Marauder of the Apocalypse-Chapter 95: End of Summer

After our business discussions, the family went home. They agreed to join us on the day of our operation. They'd guide us, and receive their fair share on the spot.

The mercenaries exchanged glances before lowering their guns and asking me:

"Um... The beginning part sounds fine, but won't we end up working for free later on?"

A typical question from mercenaries concerned about profit. Since they were doing rough work to survive, they seemed worried there'd be nothing left for them once member incentives reached several dozen percent. frёewebnoѵel.ƈo๓

It was a trivial concern. A solution immediately crossed my mind.

'If we're giving away too much, we could just kill them and take everything back.'

That approach would work in a world where might makes right.

But it wasn't the most elegant solution, and Sa Gi-hyeok had thought of something more sophisticated. After the family left, he leaned against the wall tiredly and waved his hand with a smile.

"Haha. That's naive thinking. Offers that sound too good are usually poisoned."

Honestly, our offer was excessively generous. We'd kill their enemies. We'd share the resources taken from those enemies. Even contract killers just killed for money; they didn't operate like this.

Sa Gi-hyeok pointed at the guns.

"There are no laws, no police. The people reporting to us are weaker than us, and they can't do anything if we change the terms."

"Conman..."

Do-hyung grimaced and turned away. The mercenaries fidgeted with their guns as reality sank in. Words meant nothing in this world.

In a way, this world was too easy for someone like Sa Gi-hyeok. There was no need for elaborate deceptions or maintaining trust over time.

Sa Gi-hyeok lowered his gun and continued.

"Of course, I consider this a real business and have structured it carefully. We just need to increase our membership numbers. Ultimately, we decide which reports to act on and in what order."

When Sa Gi-hyeok said he considered it a business, he actually meant it was a scam, and in reality, it was.

We'd recruit members in this area. Then prioritize reports from lower-ranked members—only the ones where we could take the largest cut.

We could change the order of reports, or when multiple members reported the same target, prioritize lower-ranked members.

It was structured so high-ranked members could never emerge.

"There are plenty of word games too. Reducing incentives for distant locations like delivery fees, cutting shares because report information wasn't accurate enough, charging medical expenses against incentives if we get injured... The tricks are endless."

People looked at Sa Gi-hyeok with admiration. I did too.

'It's not so bad that people will completely lose hope and turn away. We can steadily use them as informants to find raiding targets.'

In other words, we'd use the members as hunting dogs. Once they'd tasted meat, they'd constantly search for prey.

At that point, Do-hyung objected.

"Doesn't this have limitations? Once we've killed everyone in the area, there won't be anyone left to report."

"That's how scams work. When there's nothing left to squeeze, you start fresh somewhere else with different targets."

"Ah."

The goals differed from normal business. We weren't trying to properly run a business entity and maintain it continuously. That was more the alliance's style.

As Raiders of the Apocalypse, we were closer to nomads, so Sa Gi-hyeok's approach was more fitting.

Now I understood Sa Gi-hyeok's concept. I clapped and praised him.

"You came up with all this in half a day? Impressive. Professionals really are different."

Following my lead, the mercenaries also expressed their admiration for Sa Gi-hyeok.

Amid the applause, Sa Gi-hyeok shrugged. Though his eyes darkened, his voice remained cheerful and full of satisfaction.

"Hahaha. This is easy. You can leave any mental work to me. ...Oh, right. I forgot to mention the most important part."

We stopped clapping. Though Sa Gi-hyeok spoke in his usual bland manner, everyone paid close attention.

"The most crucial part of any scam is the exit strategy. Taking the money and escaping safely. I've thought of two approaches."

"Two approaches?"

I asked, holding up two fingers. Sa Gi-hyeok nodded.

"Yes. You'll need to choose, Da-in. What to do when eventually there's no one left in this area who isn't a member."

He explained further.

The first was a long-term strategy. Continue using members as hunting dogs. Plant them in other areas as inside enemies.

As informants or infiltrators.

"This means actually accepting high-ranked members into our group. It shouldn't be too difficult. They've tasted success."

"And the other method?"

"It's simple."

Sa Gi-hyeok looked around at us with an indecipherable gleam in his eyes, then suddenly pointed his gun at us. Everyone jumped up in panic.

"What are you doing!"

"Not this again!"

Over the commotion, Sa Gi-hyeok spoke in a clear voice.

"We make the members kill each other. There's no rule against members reporting other members."

I understood what he meant.

"And when only a few members are left, we kill them ourselves?"

"Yes. This would be easier than the first method. In a world where you must kill others to survive..."

Sa Gi-hyeok's voice lowered. I considered briefly which method was better. But the deliberation quickly faded.

"That's still far off. Let's decide when the time comes."

Long-term plans rarely proceeded as intended. We couldn't predict what accidents might occur with this scheme either. Sa Gi-hyeok's concept was already a script; all that remained was adapting in the field.

Sa Gi-hyeok responded with apparent confusion.

"Even if it's far off, it's only a matter of months. It might progress rapidly. You should decide now."

"No. That's plenty of time."

Sa Gi-hyeok's sense of time differed from mine. Months? Even a month was excessively long. Long enough for plans to easily fall apart.

'Even day-long plans fail. Forget it.'

Rather than wasting time, it was better to script how to kill the elderly landlord. Or manage the mercenaries.

