Marauder of the Apocalypse-Chapter 88: Urban Warfare

"Help me!"

The mercenary covered in shrapnel rolled across the floor. I watched him quietly. Either he hadn't counted down properly, or he'd been hit by a soldier's bullet, but the bomb had exploded right after he threw it through the window.

Despite the bomb detonating at close range and shrapnel embedded in him like a dart board, the mercenary hadn't died instantly.

Even without proper protective gear.

'The soldiers must be even better off.'

Just considering their bulletproof helmets, their heads would be safe. The bags needed to explode at the height of a soldier's torso or legs to cause any real damage.

Outside the window, explosions and gunfire continued. I could hear what sounded like a squad leader and radio communications.

"Third squad, what are you doing! Cover us!"

"Take cover! Take cover!"

I peeked out the window briefly, then immediately ducked down. The scene burned into my brain like a photograph.

The numerous explosions had wounded many of them. Some had collapsed right on the street, while others limped, staggered, bled, and sought cover.

Some took cover behind cars, others moved to buildings opposite our shopping area.

They stuck out their gun barrels like porcupine quills and fired sporadically.

Bang, bang, bullets punched through the shattered windows and hit the ceiling above us. Ricocheting bullets, concrete dust, and broken fluorescent light fragments fell like snow. Some tracer rounds drew beautiful lines through the air.

I thought calmly.

"What about the poison's effect?"

"What?"

Sa Gi-hyeok asked. The explosions and gunfire seemed to have rattled him; his face was drenched in cold sweat and his hands trembled.

He wasn't helping. Actually, the whole atmosphere was like this. These were survivors who had served in the military, thrown grenades, and killed people in the apocalypse, yet even the mercenaries seemed to be panicking.

One mercenary clutched a bag of explosives like a pillow, another recklessly threw boxes, Do-hyung just stuck his pistol out the window and pulled the trigger, and Park Yang-gun moved toward the opposite window like someone trying to escape.

Park Yang-gun glanced outside the opposite window, then hurried back to me.

"Another squad is entering through the first-floor windows on the other side!"

"Let them come!"

While the second squad was under attack, the third squad had flanked around and entered our building from the opposite side. This was no problem.

We'd installed explosives that detonated when opened on the stairs too. We could block their approach. In fact, shouts came from the stairwell.

"There are explosives stacked here! Can't proceed!"

The third squad climbing the stairs must have seen the barricade of boxes we'd created.

To check the poison's effectiveness, I examined the mercenary covered in shrapnel. The mercenary, who had been screaming in agony, had died in an oddly stiffened posture.

It worked. The gunfire outside had stopped too.

We just needed to drive out the third squad that had entered the building. I signaled to my companions who still had their wits about them.

"Let's prepare to fight, just in case."

"Wouldn't it be better to run?"

Park Yang-gun looked outside while shifting from foot to foot. Being a thief, he probably disliked this kind of combat.

I shook my head.

"We need to steal their guns."

Wasn't that why we were risking our lives doing this—to get rifles or light machine guns?

Plus, I needed to rally these mercenaries. Putting guns in their hands would help them trust me.

Even with the world filled with gunfire, screams, and explosions, strangely, everything seemed crystal clear to me. My heart pounded loudly.

'This is what raiding is all about. I've been playing it too safe.'

The greater the risk, the greater the reward. And greater rewards enable you to take on even greater risks. The virtuous cycle of raiding.

At that moment, we heard voices. The third squad.

"Shopping building, enemies armed with explosives! Unknown number of personnel, and no idea how many explosives are in the building!"

Crackle, static.

The radio communication was difficult to make out. There was too much noise mixed in, and my ears felt muffled.

I could only hear the squad leader's voice.

"Copy that! ...We're retreating!"

***

Silence settled in. Gradually my hearing returned, and I could make out smaller sounds. The retreating sound of combat boots, the groans of mercenaries, ragged breathing.

I crouched under the window with my hands clasped together. Was it really over just like that?

'With only one squad remaining, retreating makes sense.'

They couldn't determine our numbers or armaments inside the building, nor how many explosive traps were installed.

Since their goal was food looting rather than clearing the building or securing it, they seemed unwilling to take unnecessary risks.

