconds had passed? I released the trigger.

“Are they all dead?”

My voice sounded muffled. My ears were ringing from the gunfire. I crawled on the ground, checking the bodies through the gaps under the car.

I couldn’t see well, but four bodies were lying there. Blood was slowly spreading. Even in the muffled world, short gunshots were heard. It seemed like they were engaging with those who escaped to the flanks, but I couldn’t tell if it was pistol or rifle fire.

“I really need earplugs.”

I flicked my finger near my ear and quietly got up.

At the same time, gunfire poured down. One of the humans who had fallen under the machine gun fire. A human with a few holes in his torso was flailing his arm, shooting a pistol at me.

“You too, die!”

“No. What are you doing? Wasting bullets. Just die quietly.”

I grumbled and quickly sat down. Gunfire rang out, and I held onto the cart as it jerked back. The bulletproof performance was excellent. Thanks to the bulletproof vests attached outside, bullets didn’t penetrate the car body or the cart.

I folded one finger for each gunshot. The pistol’s magazine holds six bullets.

‘One, two, three, four, five, six. No, did you waste six bullets?’

Bullets are hard to come by.

As soon as the gunfire stopped, I pulled out my pistol and pushed the combat cart forward. Then I shot the guy who was still breathing.

“The front is roughly cleared.”

I used the cart as cover, crouched down, and knocked on their heads. Soon, other mercenaries returned one by one. They held guns and blood-stained knives.

“We finished the confirmation kills.”

“Good job. How many did you kill?”

The mercenaries reported one by one. Left side: none. Right side: two. Rear: none.

I killed four with the machine gun. Total of six? I turned to look at the member’s father.

“Are these six the right ones?”

“The people moving around change, so I’m not sure… I’ll check the faces of the bodies.”

He was tense, stiffly moving his joints as he awkwardly walked around. Then he hurriedly ran back.

“Two! Two are missing! I don’t recognize these faces!”

“Ah.”

This complicates things.

The mercenaries and I looked up at the old villa in confusion. The old, dilapidated building suddenly looked like a high fortress and a deep maze.

Five floors with two units each. That means ten units. Two people armed with pistols are hiding in there.

I muttered to myself without realizing.

“Urban warfare is really not it.”

The risk is too high. Close-quarters combat in that concrete fortress? It doesn’t make sense. Our armed advantage is severely weakened.

I looked down at the combat cart. The rear is wide open, which is a bit of a problem.

A mercenary holding a gun aimed at the window and asked.

“What do we do now?”

“…Let’s start with a cremation. Pile up the bodies.”

There’s no other choice. We’ll lure them out with threats and persuasion. There are plenty of things to threaten them with. Pushing zombies into the building, arson, imprisonment. Persuasion is simple too. If we spare their lives, that’s a gift, right? We’ll kill them if they come out, though.

 

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