I looked around at them.

"We still have some days before the landlord comes to the stream. Before that, I wanted to ask if any of you would consider relocating?"

"Relocating?"

The mercenaries blinked in confusion.

"Wouldn't it be better if people from the same organization lived together? We could take shifts keeping watch, protect our homes better. Though electricity is out, we have water tanks so you can shower. Gas still works too."

It was time to bring people into our villa district.

The mercenaries considered briefly, then agreed to the proposal.

"Well, we've fought together against soldiers. No reason not to trust each other."

"It seems better than where my family is living now. We'll move."

The mercenaries' relocation wasn't my concern. I didn't pay much attention, but it happened quickly. They didn't have much to begin with. Some carried boxes, others pushed shopping carts.

Few came alone; most brought family. Some brought only their children, others came with spouses, or just one parent.

These were families that had survived the apocalyptic wave. Those who came alone might have lost their families entirely.

By the time they had settled into the villa district, the day of our operation arrived. Not all mercenaries needed to come, so only a few left their families at the villa.

"We'll be back soon."

"Behave yourselves."

At the entrance, armed mercenaries said goodbye to their families, who came out to wave them off. Park Yang-gun watched them quietly before turning away.

His thoughts were hard to guess, but if I had to speculate, everyone found comfort in seeing others suffer the same risk of losing family.

I clapped my hands energetically.

"Everyone, let's go do rewarding work. It's neither dangerous nor difficult, right?"

"Yes."

We walked diligently back to the stream. It was still returning to its natural state, but this time there were quite a few people.

Despite it being midday when people were usually scarce, several people had gathered around a fallen streetlight on the walking path. Quite a number of them.

Our first member, the mother, was waiting alone at the entrance to the stairs leading down to the walkway. When she spotted us, she raised her hand.

"Over here. And that's him over there."

The mother pointed directly at an elderly man. He sat on a fallen streetlight, thin as a rail. His face, visible above his mask, was flushed as if he'd had a drink.

"It really is a shotgun."

I muttered. The shotgun resting on the old man's knees. A fairly decent prize. More firearms were always better.

"It's a real gun. I've seen him shoot it."

"I hope it has plenty of ammunition."

I spoke without tension, and the mercenaries focused on profits rather than risks.

"How will we divide that gun? And the ammo?"

"I'll dismantle it and divide it equally by parts. ...Just kidding. We'll stockpile the weapon, and if someone's gun breaks, they can buy it. We'll divide the proceeds."

While discussing this, the mother stamped her feet impatiently.

"I told you it's a real gun! And why did so few of you come? Not everyone I saw last time is here."

I stared silently at our member. Meeting my unwavering gaze, she gradually stiffened. I patted her shoulder reassuringly.

"Member. What's so difficult about killing one person that we'd need to come in a crowd? I could kill him by myself."

I brought these mercenaries to carry the loot.

"...By yourself?"

Our member's eyes fluttered with confusion, but that wasn't my concern. I handed my light machine gun to the mercenaries.

"Support me if things go wrong."

"Isn't that dangerous? He has a gun too. Wouldn't it be better if a few more people went with you..."

A mercenary tried to stop me. But I waved dismissively.

"It's fine. I'll handle this myself. Besides, having more people would only make him suspicious."

This wasn't about taking the most dangerous task as the group's leader. It was about not letting anyone steal the most enjoyable part.

Besides, the standard approach was to make them lower their guard before killing them.

I proceeded down the path, keeping my eyes on the old man.

'They said he collects usage fees every few days. If you don't pay, he visits at night and throws flashlights to attract zombies.'

Several people had tried to kill him but ended up killed by him instead.

Because of this, people in the area had reached the point of monitoring and reporting on each other. If you don't pay stream fees, none of us can use the water, they'd say.

He was quite a cunning raider.

The people gathered around the old man showed no signs of discontent as they meekly offered their fees.

"I found this soju with great difficulty."

"Good, next."

I naturally blended into the crowd. Under the gaze of people noticing an unfamiliar face, I timidly bowed my head. Step by step, I approached the old man.

A nervous voice emerged from my lips.

"Ah, hello. I'm Da-in, just moved to this area. I heard we need to pay for water..."

"What? I can't hear you! Speak up!"

No, he heard me. His eyes gleamed with malice, and the people around responded as if this was his usual behavior. He'd been conversing just fine until I arrived.

He was just bullying people.

I looked around as if flustered, then meekly raised my voice, and the old man responded the same way.

"HELLO! MY NAME IS—"

"Still can't hear you. LOUDER!"

Perfect. Thanks to him, I could naturally close the distance. I cupped my hands around my mouth like a megaphone and approached as if about to shout directly into his ear.

At this point, if I yelled, he'd probably get angry and ask if I was trying to burst his eardrum. His eyes suggested as much.

I glanced at the shotgun resting on his knees, then whispered in his ear.

"Die. Die now."

I stepped on the shotgun and his knee with my foot while drawing my pistol and pulling the trigger. Point-blank range. The gun barrel touched his head.

Bang, the gunshot rang out. The old man collapsed sideways. Blood flowed.

I calmly picked up the shotgun first. Then I turned to find our member.

"Member, I've handled it as requested. Now please guide us to his home. Of course, you'll receive 10 percent of this old man's resources."