Surviving without God

In the Middle City Security Bureau, Emergency Response Branch. Due to the recent surge of robberies across the Labyrinth, the office was packed with personnel called in from various departments. Amid the constant hum of communication devices and the rustling of documents, Seraz Bolton walked forward with a heavy, confident stride. Nearly 180 centimeters tall, gray hair slicked back, decorations gleaming on her chest—there wasn’t a single person who wouldn’t recognize her.

— Oh, Chief of Staff?

— Serving the homeland!

To the young Bureau officers, Seraz was a living legend. Subordinates, faces shining, snapped to attention and saluted her.

But something was off. No matter how busy Seraz was, she always returned a greeting. This time, however, she didn’t stop even for a moment. The stunned officers exchanged confused glances.

— What’s with her? Did we screw something up?

— No, it’s like she didn’t even see us... Did something happen?

— Isn’t she supposed to be in the Upper City right now? It’s total chaos there because of the Bellamor incident.

— ...Hey, it’s not just me, right?

— What?

— Her eyes...

Ignoring the whispers behind her, Seraz headed toward the designated operational room of the special forces unit. In a place where those tasked ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) with violent suppression resided, the atmosphere was completely different from a regular office. Heavy air saturated with the smell of iron, rows of specialized gear lining the walls, glinting coldly in the dim light. For her, once a part of this unit, the place was painfully familiar.

At that moment, a man approached her with undisguised delight, his face half-hidden behind a thick beard. The smell of tobacco clung to him, his eyes bloodshot, yet his aura remained sharp and piercing. If not for the difference in gender, he might as well have been cut from the same cloth as Seraz.

— Well, look who it is! Senior, you came to see us?

“Senior.” For someone in Seraz’s unreachable position as Chief of Operational Command, such a form of address could have been considered disrespectful. But she didn’t care. Back then and now, she had always believed that before those who hadn’t sold out and walked the path of justice, ranks meant nothing.

— ...Yeah. I came.

Seraz slowly swept her gaze across the room. Most of the special forces members, upon seeing her, broke into smiles and saluted. The scene clearly showed what kind of commander and mentor she had been to them.

— Senior! It’s freezing outside.

Without waiting for orders, someone rushed off to brew black tea for her. But she didn’t even touch the cup, instead lighting a cigarette.

— ...Not going to drink?

She addressed the confused junior officer herself:

— Hey. Do you remember our first operation together?

— What, all of a sudden?

— I asked if you remember, idiot. Answer the question. Got too comfortable, have you?

— Of course I remember! I was a green rookie back then, and you were the team leader.

That was right.

— We were taking down those bastards who were stealing magi-engineered devices and selling them to gangs... I almost pissed myself from fear. An order to storm a building crawling with armed thugs. Even now, my legs shake just thinking about it.

Another officer chimed in:

— What? You were scared, sir? No way.

— What’s impossible is a captain butting into a conversation between a commissioner and a superintendent. That’s what’s out of line, kid.

— Ah—sorry!

— Anyway, what you said to me back then became the motto of my entire police career.

Seraz nodded with an empty gaze. But they didn’t seem to notice.

— ...And what did I say?

The junior officer smirked and, mimicking her voice, recited:

— “Open your damn eyes, you idiot! You’re a cop! If you break down crying and collapse now, ten people will be crying at your funeral tomorrow!”

In Seraz’s memory, the words sounded a little softer. But that didn’t matter anymore.

— Yeah. Seems like you learned them well. You became a fine cop.

— Oh, come on, you’re embarrassing me. What, are you about to die or something, getting all sentimental?..

Very slowly, Seraz moved her hand behind her back. As if secretly hoping someone would stop her. The bearded officer tilted his head.

— By the way, Senior, what’s that in your hand?

Whoosh!

Instead of answering, Seraz swung the thermos. Its contents splashed forward to the last drop.

...Pig’s blood and dog’s blood.

Gunther had taught her this. These vile worms were monsters that copied humans, and for that, they required human flesh and blood. Therefore... upon contact with biological material that was similar but not identical—such as animal blood—they should trigger a violent rejection reaction.

Splaaash!

In that brief moment when the blood flew through the air, Seraz prayed desperately for one thing.

Let Gunther be wrong. Let the junior officer, drenched in blood, simply laugh in confusion. Let her awkwardly apologize, and let the special forces behind her laugh about it for a long time.

She’d probably have to treat everyone to meals and drinks for a whole month. Yes... let it be like that.

— AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

Raul Baston’s face—Seraz’s loyal comrade—twisted into an inhuman scream and began to collapse. Where the blood touched him, flesh and bone began to melt unstably, losing shape. The same thing happened to Captain Ridel Vain, who had just been laughing beside him. The blood ate through his body like fire through paper, and his insides caved in. And within that gaping void... “it” was visible.

— Ah...

Seraz had seen countless horrific crime scenes in her life, but she couldn’t bear to look at this for long.

In this cursed city, filled with filthy temptations. To see police officers—who had lived their entire lives for justice and conviction—turned into hollow shells, devoured from within by a monster... she couldn’t endure it.

So she pulled the trigger.

Bang—!

The specially modified high-powered maternal pistol, whose recoil a human body could barely withstand, roared.

Bang—!

In an instant, two headless bodies collapsed to the floor. Seraz’s arm twisted unnaturally under the recoil, but her face remained expressionless.

— S-Senior!

— What the...?!

— Everyone, stay where you are!

Chaos erupted in the special forces operations room. Even for veteran officers, this was beyond imagination. The gunshots triggered alarm in the main office as well.

