Robbed

Things unfolded just as Kirk had expected. Ten minutes later, they retreated to the Control Room to defend themselves. Kirk shut the two steel doors, each two centimeters thick, but smashed the glass in their windows. Little Fatty gleefully aimed his steel shovel through the openings at the Walkers, taking one out with every swing. Kirk grabbed a steel pipe and drove it into the Walkers' eyes. The two of them fought with such enthusiasm that the Walkers kept dropping at the doorway.

However, the Walkers had seemingly endless strength. Under their relentless pounding, even the steel doors began to bend, little by little. The joints between the doors and their frames were warping especially badly.

"Little Fatty, I may have gotten you into this mess. I never expected this mission to be so difficult. There are far more Walkers than I estimated. It looks like the System designed this mission for a whole team, and calculated the difficulty based on the upper limit of what a team working together could handle."

"Big Brother, do you know how many Walkers I've killed now? More than five hundred. I killed over 460 in just two hours earlier. Before that, I'd only killed forty in total. The System even told me I'd earned the [Walker Slayer] title. You must have earned that title ages ago, Big Brother. Following you is risky, but the rewards are better, so it's worth taking a chance. We're not out of options yet, are we? Don't forget, I've still got a full-restoration potion." Little Fatty was in high spirits.

"You're a good brother. Once you kill five hundred, that title lets you reach the next rank. Keep killing. The stronger you are, the safer you'll be."

"Huh? There's a next rank too? You Walker bastards, Grandpa Little Fatty is coming for you!" Little Fatty suddenly didn't feel tired anymore. Back in the Dimension, everything had been oppressive and full of failure; he'd had to run for his life at every turn. Now, even though they were in great danger, the rewards were substantial and there was hope. If he died, then so be it—at least he'd die with hope.

In fact, Kirk had already received a System Prompt: "Contractor No. 4444, you have killed more than 1,000 Walkers in total. You have earned the Silver rank title [Walker King]. Effect: When equipped, increases damage dealt to Walkers by 20%. The next rank is the Gold rank title [Enemy of Walkers]. Current progress: 1344/2000. Continue improving your title rank." Kirk had been wearing the Black Iron rank title [Walker Slayer], which increased the damage he dealt to Walkers by 10%. Otherwise, he couldn't have killed them so smoothly. Now he'd earned his first Silver Title. It was a pretty useless title, with very limited applications; it was completely ineffective outside Walker worlds like The Walking Dead and Resident Evil. Still, it was a glorious, dazzling Silver Title, and that extra 10% damage added up to a considerable amount over several days. If Mori hadn't encouraged him, if he hadn't dared to repeatedly throw caution to the wind and venture into danger, and if he hadn't known the plot well enough to turn the tables through clever tricks several times, he could never have earned a Silver Title during the Newcomer Trial.

Just as the two of them were making their last stand, they heard gunfire erupt outside.

"Over here! The Walkers are packed together!"

"Kill them! This all counts toward our contribution!"

"Get them!"

It was Blondie and the others. Little Fatty let out a long breath. He really had reached his limit; his hands were cramping from all the killing.

"Thank goodness we're saved. Hey, Big Brother, why did the System just tell me that using my strength to fight enemies for so long developed my potential and increased my Strength by one point?"

Kirk was startled. The Dimension rewarded Contractors who fought desperately, and he'd gained plenty of benefits himself, including several basic skills. But he'd never received an increase to a basic attribute. Little Fatty said his original Strength had been only four points, not much higher than Kirk's. The Newcomer bonus had increased it by 50%, bringing it to six. Now, after killing so many Walkers, it had gone up again.

Kirk guessed that basic attributes could improve through prolonged training, but there was probably a limit. Once a person reached their potential, such as the five points of Strength, Agility, or Stamina that the Dimension listed as normal for a man, increasing those attributes would become difficult or even impossible. He'd been fighting in close combat the whole time without gaining any Strength. Perhaps it was a matter of chance, or perhaps his Strength had already reached six after he'd chosen the three-point Strength reward, putting him above the human norm and making further gains more difficult.

Kirk regretted it a little, but at the time, they'd been on the brink of death. Without enough Strength, the Walkers would have crushed him with their attacks, and he wouldn't have survived until now. Last night, one Walker's bite alone had nearly killed him. He would have lost everything.

Still, it seemed he should take training more seriously. He might get an unexpected benefit.

After a while, it quieted down outside. The Walkers must have been cleared out.

"That was a hell of a fight. There were a lot of Walkers! Blondie, we've got first place in the bag, right?" a young man asked.

Blondie looked smug. "If it weren't for your brilliant and mighty Blondie here, you wouldn't have killed half this many monsters. First place is definitely mine."

The others showered him with flattery. It was so sickening that Little Fatty nearly threw up, while Kirk just chuckled to himself.

"Blondie, what do we do next?"

"The alarm went off here, so this must be some sort of Control Room. We should search it for anything valuable. Bucktooth, kick the door in!"

Kirk and Little Fatty exchanged a glance, then opened the door themselves. "Blondie, don't shoot. It's us."

"You!" Blondie was taken aback. He demanded sharply, "What are you doing here?"

"It's a long story." Kirk put on a crestfallen expression. "We came in to kill Walkers, but this damn place was too dark, and they kept sneaking up on us. I was badly injured, so we fought our way back here. We even pushed down a diesel barrel to stop them, but it didn't work. After we hid in the Control Room, this idiot accidentally hit the alarm, and the noise attracted even more Walkers." He shot Little Fatty a furious look, and Little Fatty lowered his head sheepishly.

