妈妈的朋友5中文版完整版免费观看

Gyeoul observed a bulletin board placed on the hallway’s wall. The first thing that he noticed was a torn-out, bloodstained notice. It seemed like someone—or something—had ripped it off with a bloodied hand.

Gyeoul had been searching for this kind of clues since entering the school grounds. The reason was that whenever he collected them, his skill 「Insight」 updated the information he had of possible survivors and the odds of finding them. Thanks to this skill, he had collected the photos and names of the school personnel and the approximate number of students currently inside the school.

“This is kind of… unique for a school logo,” said Jinseok, looking at the school logo engraved on the bulletin board—a roaring leopard inside a red circle with a black border.

“Is it really? I mean, doesn’t Korea University have a similar one? The one with the tiger,” Jaejoong asked, tilting his head.

“Oh, that’s true.”

While the two were indulging in idle talk, Gyeoul put an end to his deliberation and arrived at a conclusion.

“Looks like the kids are still alive somewhere, but they’re definitely not in this building.”

There were a lot of mutants inside the school, so many as to have at least one mutant in each classroom, but none of them were teenagers.

“There’s just too many buildings to search… Say, how about we all spread out?”

“No, that’s too dangerous,” Gyeoul responded almost immediately.

Dispersing to probe unknown areas. It was the worst possible course of action. It would drastically reduce the time needed for searching, but the chances of coming to harm were also bound to increase. Considering the number of mutants they had faced so far and how inexperienced his teammates were, it was easy to estimate what would happen if they did. And if they incurred casualties, he would face a penalty for failing to keep his promise.

The other problem was Combat Fatigue. Combat Fatigue couldn’t just be ignored even if one avoided combat altogether, as it would also slowly accumulate during times of danger, fear, or in any kind of stress-inducing situation.

“Let’s go. We should first take a look at the cafeteria or the gym.”

“Well, alright. But why?”

“Those are the best places for a large group of people to gather. And the cafeteria also has a food storage room.”

“Ah…”

Yura and Jaejoong slowly nodded in agreement, but Jinseok seemed quite unsatisfied with his decision. Gyeoul pretended not to see it.

Upon finding a map of the school on the bulletin board, Gyeoul located their current position and placed his finger on the map. “The gym is closer than the cafeteria,” Gyeoul said, using his finger to trace the shortest routes to both destinations.

Whichever one they chose, they had to exit the current building through the back entrance and go across the courtyard in order to get there. Considering the courtyard was an open area with many structures that could block their view, they might get surrounded by a swarm of mutants. Gyeoul wanted to take the other way round and avoid taking such risk, but they didn’t have much time to spare.

“Now, we’re gonna get moving, but since we’ll be going through an open area, we’ll have to watch all four sides while moving. I’ll be taking the lead, so I’m gonna have to ask you, Jinseok, to watch our left, Yura the right, and Jaejoong the rear.”

As they approached the exit, five mutants came rushing in from the outside, breaking through a window on the right. “Grraah!”

However, as soon as one of the mutants let out a groan, a barrage of bullets immediately rained down upon the mutants from the three automatic rifles, shredding the mutants to pieces within seconds.

‘Such a waste of bullets…’

Gyeoul swung the unused machete a few times before sliding it back to its place. He pondered for a second whether he should be angry or not, but he decided against it. ‘It’s not the time yet,’ he thought.

“I understand you’re anxious, but please, stick to your assigned positions. We could get ambushed from other sides if we all fire in one direction.”

The three of them cleared their throat in embarrassment, all at the same time. The coincidence made their faces even redder.

As soon as Gyeoul’s team stepped outside, they were greeted by yet another group of mutants. “I’ll handle them.” With that short sentence, Gyeoul drew both his pistol and his machete, one in each hand.

Gyeoul first pulled the trigger, shooting off some of the mutants’ heads. Then he charged towards the rest of the mutants to focus their attention on him. The boy swung his machete, aiming for a mutant’s neck. Snikt! The blade cut right into the mutant’s throat, but it couldn’t cut all the way through as it was deterred by the mutant’s spine. Wrinkling his brows, Gyeoul quickly spun his body as he relaxed his wrist and the knife came right out as it slashed the rotten flesh. With the spinning momentum, he swiftly slew the next mutant, and then stomped on the ground to slice the third one from bottom-up.

