NoveLight ™
───Jalgeurak!
'...Newbie?'
As one battle ended, a heavy silence descended over the shopping mall. The stillness was so deep that even the pounding of one's heart could be heard. The concrete dust that had risen and scattered, and the fragments of sound from the walls breaking, gradually faded, their pitch growing quieter…
Approach was always cautious. Whether the enemy was a Bandit or a user, the same caution applied. No matter how high the level or how many skills a user had unlocked, a single unlucky bullet could pierce their head and send them back to the lobby.
And just a few minutes ago, after a quick, high-magnification check, he saw the enemy was wielding a shotgun.
In that case, the answer was simple—attack from a distance.
"...Hmm."
But the enemy was strangely not giving any clear shooting angles.
They hadn't completely moved from their position. The amplified sound of quiet footsteps through the headset confirmed that the enemy was hiding somewhere about 30 meters away.
However, the noise in between was troubling.
"...!"
Though somewhat filtered through the headset, the unpleasant noise still managed to invade his ears. It sounded like metal clashing—perhaps it was the sound of a nut or bolt being thrown against a metal frame.
Frowning, he readjusted his grip on the gun and tried to focus again. But when such things happened not once, but multiple times, the situation started to feel different. The variables he hadn’t accounted for were gradually expanding their influence.
It felt as though he was being mentally manipulated from start to finish. At nearly level 60, he had already sensed this, but the issue was that he couldn’t figure out the final result of this chain of events.
But then—
───Kwaang!
"That crazy…!"
Among the various noises he’d been hearing, an explosion mixed in, followed by a grenade exploding just 10 meters away. If he hadn’t already trained himself to maintain focus during combat, the shock would’ve made him jump.
Even the person involved had to grit their teeth and endure the surprise.
But in that brief moment, the headset barely caught the sound of footsteps between the explosions. The location was ahead. Quickly, he adjusted his posture and placed his firearm over the cover. Dozens of bullets tore through the silhouette moving at an astonishing speed.
Effective hits... probably none. He swapped out his magazine in an instant and retrieved a grenade from his pouch, rolling it.
It was a tip from the one person he respected the most.
Padeuk!
With a trigger pull, he suppressed fire and pulled back. As the grenade exploded, he retreated from cover. Everyone knew that a shotgun became more dangerous at close range. That’s why the enemy would likely try to close the distance.
A few seconds passed, and the enemy finally began shooting. Bullets flew menacingly, the sound of the heavy impact ringing in his ears. The hits left visible dents on the walls...
'Is that a slug, not a 12-gauge?'
As expected.
A few rounds hit his bulletproof vest, but he wore Class 5 armor, and slugs weren’t good enough to pierce it. They were blocked by the armor every time. When he realized this, a smile crept across his face. It looked like the outcome of the battle was going to be decided easily.
The initiative quickly shifted. Rising, he stared directly ahead. Through his reinforced plastic face shield, he could barely make out the enemy, who had landed a few more hits but still stumbled back while continuing to shoot.
Then, the storm of slugs stopped. That was his cue. He tossed a grenade forward and rushed.
The enemy was likely to close the gap because the shotgun was more dangerous up close. He already knew that much.
As he dashed forward, seconds felt like hours. The distance closed—30 meters, 25 meters, 18 meters—and the battlefield shifted from the outer corridor to the store. The two of them started running erratically and firing—of course, the enemy was dealing with a reloading issue, so it turned into a one-sided exchange.
The distance was too close for him to use another grenade. So, he kept running and stopping, running and stopping. And then, a few seconds later... he felt like he had grabbed the upper hand.
No, he thought he had.
Until the blinding white flash appeared in front of him.
───Puh-eong!
"Aahh…!"
A sudden flashbang.
At the same time, his legs buckled violently. With a notification of a fracture, both his legs quickly became mangled, turning from red to black. The next moment, his face went red, and concussion symptoms began to kick in. The noise of him collapsing to the ground was an added bonus.
Trying to shoot his gun, his hand turned crimson as well. Naturally, a slug couldn’t penetrate his bulletproof vest, but if it hit exposed body parts, the damage was substantial.
His helmet, badly dented and broken, was ripped off, revealing the spinning ceiling, and someone who seemed oddly familiar appeared.
Someone holding just a single MP-155 Ultima, looking shabby in some random bulletproof gear.
But the person wearing it... was surprisingly tough.
"You should’ve kept your distance."
"Ah..."
He wanted to say something, but only the sound of air escaping came out.
Then, a burst of laughter followed.
"No way... Ahhh..."
"Any last words?"
"Uh..."
Then, the words that followed.
"Please sign it."
"Send me a message later."
Thung!
With a loud pop, the head exploded, and the person—whether male or female—was ejected back to the lobby.
"Is it because of the green background? It's kind of green inside too."
Why do I only have people plotting against me in my room?