Footsteps. Shouts. But in the midst of this madness, Seraz’s world was eerily silent. Aside from the distant sound of her own heartbeat, everything else seemed muted, as if the world had fallen into a silent scene.

— Ah.

Seraz turned her head. And in that merciless silence, she met the eyes of several junior officers who stared at her with frozen, emotionless faces, as if the chaos around them meant nothing.

— What a... fucking mess.

Click.

***

Click.

The final clang of metal echoed across the site. The large-scale construction that had lasted over a week had finally come to an end.

— ...With this, my merit points are settled.

A low voice, more like a vibration, spread through the air. As soon as the words ended, Gunther nodded. His gaze was fixed on the newly completed building.

After delivering the information to Seraz, Gunther decided there was no point acting openly until the “bloody purge” was over, and focused entirely on completing his shelter.

The construction had been massive. Not only were the merit points earned from the Bellamor incident spent, but all previous reserves as well. If Kalian, who handled merit distribution, hadn’t turned a blind eye to certain things, it wouldn’t have been enough. But honestly... he didn’t regret it in the slightest.

— I really like it. Truly.

— You better.

Dramcrow, the resident blacksmith of “Night Raven,” straightened his back and looked thoughtfully at his “creation.”

— Building a shelter in a place like this... You’re a real weirdo.

Sharin, who had helped with the work, giggled and whispered to Gunther:

— Hearing “weirdo” from Dramcrow is the highest praise. But still...

Her sky-blue eyes traced along the outer walls of the completed building.

— Who but Gunther would think of rebuilding this place—and in this way?

Gunther gave a respectful bow. Sharin’s contribution to the construction had been immense. Thanks to their high affinity, she had helped him day and night, and the work was completed ahead of schedule.

— Thank you. We did an excellent job. I prepared a laboratory inside, so please come by often.

— Of course! We still have so much to do together. Hehe. And besides, take a few steps here and there’s material for experiments everywhere. Honestly, this place is even better than the Nest.

By the way, he had signed a “test subject supply contract” with her. Eddie and Roanna’s group would capture various human scum and deliver them to her, and in return, they would receive alchemical ingredients and reagents.

— ...Well then, time to open.

Rustle, rustle.

Under everyone’s expectant gaze, Gunther approached the entrance. Waiting there were Tarsha and Blanc with a ribbon they had somehow brought, and the entire Fourth Platoon, ready to fire party poppers at any moment. The corners of Gunther’s lips twitched.

“To think I’d fulfill my dream of owning a home like this...”

His gaze slowly moved beyond the ribbon. The scenery behind it clashed completely with the festive decorations. Gloomy shadows, gray ash, and dust settled over abandoned factory buildings. This was the Lower City—the most remote and desolate outskirts.

Several years ago, Corelight Corporation, one of the three largest companies in the Border City, had attempted to illegally process a high-grade core extracted from the Labyrinth, resulting in a massive explosion. The epicenter was completely destroyed, many workers died. Even now, if one walked a little further, that enormous crater could still be seen. Yet the corporation not only refused to apologize but covered everything up with enormous bribes, leaving it as it was.

“The surrounding area was abandoned and left to decay.”

When rumors spread about “toxic substances” spilling through the area, authorities declared it hazardous and completely prohibited entry. Even the desperate residents of the Lower City had no desire to slowly die from poisoning. The place became a ghost zone.

And it was in this dreadful place that Gunther built his “new home.”

Why?

Because the “toxic substance” was actually distorted mana from the remnants of the exploded core. For ordinary people, it was indeed harmful. But with proper filtration and purification, the area became a rare source of magical resources—like a powerful energy vein.

In the original game scenario, this truth was revealed much later. There had been a separate scenario to develop a purification device, requiring countless trials, errors, and sacrifices.

“Only then could a group base be established there.”

But Gunther already knew the recipe. By combining the efforts of Sharin, Dramcrow, and the Drug-Addicted Saint, they created a purification device far superior and more powerful than the one in the original storyline.

[The Ruler of the Oceans takes a deep breath]

[She says the purity of the mana doesn’t impress her much, but it’s sufficient to raise the level of your companions]

[The King of Ninety-Nine Defeats adds that if the Art of the Pure Heart is used, the remaining impurities can be filtered out]

After that, Gunther selected a sturdy building at a sufficient distance from the crater and installed the device there. Brody’s support came at just the right time—having earned a fortune from Gunther’s recent advice, she happily funded the interior remodeling to hotel-level standards. Gunther himself added several useful features. In the end, it became a full-fledged residential complex: kitchen, baths, training hall, laboratory, and recovery room—all included.

Snip!

The moment the ribbon was cut, the Fourth Platoon erupted in cheers, firing party poppers.

— Congratulations, Gunther!

— Thanks! I can’t believe we’re going to live in a place like this!

— I... I’ll try to figure something out about rent!

— Long live the commander!

Immediately after the congratulations, the members shoved each other and rushed inside.

— That room is mine!

— Move aside!

— Tarsha! Don’t you dare use lightning!

— Flying on Seraz Gless is cheating!

— Levain, that thief is climbing the outer wall!

It was all because Gunther had firmly declared: room assignments would only happen after the ceremony. Eddie, Brody, Roanna, and Dimona—who were already living with him—watched the new residents with smiles.

...And at that very moment, the message Gunther had been waiting for appeared.

Ding!

[Group base established!]

...Finally! Gunther’s eyes gleamed with excitement. The group base—this function had existed in the game as well. It allowed for group buffs, which were absolutely essential in the face of the large-scale battles ahead.

[Please assign a name to your base]

[After registration, unique effects and base rank will be revealed]

...He had already decided on the name long ago. Gunther spoke without hesitation.