Rebirth Church.

For a Newskin character running an evil meta, they weren’t an issue—if anything, they were practically an ally.

A cult of lunatics who believed the corrupt old world had been cleansed by divine “punishment from the sky,” and that the Newskins, reborn in destruction, were the chosen ones of their god.

They sacrificed people. Kept them as livestock.

And sometimes, they ate them.

“You’re telling me we got tangled up with them?!”

“Unluckiest of the unlucky. And if that guy called you a ‘sacrifice’…”

I hoped I was overreacting.

But given that I had the kind of skin they treated as disposable slaves…

Might as well build some endurance. I grabbed the heaviest-looking bag, trying to lift it—

“Careful.”

A firm grip steadied me as I staggered—Curtis.

His usual easygoing expression was gone, his ears subtly twitching as he scanned the surroundings.

“That bag’s got important stuff. Give it to James.”

“I’ll take it. Most of it is family belongings…”

“You carry Sarah’s.”

A bag nearly the size of a person.

Honestly, I wanted to leave it behind.

But if it was their family’s belongings, I had no choice.

No point in starting off on bad terms.

“Hold on…”

A wallet?

Probably a small photo album filled with old memories.

“It’s fine. Think you can lift it?”

…Barely—

“Careful, careful. Come on, aren’t you a man? You can’t lift twenty kilos?”

“Ughhh…”

Damn it. If I weren’t a Crafter, my strength wouldn’t be this pathetic.

My legs were shaking.

Damn nerfs.

“It’s fine. Yeah. I can move.”

“You sure you won’t fall behind?”

“Of course…”

Carrying weight was one of the best ways to train strength and endurance.

In the game, you could just mash the movement keys in a tiny 1x1 room, but that was patched out ages ago.

“Alright. Sarah, lead the way. Stay sharp.”

“Stay low, be careful. Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it a million times.”

Without even turning on a flashlight, Sarah disappeared into the darkness.

The other two… weren’t turning theirs on either.

“…How’s your night vision?”

“Probably nonexistent.”

A trait you either had naturally or had to develop.

Either through long-term night activity, consistently good nutrition, or supplements.

Without any of those, it was impossible to get.

“Then stick close behind James. Tsk. Weak, no night vision… What is this monkey we picked up…”

“Well, at least he knows things.”

“Yellow ones tend to be like that. Smart. Remember Wang, who used to run the laundromat? Where’d his son go to college again? California?”

“Stanford. Now, let’s cut the chatter.”

They started moving slowly. I forced my legs to follow.

Meanwhile, my mind raced.

First, I had to hope I was just being paranoid.

Once we found a new shelter, I’d ask Sarah or James to cover me while I went back.

If there were Rebirth Church markers, I had to erase them.

They weren’t too hard to spot, so removing them wouldn’t be an issue.

Unless there was an ambush.

If I didn’t remove them, the cult would eventually find this place, attack, and either kill or capture everyone.

If we had a doctor or a solid stash of medical supplies, I could try baiting them into a trap.

But baiting them was always risky.

If I could just unlock my crafting kit… I could build an endless number of traps.

But this damn tutorial.

This was a headache—

“Ugh!?”

“Shh.”

A huge, hairy hand caught me as I stumbled forward.

Why did we stop?

Something tapped against my ear—James’s fingers.

I blinked in confusion.

Damn it. I can’t see anything.

“…Grrggh…”

Ah.

That sound.

That familiar, wet sound.

A zombie’s throat, gurgling with spit, mucus, blood, stomach acid… whatever else was still inside.

And the footsteps…

It was coming this way.

—Shuffle, shuffle.

A few subtle movements. Then, James gently pushed me forward, guiding me.

I didn’t know where I was going, only that I was moving in the direction his hand urged me.

How long had we walked?

“Sarah.”

“I’m here.”

“…Good. This should be safe.”

As the light flicked on, the sudden brightness forced my eyes shut.

James hung an oil lantern onto a metal frame, scanning the surroundings.

“Clear. Nothing followed us, and no unusual sounds.”

“Getting used to the headset?”

“Yeah. It’s… better than nothing.”

I dropped my heavy load, kneading the stiffness out of my muscles.

The second I fell asleep, the muscle pain debuff would hit hard.

If I needed to do anything, now was the time.

“Would one of you be willing to cover me for a moment?”

“Something wrong?”

“…I hope not.”

“I’ll go.”

Curtis stood, breaking open his shotgun to check the shells.

James, meanwhile, set down his bag, stacking it in the corner before checking the chamber of his rifle.

“Watch over Sarah and our supplies, kid. Shouldn’t be too dangerous.”

Sarah pumped her shotgun, loading one in the chamber and five in the tube before tossing it to me.

“Better than nothing.”

“…You trust me with this?”

“After running into that bastard, we’ve been seeing way more zombies than usual. Even earlier, the moment we tried to leave, there just happened to be a horde passing by.”

Zombies being funneled into the bunker.

Which meant Newskins.

Specifically, Rebirth Church agents working behind the scenes.

The ones outside weren’t too dangerous—blind, broken-limbed, barely functional.

The real problem was how they used them.

“What are we looking for?”

“Markers. Small totems made of twigs or rat bones.”

“Tch. Damn cultists.”

