Surviving the Game as a Barbarian

Chapter 192 Bifron (2)

Bifron (2)

Bifron (2)

Lafdonia.

Once a mere territory, it transformed into humanity's last bastion after the apocalypse, a sanctuary where survivors from across the continent gathered.

This fortress city comprised 14 distinct districts.

First, the 1st District, Karnon, the Imperial City.

Home to the royal family, nobles, and the privileged elite. Its defining characteristic: commoners couldn't even set foot there without special permission.

Districts 2 through 5 formed Commelby.

Commonly known as the Free Market, this commercial zone sprawled around the outskirts of the Imperial City. Master craftsmen and thriving businesses were concentrated here.

Occupying the largest area of the city, it housed a staggering 70% of the city's population. Each district boasted a Dimensional Plaza, where portals to the labyrinth opened monthly.

Finally, the 14th District, Bifron.

Unlike the 6th District, Gnometree, which was designated a special zone during the city's initial planning, Bifron's story was different. Originally part of Ravigion, it was now a restricted area, its Dimensional Plaza long gone.

Rumble!

The gate to Bifron creaked open.

To admit another inmate.

"What are you waiting for? Get inside."

"...Is that all?"

"You already heard the explanation, didn't you? As long as you don't try to escape, you can do whatever you want."

The knight who escorted me here turned away, clearly eager to leave this place.

Thud!

The gate slammed shut, and only then did I turn to survey my surroundings.

"The Holding Pen..."

Living up to its nickname, the atmosphere here was starkly different from other ordinary districts.

Would the 7th District, my current residence, look like this after a century of neglect?

Dilapidated buildings stood in disrepair, their walls marred with grime and graffiti.

The streets were no different.

Debris was piled haphazardly.

'Tsk, I have to spend 20 days here?'

I started walking aimlessly, not wanting to just stand there in front of the gate.

Wary gazes followed me.

The residents, or rather, the inmates of this district, watched me with hungry eyes. They were gaunt figures, their bones protruding beneath ragged clothing.

Smirk.

I couldn't help but laugh.

What would the 21st-century modern man, Lee Hansu, have done?

He would have surely cowered under their scrutiny.

Their gazes were filled with greed, a stark contrast to the indifference he was accustomed to. He would have been desperate to find a place to hide, unable to utter a word.

But...

"What are you looking at?"

I was now a barbarian of this era, standing over two meters tall, my muscular body clad in heavy armor.

I could turn these weaklings into mush in minutes, even if dozens of them attacked.

"Behel—laaaaaaaaaa!!"

I even unleashed [Wild Release] to emphasize my confidence, and the residents who were watching me from hiding lowered their gazes and went about their business.

"It's okay! I won't eat you!"

I laughed heartily, almost theatrically, and continued walking.

"Wh, why did he suddenly shout...?"

"...He must be crazy, coming all the way here."

"He's a lunatic. It's better to stay away from him."

Those words drifted faintly from various corners.

It was the reaction I was hoping for.

I didn't want to be bothered by flies.

'Geez, this feels like I'm back in the beginner zone.'

I was quite worried about this place, which was called a lawless zone.

Well, to be precise, Misha was the one who was worried.

But now I'm certain.

A lawless zone is a place where the strong rule, and it can be more comfortable than a society with laws, depending on the situation.

'I can just think of it as a vacation.'

My barbarian body, sensitive to the natural order, had already sensed it.

That I wouldn't face many inconveniences here.

That's when, as I was walking aimlessly and observing the surroundings...

"Hey, newbie mister!"

...a child, about ten years old, boldly blocked my path.

I asked to confirm,

"Have you been following me since the gate?"

"No? I just saw you."

"But how did you know I'm a newbie?"

"Because I've never seen you before. Word spreads quickly when someone like you arrives."

It's an answer that makes sense, considering the weaklings surrounding us.

"What do you want?"

I lower my voice, mindful of my surroundings.

However, the child is bold and speaks clearly without avoiding my gaze.

"You haven't found a place to stay yet since it's your first day, right? I'll guide you. I might look like this, but I'm a local who was born and raised here."

In short, he's offering to be my guide.

Of course, it won't be free.

