CHAPTER 65: INTERACTIONS WITH THE NIGHT PART 24

Before heading on the watch tower, the sight of three corpses caught his attention.

He told Dima to collect them the night before.

’I still have some time,’

Slowly, he reached out, testing for any blessing—like with the dwarves.

Nothing.

’Worth a shot,’ he muttered, walking back to the watchtower.

The sun was still climbing up the sky.

Light poured over the dusty road in front of the compound, making long shadows stretch across the cracked earth.

Ten figures stood outside the wall.

Not one looked friendly. They wore old gear—mismatched armor, faded jackets, and belts stacked with knives and bullets.

These weren’t regular scavengers. They looked like a squad built for causing trouble.

One stepped forward. Tall, scar over his cheek, rifle on his shoulder.

"We’re looking for our crew," his eyes scanned the compound. "They came through here, led by my wife. Haven’t heard from them since."

Luck kept his composure as he stood on the platform , his coat swaying slightly in the breeze.

Though his posture stayed calm, his mind raced—he knew exactly who the strangers were looking for. They were the ones he killed yesterday.

Not like he started it. They were too dangerous to leave roaming.

"Missing people, huh? Yeah, been hearing that a lot lately. Could be zombies, could be raiders. Around here, it’s not unusual for people to run into trouble."

"What did your crew look like?" he asked. "Any names or appearance that stands out? Might help us remember something."

The scarred leader shook his head. "We don’t give names to strangers."

Luck gave a small shrug. "Then I can’t help you. You want answers, but you’re not giving me anything to work with. That’s not how this works."

The leader’s tone dropped, and the fake politeness vanished.

"Cut the bullshit! I know they came through here. Where are they now?"

His hand hovered menacingly near his rifle, ready to strike.

"Depending on your answer... we’ll decide what happens next."

One of the outsiders moved to the left, a calculated move to gain advantage, while another took a deliberate step back, eyes darting with intent.

A third outsider crouched, pretending to adjust his boot, but his fingers twitched over the gun strapped to his leg.

Luck stayed quiet, eyes moving from one outsider to the next. He wasn’t rushing his answer.

"Look, I get it. Losing people sucks. But if you’re going to stand there staring us down like you’re about to start something, let me make things clear."

The smile faded from his lips.

"This compound is under my protection . And if you keep acting like assholes...I won’t mind sending all of you to the afterlife."

"You’re bold," The leader sneered before raising his hand. "I’ll give you that."

Figures began emerging from behind broken buses, collapsed walls, and burnt-out storefronts.

They came from the alleys, rooftops, and side streets.

First three.

Then five.

Then more.

In less than a minute, armed figures emerged from all angles, forming a loose circle around the compound.

Some crouched behind wreckage. Others stood out in the open, weapons drawn.

Yuna and the others backed away from the walls, worried their heads might get blown off if they stayed too long.

Even Luck stepped back from the platform edge.

As much as he liked to act fearless, he was pretty sure he wasn’t bulletproof—yet.

’Would’ve been nice if the system sold helmet that didn’t cost a kidney.’

He stayed low, just enough to stay out of sight, but not so low that he looked like he was panicking.

The last thing he needed was for the survivors to see him rattled.

[DING]

[Bonus Mission: Defend your territory. Eliminate or drive off the intruders. Reward: Gold Box]

Another Gold Box. But this time, he felt like he deserved two.

The system’s reward algorithm made no sense.

He got the same prize for sleeping with a drop-dead gorgeous virgin as he did for fighting off a group of raiders who looked like they walked out of a post-apocalypse film.

At this point, he wouldn’t be shocked if a guy with a metal jaw started screaming from the roof of a spiked-out war vehicle, with blindfolded drummers banging away in the back.

"You sure you’re not here to make friends? You really want an all-out war?" Luck shouted over the wall. "I’ll tell you this—we’ve got over fifty people inside this place!"

It was a solid bluff. Enough fake confidence to sell it.

But instead of listening, the others began hurling big rocks

"Motherfuckers," Luck snapped.

No more waiting. Reaching into his bag, he pulled out two round objects.

"Hope you enjoy this. I’m a big believer in ’if they throw rocks, throw back a grenade."

thud!

Smoke bombs clinked onto the ground, followed by a loud hiss.

