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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Xrecker
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He hadn’t realized archers were Strength-based.
In the few RPG games he’d played, they were always Agility-based.
In historical dramas, archers never seemed to struggle; they just shot smoothly and effortlessly.
He never would have guessed it was such a Strength-demanding weapon.
Twang! Slap!
“Ouch!”
He released the bowstring, and the bow twisted, smacking his forearm.
Damn it!
That stung!
He looked at his forearm; a red welt had formed.
He’d have to pay close attention to his posture.
Otherwise, he might injure himself.
How was he supposed to do this?
He grabbed the bow again and drew the string.
This time, he firmly gripped the bow.
He put strength into both hands!
He straightened his back!
…Oh, this was uncomfortable, dammit.
His posture felt wrong.
There was an instruction booklet on the desk.
On the cover, a middle-aged man was drawing back a bow with an arrow nocked.
…He was supposed to raise his elbow higher?
Like this?
…Oh, this was uncomfortable, crazy.
He plucked the string a few times, then picked up an arrow from the pile on the table and nocked it.
And drew the string.
“Ugh, dammit.”
The arrowhead wobbled all over the place.
It wasn’t steady on the bow; it swayed like a drunkard.
He also had to pay attention to the fingers holding the string.
He slowly released the string, carefully positioned the arrow between his fingers, nocked it onto the bow, and drew the string.
…This felt a little better.
He needed to practice this.
A bow, really, how did people in the past use this as a weapon?
This was a weapon a beginner couldn’t possibly handle.
He would need a lot of practice to use it properly.
He grabbed a handful of arrows and went outside.
He found a spot among the corpses and dropped the arrows at his feet.
Since he was here, he might as well practice.
Okay, draw!
Release!
Twang.
Thwack.
“Damn it.”
The arrow danced a jig in the air before falling to the ground, and the bowstring made a strange twanging sound like tap shoes.
“This is driving me crazy.”
Seriously.
He knew the True Strike skill guaranteed headshots.
But to get a headshot, he had to be able to actually shoot the damn projectile.
He couldn’t blame the skill for not working if the arrow did a twist in the air and then plopped onto the ground.
He needed to practice.
He decided to practice properly, went back inside, and brought out a large pile of arrows.
Then he noticed several quivers inside the wooden basket containing the arrows.
The quivers were mostly made of sturdy leather.
He inserted an arrow, and he could feel the inside gripping the shaft and holding it in place.
Even when he turned the quiver upside down, the arrow didn’t fall out.
Ooh. This was good.
“Ah, right.”
The Projectile Duplication Band.
The feather band!
He unwrapped the feather band from his scabbard.
Practice was practice, but he needed to secure arrows first. Otherwise, there was no point.
How was he supposed to use this?
He picked up an arrow and tried to wrap the band around it.
It slipped off.
Even though the feather band curled up, it didn’t curl tightly enough to grip something as thin as an arrow. It curled to about the size of a circle made with his thumb and index finger.
It wasn’t enough to wrap around an arrow.
…Should he just leave it?
He placed the arrow inside the curled-up feather band and picked up the Gakgung again.
Okay, time to practice.
Twang. Thwack.
Twang. Thud.
Click.
Damn, it wasn’t working.
Sometimes the arrow would somersault in the air.
He had to keep trying until he got it right.
First, he had to get his posture right.
He held the arrow’s fletching and shaft between his index and middle fingers.
He nocked the arrow onto the bow.
He put strength into both hands.
He supported the arrow with his fingers.
He drew the string.
“Haa…”
The bow bent into a reverse C-shape.
He aimed at the target and released the string.
Whoosh!
With the sound of cutting through the air, it hit the target.
Of course, it didn’t hit the bullseye.
It barely stuck in the edge of the target.
But…
“Ooh… Damn…”
The thrill…!
He hadn’t realized how satisfying it would be to see the arrow fly and thud into the target.
He was overcome with emotion for a moment, then shook his head and picked up another arrow.
He’d only managed one decent shot.
He had to be able to hit the target with every shot.
Practice, practice.
He continued shooting for about an hour.
Thanks to the HP achievement skill, his arms and back felt warm, but he wasn’t particularly tired.
And he was getting better at shooting.
It was fun.
Excitedly shooting arrows, he suddenly remembered the feather band and looked to his side.
His feather band.
What had happened to it?
“…………”
It was just as he’d left it.
An arrow inside the curled-up feather band.
It was called a duplication band, so it should duplicate the arrow.
But he didn’t know how to use it…
He tilted his head and picked up the feather band.
“…This is crazy.”
He slapped it against his forearm.
It wrapped around his arm with a snap.
Slap. Snap.
Slap. Snap.
“…Hmm.”
It wrapped…
It had wrapped around the scabbard too.
He looked at the quiver.
…It would probably wrap around that as well.
He picked up the relatively thick and sturdy quiver and slapped the feather band against it.
Snap.
It wrapped around perfectly.
It looked like a bracelet.
There was one arrow inside the quiver from before.
He set the quiver aside and resumed his archery practice.
Whoosh! Thud!
The sound of cutting through the air…!
It was a very faint, small popping sound, but he could definitely hear it.
Each arrow brought a thrill.
He was having so much fun shooting that he was lost in it, no, he was practicing.
Another hour had passed.
He looked at the quiver in surprise.
There were four arrows in it.
“…Amazing.”
Four arrows.
