Hunter of the Perished World

Of course, all of Ard Point's possessions were plundered and evaporated with the explosion.

But that doesn't mean you don't have anything to lose.

There were supplies of slatters, not arc points.

"These guys.... Did you rob the Wargrave Fortress? What a weapon..."

Yesterday, I wasn't rushing into it, but Gene sees weapons in the cargo hold in the junk wagon parking lot and forgets to speak.

It was packed with RPGs, Bazookas, Panther Faust, and many of the former heavy artillery, as well as warheads.

"What's all this?"

As with the rest of the Saved Zone, Leonardo's weapons were blinded, so he couldn't even tell what was full of them.

However, the dangerous atmosphere they created was not just an ordinary object, but it was speaking. In fact, Leona gets tired of the thought of attacking her yesterday.

"One of those bastards was sharpening something yesterday, so the building was very simple. Is that what this is?"

"Oh, that's it."

Gene picks up the launcher and the rocket.

"It's called an RPG. This is type 7."

"Is it ancient?"

"Well…. That's what they'll call it."

An ancient weapon, at most 200 years ago, but Gene found it quite amusing that it was called an ancient reality. To be precise, all of Gene's firearms belonged to something called an ancient weapon. But in Gene's view, the RPG series was not built before the extinction, but after the extinction.

"Can I try? How do you use it?"

"Rather than see you shoot this, I'd rather dispose of the power."

Gene shakes his head at the thought of this kid sharpening the rocket launcher. Leona asks a few questions, but she ignores Jean and searches Wagon's cargo hold.

'I don't have any firearms, but I only have heavy firearms.... What's with the balance of firearms?'

Rocket Launcher, RPG7, was stacked on a pile of warheads, and there was a portable grenade called a Chipbuster.

"Huh."

Gene was the most ridiculous when he saw a high-explosive device that could be used for anti-aircraft guns or ground fixtures. I don't have enough firearms to use, but I can't believe you have ammunition.

'They really robbed us of something.'

You can't be armed with a weapon you don't know how to use, and you don't even have a gun.

'Too bad we're out of ammo...' '

There could be 5.56 mm or 7.62 mm rounds, but not a single bullet. Probably doing something big like blowing up a heavy artillery depot somewhere and then running off with the butt down.

"But this is an unexpected income... Okay."

Gene has an RPG launcher and a warhead. Leona tilts her head to watch Gene take the warhead and put it in her bag.

"Is that expensive?"

"Rather than being expensive..."

Jean chooses what to say, and then spits it out.

"You can't get chips with them."

It meant something so precious that it could not be expressed verbally. That's how Leona looked so pale.

"Then it's fucking expensive! I'll take it, too."

As you can see, the heavy artillery stored was quite a number to take all the gin.

"You misunderstood me."

But Gene grabbed Leona by the shoulder and said,

"I can't get it, but I can't sell it."

"Why?"

"You can't sell a weapon like this to someone who didn't know what it was in the first place? On the other hand, if you sell this to someone who knows what it is, you will definitely be the target of caution. Do you want to die as soon as you get to town? And where would you keep it?"

Of course, I couldn't fit a single bullet in Leona's backpack.

"And this, I think, belongs to the Wargraves."

"Wargrave? Th... What, you mean the soldiers?"

"Yes, only Wargraves have this much heavy artillery."

You can't have this kind of firepower in bulk unless you're at military Wargrave level. Gene is half sure of his conjectures.

"We don't know for sure, but it looks like these slatters robbed Wargrave. Carrying Wargrave's stuff openly is like saying you want to die."

"That's not true..."

Leona stares at Gin.

"You're taking it."

"It's not like you to have it in plain sight."

Gene points to a gap in the air, and Leona bows her head.

"This is a scam..."

The empty space was not infinite, so the amount of gin you could carry was fixed.

'There's a launcher…. If you squeeze as hard as you can, you can get 10 feet.'

Emptiness zones sometimes required evidence of hunting, so they always needed to leave space behind. Ultimately, Gene chose to pick and choose the items to take.

Gene chose five upgraded heat warheads.

"What's the difference?"

Leona bites if you're curious about looking at the weapons carefully.

"Hmm…."

Gene puts the heat warhead into the void and decides for a moment what to say.

"If Slater shot you with this yesterday, you'd probably be dead."

Gene added.

"And that building would collapse."

Heat pressure warheads that Gin chose were monstrous weapons of destruction. There it is a model that is produced in retrofit rather than before the apocalypse. If it was fired, not only a dizzy medium-sized monster, but a large one was enough.

Leona tilts her head to see if Jean's destructive power is unimaginable.