Thick black smoke burst out, rolling across the field like fog off a storm. Visibility dropped fast.

Perfect.

Luck stood up without hesitation, bow already in hand.

He fired his first arrow through the smoke, aiming for the idiot in charge.

"You and your wife can enjoy your honeymoon in hell."

Right between the eyes. The scarred leader never saw it coming.

Luck didn’t stop. He kept pulling back his bowstring, ready for the next shot.

The raiders didn’t expect a response that fast. They scattered, tripping over each other, scrambling for cover.

Then came the return fire—bullets snapping past the wall, hitting nothing.

Luck kept low, shifting spots, already nocking another arrow.

Dima and the others tried to fire their arrows too, but the smoke was too thick.

"Get the guns—now," he commanded.

They grabbed the guns they took from the raiders yesterday and started firing back.

Bullets cracked through the air, some hitting the ground, others finding targets.

Surprisingly, Kana and Luck ended up with the highest kill count. It almost looked like they could see through the smoke.

"Those two are monsters..." Jun muttered, shaking his head in defeat. He always had a feeling she was holding something back.

Kana could feel eyes on her, but she didn’t care.

She kept firing. This wasn’t the time to hide her skills.

Each time she caught movement in the smoke, she fired without hesitation—a skill only possible thanks to her reflexes, second only to Luck’s.

Luck noticed and was glad. It showed she was starting to trust him—and willing to work with him.

"Can’t let my girl outplay me," he muttered, landing another shot. The cry that followed told him it hit the mark.

When the smoke cleared most of the raiders were already too far away to get hit.

"That’s what you get for messing with us," Luck sneered, his eyes cold with contempt.

Guess they missed every action movie ever made—rule one: never fight the guy with the high ground.

"What should we do with the wounded?" Fernando asked.

"Kill them. Don’t waste bullets—use arrows."

Brutal, but needed. To prevent any of them from turning, they made sure to hit the head.

On the ground, Luck stood at the gate.

"Check if anyone’s been hit!"

Geo and Peter did a headcount. Luckily, they hadn’t taken any casualties.

"This isn’t the end. The raiders might hit us again—we need to stay alert."

They all gave a quick nod, understanding what needed to be done.

Once it was done, four people took positions on the towers, using binoculars to scan the area for any threats.

With that settled, he headed back to the motel to get some rest.

’Shit. This just made things more complicated.’

More survivors meant more rewards, but letting just anyone in was risky now. A single spy could ruin everything.

’Hold on... the relationship meter. If someone’s a spy, I’ll know once they’re in. It’ll show right away.’

Of course, there were exceptions—like Kana, who started with a low score because of her background as an assassin.

Still, it was better than being completely in the dark.

.

.

.

Inside the office, he sat on his desk and opened the reward.

Gold light flashed—then faded, revealing a coat folded neatly on top of the box.

Black, sleek, and marked with faint silver patterns that shimmered when they caught the light.

He held it up. "Damn... this looks good."

Luck slipped it on.

Soft on the inside. Cool on the skin. Too comfortable for something made for survival.

[Midnight Coat- Growth Type]

[Grants the wearer the ability to withstand one deadly attack per day. Resets every 24 hours.

[Note: Attacks beyond the mortal scale can still bypass protection.]

"Now that’s more like it."

If he was being honest, he’d been scared back there. All it would’ve taken was one stray bullet—and that would’ve been it.

Now, at least, he had a lifeline. One deadly hit per day.

Sure, the 24-hour reset and the "mortal limit" part weren’t exactly impressive. But realistically, who in this world was casting spells anyway?

As far as he’d seen, no one was throwing fireballs or summoning lightning.

So unless a wizard showed up out of nowhere, the coat was more than enough.

"Let’s see..." He walked over to the mirror and gave himself a once-over.

Yeah—he liked what he saw.

The coat had this Korean drama vibe to it. It flowed down to his knees and opened in the front to show his undershirt.

Stylish without being flashy.

’If I had a green emerald sword right now...’ he muttered, smirking at his reflection. ’I could totally pass as some dual-wielding protagonist.’

All he needed now was a dramatic soundtrack and some slow motion—just before he roared his signature attack and mumbled , ’Faster... I need to be faster!’