He wouldn't have dared to stand in front of a giant barbarian just to volunteer.

"What's your fee?"

"Just 100 stones."

It's a paltry sum, as if he missed a zero.

"Alright. Lead the way."

The child readily agrees and takes the lead, saying he'll take me to the best place in the neighborhood.

I ask him various questions as we walk.

Although I read a few books about Bifron at the library, it would be arrogant to assume that I know everything about this place just from that.

First, a personal question.

"Were you born here?"

"Yes."

"Your parents?"

"They're dead."

"No, I meant were they also born here?"

The child seems reluctant to answer, but he kneels before the power of money.

"I'll give you another 100 stones."

"...Only my mother. I heard my father came from outside."

"For what crime?"

"...Possession and distribution of subversive materials. I'm telling you now because I know you'll ask, but it was a book about whether the taxes we pay to the royal family are justified."

"He was a thinker."

It's not a surprising fact.

The nickname 'Holding Pen' that's attached to Bifron came about because they exiled those who spread negative rumors about the royal family.

You're so dissatisfied?

Then try living in a place where the law doesn't apply.

It's basically exile based on that logic, and it's a very clever move from the royal family's perspective.

They can get rid of dissidents and solidify their legitimacy.

It's much more beneficial than execution.

"How old are you?"

"Eleven."

"You can leave in three years."

"If I pass the qualification test."

I tilt my head.

"Qualification test? I heard you can leave when you turn fourteen."

"You only heard half of it. Only a select few who show talent in any field can be pardoned. Although I said any field, most people aim for the explorer path. It's easier, and they recruit more people..."

"Are you also aiming for the explorer path?"

"No. I'm a scholar."

A scholar...

No wonder he's so articulate. It seems like he hasn't given up on learning even in this environment.

"You're an explorer, right, mister? How did you end up here?"

The child then asks me a question.

It seems like he feels it's unfair that only he's answering questions.

"I'll tell you if you take 100 stones off your fee."

"It's not even that much money..."

"An explorer never loses, even a small amount of money."

"Oh, so you really are an explorer?"

It's a cute prank.

However, as if belatedly realizing that he might be harmed, the child quickly continues,

"Okay, I'll take less. So tell me why you're here."

"I made a minor mistake in the city. They told me to live here for 20 days."

"20 days..."

Could it be that it's an incredibly short time from the perspective of someone who's lived here all his life?

The child bites his lip and falls silent for a moment.

And then he asks one more thing.

"What grade were you, mister?"

It's personal information that I don't really want to share.

"That wasn't the question, was it? Forget about the 100 stones. Just answer my questions properly from now on."

I cut him off firmly, like a cowardly adult, and change the topic.

Things like the cost of living in Bifron, its social structure, and so on, things that are hard to grasp just from books.

The child, as a local, answers all my questions without much difficulty, and there's one thing that's particularly interesting.

The source of their food.

"The royal family distributes food every month?"

"Yes. But the powerful people take it all and use it like a currency."

I don't care about the thugs he's talking about.

As long as people are involved, there will always be a hierarchy, even at the bottom.

What caught my attention was something else.

"This place is so ironic."

"Yes?"

"Never mind."

I'm suddenly more interested in Bifron.

It feels like there's a more interesting story behind how one of the city districts that was fine in the game ended up like this.

"We're here."

After some more conversation, we arrive at the inn the child mentioned.

The 1st floor is a bar, and the 2nd floor is for lodging, a common type of establishment you can find anywhere in the city.

Don't these places usually get taken over by thugs?

'He said it was the best place.'

I chuckle and open the door to the inn, which looks like it's infested with bugs.

Creak.

Unexpectedly, there are quite a few people inside.

Sturdy-looking men and women in shabby clothes, drinking.

Clang.

A rusty bell rings with a dull sound, and everyone inside turns their gaze towards me.

The emotions in their eyes are diverse.

Wary, bewildered, curious, greedy.

I ignore them all and approach the counter.

"Bartender, how much for a night?"

"50 stones."

Again, it's a price that's as if he missed a zero.

"And a meal?"

"250 stones."

"250 stones..."