“What should we do in the meantime?”

“Leave the door open. If the noise suddenly stops… or if you hear something loud, be ready. And don’t trust anyone with red skin.”

“…Red skin?”

“You’ll know when you see it.”

At least I knew how to shoot, thanks to my time in the military.

I just hoped my Crafter stats didn’t tank my accuracy too.

“Have you fired a gun before?”

“Korea has conscription. As long as your body and mind are in decent condition, you have to go through at least a year and a half of training.”

Fortunately, my body still responded properly.

My aim aligned exactly where I wanted—

Wait.

That shadow in the light.

No way.

“Whoa, whoa, lower your gun! No need to—”

I shoved James out of the way and immediately aimed at Sarah.

Her expression twisted in confusion, but before Curtis could turn his shotgun on me, I shouted—

“Get down!”

Sure enough.

Eight thick, black legs.

Six crimson-red eyes.

A giant spider.

—BOOM.

A shrill screech followed as the shell buried itself in thick chitin, failing to pierce through but still splattering green fluid.

“Sarah, move!”

James’s rifle flashed as a shot rang out.

Another deafening blast erupted from my left—Curtis’s shotgun.

“Screeeech!”

“Fall back!”

Three, maybe four visible.

And bullets wouldn’t work. Their hardened shells could even withstand rifle rounds.

“Do we have anything with more penetration? Slugs? Armor-piercing rounds?”

“What kind of magic bullets do you think we have?! Sarah, move!”

“I-I… ngh…”

Shit.

She was limping.

I flashed my light toward her leg—two round, swollen wounds, tinged blue.

She must’ve been bitten when she ducked earlier.

“Sarah!”

Before we could escape the room, I glanced around.

A bunker this empty… it must’ve been in the middle of construction.

Which meant—

Yes. There.

A hollow steel pipe.

“What the hell are you waiting for?! James, drop the bag and carry Sarah!”

“Hyunwoo, cover—wait, what are you—?”

“Just keep them off me!”

I dropped my shotgun, jamming the metal rod under that disgusting, eight-eyed face.

Their tough shells made them sluggish.

They only leapt when they had to, burning energy in a desperate pounce.

“Screech!?”

Bracing my foot against the ground, I flipped it onto its back.

There—soft, exposed flesh.

The heat vents hidden beneath their monstrous bulk.

“Shoot!”

Before James could lift his rifle with one arm, Curtis had already fired.

A wet, meaty pop filled the air as green blood exploded outward, splattering over the others.

The spiders hesitated.

Good.

Assists still counted as kills, after all.

If I got bit, I’d be out for at least two to five days, depending on the venom.

“Hyunwoo flips, I shoot. James!”

“Breathe, Sarah, breathe!”

The venom wasn’t lethal.

As long as her airway stayed open.

“Sarah!”

I hooked another one’s leg, sending it crashing onto its back.

Green fluid smeared across the walls and my makeshift weapon.

Three down.

The others hesitated, then turned to flee.

“Oh, hell no.”

I didn’t know if I was getting stronger or just angrier.

Either way, I managed to flip another one.

“Die!”

Their upper shells were too strong, but underneath—

Even a dull steel rod could tear right through.

I ripped into its soft flesh, finishing it off just as the others scurried away.

…That was too many.

If we’d kept moving forward, we would’ve walked straight into their nest.

“We done?”

“For now.”

No doubt about it.

This family had been marked as prey.

Either that, or they just had terrible luck.

Like me.

“Sarah, come on, open your eyes, kid.”

“Calm down. Let me check her.”

She wasn’t unconscious.

She was trying to breathe, mouth opening desperately.

I flashed a light over her pupils. Slow, but reactive.

“Hhhkk… hhk… hkk…”

“Sarah, slow breaths. You’re not going to die. Unless you have a severe allergy, those things like their prey alive.”

“How the hell did we not notice them coming?”

“Their legs are soft. They can silence their movements when hunting. And they’re slow.”

“Goddamn it…”

There were anti-venoms.

Medical wings, abandoned supply crates, sometimes even basic aid kits had them.

The problem was, Sarah didn’t look great.

Her leg was swelling fast, and her previously fair skin was burning red.

“Her breathing’s slowing—shit, I’m gonna go find—”

“…Epinephrine. Epinephrine. Dad, the first aid kit!”

“I already got it!”

A photo album, silverware, canned food, sleeping bags—one by one, he tossed them aside before finally pulling out a small, rectangular case.

I tore it open, yanking out a pen injector.

A stimulant.

“Here.”

I jammed the orange tip into Sarah’s thigh, pressing hard.

Her shivering slowed.

The swelling faded.

Her ragged breaths steadied.

“...Shit. Shit.”

“James? Sarah?”

“She’s okay. Thank God.”

She was okay for now.

But after paralysis came exhaustion.

The stimulant had neutralized the venom’s effect, but unless we found an actual cure, it was going to come back.

And with the cult tracking us down, we couldn’t keep running.

Which meant—

“I need you both to do something for me.”

I couldn’t just coast through the tutorial anymore.

I had to finish it.

Which meant hunting the armored bastard at the end.

I had to kill the Hammerhead.

Before the Newskins came to rip the flesh from our bones.