"We had no choice but to hide inside and hope someone would come rescue us. And then, at last, you showed up, Blondie!" Kirk ran forward, clasped Blondie's hand, and acted overcome with gratitude. Blondie grew increasingly uncomfortable with Kirk's grip, then flared up in anger.

"Bullshit! Don't try to fob me off with that crap! Tell me, what did you two get? Hand it over! Or you're not leaving here!" Blondie sneered. The others pulled out their guns and aimed them at Kirk and Little Fatty, their expressions hostile.

Kirk and Little Fatty exchanged a glance. Little Fatty stammered, "Big Brother, Blondie wouldn't break his word. Since he saved us, as long as we're alive, that's enough. We should just give him the few Survival Points we got."

Blondie sneered. "That's right. Hand over every last Survival Point you've got. Don't think you can fool me. If you try, you'll die a horrible death!"

Kirk's heart went cold. Blondie sounded so certain, as if he had something to back up his demands. Kirk looked closely: the others were all grinning smugly and staring at Blondie's chest. He was wearing a pair of sunglasses, and faint glimmers of light flickered across them now and then. Kirk distinctly remembered that a Newcomer who'd teamed up with Blondie had died outside. He seemed to remember seeing the sunglasses on that Newcomer.

"Equipment!" Kirk's heart tightened. He'd gained a lot from this battle. Before the fight with the Walker horde, he'd counted his Survival Points and found he had 4,136. After the fight, he'd earned around 900 more by setting fires and killing Walkers, bringing his total to a whopping 5,000 or so. He'd traded 2,000 Survival Points to Fatty earlier to buy Gonzalez's boots, so he now had 3,000 left. Little Fatty had about 3,000 too. Together, the two brothers had 6,000—a huge fortune. Besides the pain of giving it up, the bigger problem was that they couldn't explain where they'd gotten so many points.

If Blondie found out how much they'd gained, he definitely wouldn't let them leave. As the saying went, a man was innocent, but his jade made him a target. If they had only a little, he'd rob them and be done with it; once he'd squeezed them dry, he might let them go. But if he discovered they had treasure, he'd kill them and take it all.

Blondie looked smug. "I took that unlucky bastard's equipment. These let me see how many Survival Points you're carrying. Don't think you can fool me."

Kirk suddenly came up with an idea. "Blondie, my admiration for you is as vast as the rolling Yangtze, and like the Yellow River, it—"

"Cut the crap! Pay up!"

"Before we hand over the points, could I take a look at your glasses? I've never seen such a stylish pair."

"What are you plotting?"

"Blondie, there are only two of us, and we don't have any guns. There's no way we could beat you, and we wouldn't dare steal your equipment. Let us broaden our horizons, will you?"

Blondie considered it for a moment, then handed the sunglasses over with a knowing smile. "Fine. Maybe then you'll stop thinking you can hide anything from me, and I won't have to kill you. The team's too small as it is. Take a look at this treasure."

Kirk and Little Fatty huddled together. It really was a treasure.

[Tyrannosaurus Glasses]: Tyrannosaurus Glasses, a domestic brand, world-class quality.

[Rank]: Equipment brought in by a Contractor. A Thief Contractor modified it in the real world using X-ray technology. It was then brought into the Dimension and recognized by the Dimension.

[Effect]: [X-Ray Vision] Level 1.

The user can use their will to contest the target's will. If the target fails the check, the user can see the Contractor's attributes, skills, Survival Points, and Skill Potential Points. If the target is a Plot Character, the user can see some of their equipment and attributes. Failure will provoke immense hostility from the Plot Character and reduce Favorability by 50. If Favorability falls below 30, they will attack immediately.

[Notes]: The maker modified this item without authorization, and the workmanship is rough, so it consumes a lot of energy. Each use costs 50 energy points, and it can be used once every 72 hours. Since it is special equipment brought into the Dimension by a Contractor, it can be upgraded once in the Dimension for 2,000 Survival Points and 2 Skill Potential Points.

After Kirk finished reading, he handed the glasses back to Blondie without hesitation.

"Blondie, you're incredible. You even managed to get your hands on such powerful magical equipment." Kirk was relieved. First, he transferred 2,800 Survival Points to Little Fatty, then traded all his remaining points to Blondie: 314 in total. He'd thought carefully about the amount. For a Newcomer who'd spent the whole time running away, that was about what he might have left. Blondie then used the [X-Ray Vision] built into the [Tyrannosaurus Glasses] on Kirk. The glasses flashed as they scanned him. Blondie already knew Kirk was Little Fatty's leader. As far as he was concerned, the money would be with the big brother. He wasn't worried Kirk had cheated by transferring points to Little Fatty, since if a subordinate had too much money, he might turn on his leader and run. Kirk would be left with nothing.

"Fatty's my little brother, and I'm the big brother. Most of the Survival Points are with me..." Kirk said with a fawning smile.

When Blondie saw that Kirk didn't have a single point on him, he couldn't help feeling pleased. He'd been a professional robber in the real world, and robbing people in the Dimension was just a force of habit. He got a twisted thrill from it.

Then Little Fatty dutifully handed over another 50 Survival Points. Kirk cried, "I can't believe it! You little punk! You had the nerve to hide money from your big brother!" He smacked Little Fatty on the back of the head. Little Fatty yelled furiously, "What kind of big brother are you? I can't save anything! How am I supposed to survive? You're not my big brother anymore, and I'm not your brother!"

As they argued, the two of them even started throwing punches, trading blows that landed solidly as they fought without restraint.