I paid for my hard work, and I packed a lot of firepower. The warheads of the heat bombs and slatters were in good condition and firepower enough to be lightly transferred to chips.

Leona knew it was dangerous, but she also knew it was expensive, so she tasted bad.

"What about the rest?"

I couldn't carry it, and I was afraid of who would pick it up if I just let it go.

"Bury it."

Gene pulls a shovel out of the junk wagon and starts digging quietly. I dug the ground quickly by shoveling a shovel as though it were a cake.

It's a big world, and you're planning to find your way back here and take out your weapons. Leona doesn't understand, but she wasn't told to help, so she was watching.

In fact, Gene hid a large amount of ammunition and weapons that could not be hidden or buried on the ground. Keeping the coordinates in mind in the Dark Bone system, Gene was able to locate them at any time and precisely. It was better for me to know its location than to destroy it or let it get into someone else's hands.

Gene dug a pit that could hold up to three junk wagons.

After that, it was even worse.

Of course, if you bury the warhead and launcher, it will rust because of the moisture, making it hard to use. Gene removes the iron plates from the junk wagon, makes a huge metal box, smashes all the warheads into it, and welds them to prevent water from entering. Leona shakes her head at the sight, not knowing what a portable welder is.

Then he shoveled again, buried the metal crates and flattened his waist after that. Leona looks at the big job and says with a fat face.

"I feel like I'm burying some kind of skull."

"... I'm even angrier because it's not the wrong expression."

Unlike the neighborhood's asshole, there are bones buried all over the world.

"Are we done here?"

Leona yawns as if she's still there, and Jean opens her junk wagon reactor without a word.

"What now?"

"Take whatever you want."

Junk Wagon powers the chip. That's why Gene was going to rob the reactor of all its fuel. The junk wagons were all the same, but the engine type reactors were all the same, and Gene scraped off all the fuel without leaving a single chip.

That gives us a total of 280 chips, so we can say that slater hunting wasn't a quest, but it saw profitable results.

"I thought I was pretty shitty, too."

Leona looks at Gin with a weary look on her face.

"What was it like?"

"But not at all. You're the best."

Leona raises her thumb.

"You're the worst person I've ever seen."

"Not a compliment, is it?"

"Of course."

Plunder the cargo, plunder the junk wagon's fuel, and bury any weapons you can't even take. It seemed to Leona that she was going to do it quietly without being bored or tired.

Of course, now that I'm really done with my business, all I have to do is leave the road.

"Aren't we going to ride this?"

Leona doesn't see the junk wagon rolling, but even though she pretends to know it's a human burn, she looks at the gin and asks.

"There's no hobby of driving a bomb."

"Why? It's better than walking. My legs don't hurt. What's the matter with those bastards?"

"One thing to keep in mind:"

Gene stops walking and looks at Leona.

"There are quite a few things I hate. I hate taking chances. Next thing you know, they hate noisy, loud, messy things."

"……."

"That includes both. I don't want to ride on monsters' backs, but I don't want to."

So Gene insisted that I wouldn't be riding it. Believe it or not, Gene hated junk wagons. Junkwagon's noisy engine sounds have driven monsters around or made them run away, and advertising that I'm here has been a million light years away from Gene's style.

"Is that so dangerous?"

"I'll show you."

Again, it's best to show them than to hear them.

Boom!

"Ow!"

Gene approaches the junk wagon and pushes it roughly into the soles of his feet. Along with the noise, the side of the junk wagon slumps and the car sits flat. Leona opens her mouth as she looks at the junk wagon in the car.

"Well, what the..."

"The biggest reason slatters are called crazies is because they were in these things in the first place."

A car that crumbles all at once. Leona can't help but want to ride it. Gene leaves without a word, and Leona follows him with a shivering look.

"But, you know, I know that's dangerous stuff. Didn't you kick too hard in the first place?"

"I kicked normally."

"No, I saw your footprints on the iron plate."

"You must be mistaken."

The broken iron plate of a junk wagon is roughly the size of a gin foot.

Leona was unable to grasp the ribs, whether it was the junk wagon squatting with one kick, or the hunter smashing the junk wagon with one kick.

However, Gene walked away diligently.

"Oh man, slow down!"

"Come quickly."

Leona follows Gene on her footsteps.

Progress, Leonardo, has not spoken a word about the deaths that occurred at Ad Point from yesterday to today.

They both knew too well that nothing would come back.

In that regard, they clearly had a peculiar resemblance, and they found something in common with each other because they did not deal with the topic.

The two just leave Ard Point, not looking back, as if they were never coming back this time.