That meant three arrows per hour…
So…
How many arrows a day?
72 arrows?
72 free arrows!
“Amazing.”
He was happy.
Overjoyed.
He picked up the quiver and tapped it lightly in his excitement.
But wait.
This… could only hold about ten arrows at most.
Maybe twenty if he really crammed them in.
He looked around.
Was there a bigger quiver that could hold more arrows, not this flat one?
There was.
A round, cylindrical quiver.
It could probably hold thirty-something arrows if he filled it completely.
He gathered the arrows scattered on the floor and put them into the cylindrical quiver.
35 arrows.
35 arrows…
He nodded and smiled.
Not bad.
He should take a few quivers, just in case he needed to store arrows.
Two cylindrical quivers.
And one flat quiver.
He took these three and filled them with arrows.
Even though they duplicated, it was human nature to want to take as much as possible when it was available.
That made 80 arrows.
He could use them quite freely.
It would probably still not be enough, but looking at the quivers filled with arrows made him feel content.
They were quite heavy.
Without the HP achievement skill, he wouldn’t have been able to carry all this.
He set the three quivers aside and used the remaining arrows for practice.
He shot them at the targets, at the impact-absorbing material, and even at the ceiling and floor for fun.
Interestingly, the traditional target made of woven straw…
And the metal bucket next to it.
Judging by the mop handle sticking out of it, it seemed to have been used for cleaning.
Three arrows were stuck in it.
They had pierced right through.
From front to back, fletchings and all.
Piercing through heads wouldn’t be a problem.
After shooting all the arrows and feeling somewhat proficient, he collected all the arrows stuck in the targets and around the room, dumped them into the wooden basket, and gathered his bow and arrows.
He took five bows in total.
He didn’t know who would use them, but they would be useful for self-defense.
He took all the remaining arrows for the same reason, aside from the ones he would use himself.
Even if they duplicated, he didn’t feel right giving away duplicated arrows when he didn’t have enough for himself.
He slung the compound bow, Gakgung, and other bows over his shoulder, attached a strap to the quivers, and carried them on his back.
He hugged the wooden basket filled with quivers and left the traditional archery center.
“I had a good shopping trip today.”
He’d acquired a whole arsenal without spending a penny.
He felt satisfied.
He took the elevator down and left the building, and the sun was already setting.
Oh, the sunset was beautiful.
As he watched it, he saw something in the sky.
…It was a plane.
A light aircraft, it seemed.
It was flying quite low.
He caught his breath.
There were still…
There were still people.
But… it was strange.
Something was falling…
Like the plane was… urinating in the sky…
It was a strange sight.
He narrowed his eyes and looked at the distant sky.
It seemed to be scattering something.
Paper?
“What are they doing…”
He watched for a long time, but he couldn’t figure it out.
It was definitely scattering something.
But he couldn’t tell from this distance whether it was paper, snacks, relief supplies, or something else.
It looked dark because of the sunset.
…It was too far to check.
It would probably take him at least a day or two to get there.
He needed to go back.
He went down to Cheonggyecheon and retraced his steps.
He saw the dead bird.
…Disgusting.
He walked past the bird.
The water in Cheonggyecheon was quite clear.
Small fish.
“…………”
Small… fish.
He looked back.
The dead bird.
If the bird had turned into a Malignant Entity, then other animals must have also become Malignant Entities.
That was the logical conclusion.
He stood there, looking down at the fish for a moment.
Were these creatures Malignant Entities too?
Killifish or whatever they were, fish whose names he didn’t care about, were swimming around in the water.
If they were Malignant Entities, they would react to him.
He put down the wooden basket and crouched by the water’s edge.
The tiny fish, barely the size of his finger joints, swam around, seemingly oblivious to his presence.
He dipped his hand into the water.
If they were Malignant Entities, they would probably have grown teeth, like the bird.
And if they were Malignant Entities, they would definitely react to him.
They would try to bite him.
Like the human beasts.
Would they jump out of the water and try to bite his hand?
He didn’t care if they bit him.
He could just crush these insignificant creatures, and he was immune to Evil.
He moved his hand around in the water, but the fish remained indifferent.
He plunged his fingers into the water.
The fish darted away.
…Darted away?
He tilted his head.
It didn’t make sense for a Malignant Entity to run away from a living creature, did it?
He submerged his entire hand.
And waited.
Nothing happened.
The fish just swam around, keeping their distance from his hand.
“…………”
Accelerate.
[Auto-cast: Accelerate]
The flow of the water slowed.
The gentle ripples looked like jelly swaying in the wind.
He caught a fish and lifted it out of the water in his palm.
He looked closely at its mouth…
It was so small he could barely see anything.
It didn’t seem to have any teeth.
Accelerate wore off.
Flop, flop.
The fish…
Was just behaving like a normal fish.
It thrashed around, unable to breathe.
No matter how he looked at it, the fish didn’t seem to have changed.
He looked back and forth between the dead bird and the fish.
What was the difference?
Aside from size, there was no difference, they were both living creatures…
…Was it the size?
Was there a size requirement to become a Malignant Entity?
Flop, flop.
The fish continued to dance in his hand.
It didn’t try to bite him.
Indeed, it hadn’t changed.
He tossed the fish back into the stream and stood up.
And he looked up at the sky.
There were no birds in the sky.
…Come to think of it, since the apocalypse began…
He hadn’t heard a single bird sing.
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Thanks for the chappie