It seems I need to farm hard to clear up this misunderstanding with these friends—either way, I’m now in Olive. The five English letters were scattered all over the walls. I passed the info desk and began searching through the warehouse.
In the meantime, a Bandit who seemed to have just spawned cursed loudly and aimed a firearm at me. I threw the axe I’d been carrying into his face to quiet him. With a sickening sound, he turned into a golden polygon and disappeared, and I felt a sense of satisfaction.
...Does this mean the plot against me isn’t really a plot?
I quietly approached, pulled the axe from his forehead, and, as the game system doesn’t let blood stain me, I stowed it back into my pocket. On the floor were a few scattered items. Digging through them, I found a small medical kit... and what looked like a USB.
Glancing at the chat, it was a mess.
So this is what they mean by "짤짤"?
Luckily, the viewers were quite helpful with things like inventory value, giving real-time price updates on items or urging me to stash away items for future quests. A bit unfortunate that the flea market feature hadn’t opened yet.
Despite that, I kept seeing comments telling me to put the items in my panties. Is that what they mean by this small container? Upon a closer look, I learned that items placed in this small storage box would remain even if I died.
They call it panties because... it just feels more fitting.
"This is why they call it a junk-gathering game."
So 짤짤 means picking up items? I guess that’s how it is. When it comes to quests, you keep the useful ones and sell the rest.
Given this, I think combat is just a secondary enjoyment during farming. Of course, if the viewers heard this, there would likely be a riot, so I kept quiet.
Walking around, with help from about 1.2 million EU-grandmothers, I picked up a few useful junk items. The reason I didn’t pick up many was that the quality and quantity of the items weren’t impressive.
"Not much came out from one spot. It seems like it’s time to enter the main area, so I’ll head in."
Connected to Olive was the Ultima Mall. Beyond the wide open area, gunfire echoed endlessly.
Fortunately, I wasn’t too worried. A wonderful user, ranked 3/15 in kill count, had generously donated a spacious bag, a decent gun, and several magazines along with other combat items. The AK-101 I held in my hands was proof of that.
Even so, I couldn’t bear to part with the shotgun, so I carefully stowed it on my back and slowly exited Olive. I remembered that just ahead, there were shops where items for upgrading shelter and gear boxes dropped in large quantities.
───Tudududu!
"Ugh."
As expected.
Among the several shots fired, one bullet grazed my cheek. Someone was already waiting. It seemed like a sad story for them, but I saw the muzzle flash. I hid briefly, then jumped up and fired a preemptive shot.
It was only 1 second. Too short to move to another spot after removing my scope, so through the red crosshairs of my PPT HAMR, I saw one person fall backward. Riding the momentum, I thought about pushing forward, but it was too difficult.
A grenade rolled in with a loud noise. Just before it exploded, I felt the ground tremble under my boots—clearly, they were trying to push me.
I immediately moved.
'One is dead, and it looks like there are one or two more...'
Not something I wanted, but it seemed I was becoming the fisherman again.
I quickly increased the distance. Specifically, I retreated back to the Olive I had just crossed. It was to better counter the grenade. As expected, two grenades flew through the air toward me, but when their trajectories were so clear, I couldn’t just let them be.
I pulled the trigger. Two bullets shot through the air, striking the grenade casings. One hit directly and pierced through, while the other ricocheted to the side, but neither caused me harm.
I was left with two grenades. I thought about blocking the front passage to Ultima Mall, then sneaking down to the emergency office stairwell. I wasn’t too worried and quietly waited, predicting their movements.
───Tudududu!
As I fired a preemptive shot, two people spread out and entered the building.
It was a difficult situation. Although I had swapped my armor, I’d taken quite a few hits from slugs, and I wasn’t sure how well the internal armor would hold up. This meant I had to rely on my shooting skills to break through one side...
That was my specialty.
As my aim followed my body, I stepped up onto a small shelf and leapt over a 2.5-meter-high shelf, hiding behind it.
"Crazy, what is that?"
...Let’s ignore that mumble.
With the sound of landing, I hid the sound of pulling the grenade pin, then waited 2 seconds, popping out from the shelf and throwing it through the pass. The grenade exploded midair, scattering metal pellets in all directions. Maintaining my speed, I slid, reaching the cover where the enemy had been hiding.
The AK-101 roared.
"AAARGH!"
One person turned into a porcupine, falling to the ground, and I grabbed their body to use as a shield. As soon as I identified the last enemy’s position, I placed the body down and grabbed the pin of my last grenade. Since it wasn’t my own armor, I hadn’t tied it up with a fishing line.
As I was about to throw it, a voice, soft and fragile, echoed.
"Please don’t shoot me! I want peace!"
It was a crude plea for mercy.
But it didn’t sound very sincere. The reason was simple. While they said those words, the sound of a magazine being swapped mixed in. Holding the grenade that hadn't yet been detached, they muttered in a somewhat professional English accent.
"No one can be an exception."
I wasn’t sure if they understood, but the grenade flew through the air.
And so, I collected three skulls.