But would they really retreat like this?

I squeezed my fingers until they turned white as I thought through the possibilities. Then I spoke to Park Yang-gun.

"Please confirm which way they're retreating. They might set up an ambush to attack us on our way out."

They hadn't used grenades. Their guns had longer range. They could be hiding in nearby buildings, waiting for us to emerge.

They'd know we'd try to retrieve their weapons, so if they just waited for that moment...

But Park Yang-gun stood by the shattered window looking down at the squad, then quickly ducked.

Bang, bang, gunshots and several bullets hit the ceiling at an angle. Park Yang-gun reported:

"They're retreating. Keeping their guns pointed at us."

"Hey. Let's just ask for drone surveillance. We don't need to look ourselves."

Do-hyung, who had turned pale, approached and spoke in a low voice. It wasn't a bad suggestion.

I immediately took the radio and made the request. Since the general hospital was far away, it would take some time for the communications team to relay our request upward.

"As soon as we get drone news, let's collect the weapons."

The shell-shocked mercenaries barely responded. They just sat there blankly. They really couldn't compare to my actual raider companions.

At that moment, I heard the sound of someone slapping someone else's face.

Do-hyung was hitting Sa Gi-hyeok, trying to snap him out of it. He waved two fingers in front of Sa Gi-hyeok's dilated pupils.

"Are you okay? Are you okay? How many fingers am I holding up?"

"People have ten fingers, don't they? Why are you asking something so obvious? Did you not know that?"

"No, I was just worried for nothing."

Sa Gi-hyeok wiped his face with his palm.

"This is no joke. It's way harder than running a con. I don't think I could ever fight like this again."

The aftereffects of combat were significant. Even though all we did was set up and throw explosives. It made sense, having experienced close-quarter combat.

Honestly, without the explosives, without the element of surprise, we would all have died in that fight. Even so, one mercenary had died by mistake.

I walked around, tapping the mercenaries.

"Come on, smile. We won, didn't we?"

"But the military... they're too strong. We could've all died if anything had gone wrong."

A mercenary who had somewhat regained his composure trembled. He stared at the corpse covered in shrapnel.

I grinned.

"Now we become that military. We'll use their guns, their helmets. Why should we be afraid? We'll become what others fear."

Just then, we received a response. The squad was indeed retreating.

I clapped my hands.

"Let's go."

The mercenaries sluggishly got to their feet.

***

Outside the shopping area was chaos. Shrapnel was everywhere, embedded in cars, and every window that had survived until now was completely shattered.

I surveyed the area and clicked my tongue. Our throws hadn't been accurate. Most of the shrapnel hit the surroundings instead of the soldiers. Some bags hadn't even exploded.

The direct damage to the military was less than I'd expected.

"Body armor?"

Their body armor prevented shrapnel from penetrating their torsos. I checked each soldier's head to confirm they were dead while searching the bodies.

Helmets, body armor. Unlucky soldiers had shrapnel embedded in their faces, fusing their masks to their skin, but most were hit in the arms and legs.

These weren't wounds that would kill so quickly. This was entirely the effect of the poison.

"What the hell did those hospital people give us?"

According to the doctor's calm explanation, it was a cocktail of various poisons. But the soldiers died from wounds to their arms and legs. I couldn't even guess what they'd used.

It was almost suspicious enough to make me wonder if they'd acquired real drugs from somewhere and mixed them in.

"This person's body armor was penetrated."

"Really? That's good."

That meant only the body armor in good condition remained.

We moved quickly, stripping gear from the corpses. I replaced my baseball cap with a bulletproof helmet, put on the best body armor I could find, and slung a heavy light machine gun over my shoulder.

It was heavy and hot enough to kill me. It also seemed to have a strange military smell that was unpleasant.

But I smiled as I looked at the intact magazines and ammunition belts.

I'd finally acquired proper weapons. The kind of armaments that marked me as a raider. With this, combined with the mercenaries, we'd become a decent raider group.

The mercenaries were regaining their composure.

"We don't have enough guns..."

"There should be more dead soldiers in the apartment, so don't worry. I said I'd divide everything fairly, didn't I? We all risked our lives together, so no one should lose out."