Although they're both pocket change to me, actually experiencing it makes me realize the difference from the outside world.

The cost of food is five times higher than the cost of housing.

It's a price you can't even imagine in Lafdonia, where the housing shortage is severe.

"I'll stay for one night."

"And food?"

"Give it to me now."

"Payment upfront."

I pay 300 stones, including the room fee, and sit down.

"Then I'll be going, mister."

"You haven't received your money yet."

"Ah, right!"

I give the child, who's making a surprised expression, 1,000 stones.

"I, I don't have any change..."

"Keep the change, come sit next to me."

"Yes?"

"Be my companion until the food arrives."

The child, who was looking at me with a strange gaze, organizes his thoughts and sits down. And he answers all my questions one by one.

Time passes, and...

"Here's your order."

...the long-awaited food arrives.

There's no meat, just bread and a bowl of white soup.

"Then I'll be..."

I grab the child's arm as he's about to get up.

"Sit down."

"Yes? But you said only until the food arrives..."

Geez, does he really think barbarians are idiots?

I repeat myself, adding a bit of killing intent,

"Sit down."

The child shuts his mouth and sits back down, sensing the heavy atmosphere.

Although he's pretending not to, I can feel him trembling from afar.

I take a big spoonful of soup.

And...

"Eat."

"Yes?"

"Eat."

"Th, thank you, but I'm not hungry..."

Right, that's how it is.

"I'll give you 10,000 stones if you eat it."

I make an offer he can't refuse.

Then what choice will he make?

The answer is simple.

"...Pl, please spare me."

As expected of a child who was born and raised in this environment, he's quick-witted.

___________________

There were two reasons why I was able to see through the child's trick.

[Have you been following me since the gate?]

[No? I just saw you.]

First, he lied nonchalantly to a question I asked to confirm.

Well, he lied well, but...

I'm a bit confident in my memory.

He was loitering around from the moment the gate first opened.

[Just 100 stones.]

Second, he asked for a ridiculously low fee.

It's strange.

Even tourist traps are full of people trying to rip you off. But this child, and even the innkeeper, didn't even try to overcharge me.

Of course, it could be just a coincidence...

"...Pl, please spare me."

...but the child kneels instead of eating.

I'm not surprised since I expected it.

The tricks these people use lack creativity.

'Geez, if you're going to backstab someone, at least do it discreetly.'

I get up, overturning the meal I wouldn't have eaten anyway.

I was originally going to ask him who his accomplices were, but...

It seems unnecessary.

"Stop right there."

I speak, looking at them sneaking towards the exit.

It's a friendly attempt at conversation, something I rarely do.

But unfortunately, the four of them, including the bartender, just run away faster.

"Damn it!"

"Run!!"

I click my tongue bitterly, looking at their retreating figures.

Come on, do they think that would work?

"Aak!"

I grab the child with one hand.

And I quickly go outside, activate [Gigantification] as usual, push off the ground, and use [Leap].

Kwaaang!

My body, crossing dozens of meters in an instant, slams into the ground. The four of them are thrown into the air by the [Recoil] effect.

"Behel—laaaaaaaaaa!!"

I also use [Wild Release], and the four of them can't even think of getting up and running away.

Kwagic.

I crush one of their legs each to prevent them from escaping.

It's broad daylight.

And I did it in the middle of the street, but who cares? This is a lawless zone.

And besides, there are no guards who would come running just because I used an ability.

"Ack, aak!!!"

Did they finally come to their senses?

A man with a rat-like face shouts mechanically,

"We, we're members of the Western Union!"

The Western Union is one of the four gangs that control Bifron.

I heard their boss is an explorer?

So his rank is...

"If, if you let us go quietly, we won't retaliate—"

What is he talking about?

Kwagic.

I crush his other leg because he's being noisy.

Could it be that he's become more desperate?

"Our, our boss is a 6th-grade explorer!!"

He shouts at the top of his lungs, despite his pained screams.

I can't help but tilt my head.

"Our boss? What do you mean?"

The man tilts his head in confusion as I ask sharply.

He seems to have no idea what I'm talking about. I smile kindly and bend down, patting his head.

"From now on, I'm your boss."

I've always wanted to have underlings.

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