The last one, however, was already so close that it got ahold of his arm before he could pull it back. However, Gyeoul composedly raised his pistol and pulled the trigger in front of its rotting face. A small copper projectile penetrated its unfocused eyeball and mangled its brain. The mutant slid down against the boy and fell helplessly onto the ground.

After killing all the mutants, Gyeoul took a look behind. Unsurprisingly, his teammates were all staring blankly at him, leaving their guard duty neglected. They had made zero progress since his scolding. It was only when the boy looked into their eyes that they hurriedly turned their gaze away. But as the boy’s eyes remained fixed on them, Yura slowly turned towards Gyeoul with teary eyes.

“I’m sorry…” said Yura, sobbing.

Gyeoul once again thought if he should blame them for this mistake, but this time he couldn’t come up with the decision easily. It wasn’t because of Yura’s crying, but rather because of a certain outcome that his actions could bring. As if to answer his thoughts, the Control AI displayed a help message.

「AI Advice (lvl 8): When passing down skills to other characters, the nature of the instructor plays an important role in its efficiency. Violent coercion allows for rapid acquisition of skills during the initial stages, while tenacious leniency does in the later stages. This is also true in a community setting. While these two methods have their own opposite merits, it is also very important to know that violence may be disastrous towards the relationship between the instructor and the instructed.」

In brief, it was telling Gyeoul to choose whether or not to make his teammates learn quickly right now at the cost of their relationship. Having set his mind, Gyeoul tried to smile as softly as possible. It was hard for the boy who had a cold childhood to forge a positive emotion on his face, but he had been practicing for this kind of situation.

“Don’t be sorry. I know you’re trying.”

Thankfully, his effort didn’t seem to be fruitless, as he was rewarded with small upward revisions to favor.

The auditorium was a stone-built structure—or that’s what it appeared to be from far away. It was just another concrete building. There was a strong smell of excrement coming from somewhere. It was a trace of living humans.

The front gate was an ordinary glass door but was completely blocked by a wall of desks and chairs.

“If there are any survivors in this school, it should be here.”

“Yeah. This can’t have been made by just one or two people.”

“Should we clear it out?”

“No, that would be a waste of energy, and we don’t even have the time for that. I’m sure there’s another door to the gym, like an emergency exit.”

And indeed, there was another door leading inside. Soon after their search began, they heard a constant banging noise coming somewhere afar. Upon following the noise, they found a crowd of mutants banging against a steel door. Despite the relentless assault from the mutants, the door remained unscathed, only to be daubed with their rotten blood.

“That’s quite a lot,” Gyeoul said without lowering his volume. His loud voice caused the rest of the team members to shrink from fright.

“Hey! Your voice! Your voice!”

“It’s all right. Do you think they can hear my voice when they’re banging this loudly?”

“Uhm… that’s true.”

“Whew…” As if on cue, the three of them let out a sigh in unison, which made Gyeoul chuckle.

Gyeoul took out his pistol and equipped it with the suppressor.

“We’ll do a practice round just like what we did before. This time, we’ll all fire all at once. Try to aim for the ear or temple. Even if you miss, don’t freak out, just take your time and aim again. There’s no need to hurry. Jinseok-ssi, take the rear guard for us, will you?”

Gyeoul raised his right arm to his shoulder and placed his left hand under the gun’s grip. This was a posture called palm-supported grip. This kind of grip’s disadvantage was that the non-firing hand did not help mitigate the recoil, so the shooter’s accuracy was bound to be lower when firing in rapid succession. Of course, it also had a very clear advantage. It was that the arm grasping the gun could be stretched in a straight line, which made it easier to hit the target when firing single shots.

Before long, Yura pulled the trigger and that became a sign for the rest of them to begin firing. Each time a low and dull gunshot shot out of a muzzle, the head of what had once been a human got smashed into pieces.

One of the mutants survived a shot. Its eyeball was hanging by a few fleshy threads from its socket. Watching the disgusting sight, Yura jerked her head behind and began heaving.

The gruesome sight caused Yura to be unable to continue shooting. Thankfully, not many mutants remained, so the rest were easily handled by Gyeoul and Jaejoong.

With nothing in her stomach to throw up, Yura raised her head after coughing a few times. She had a grim expression on her face. It wasn’t terror or shock, it was more like hatred. Hatred towards herself for showing such a sorry figure. The boy, who had spent years walking on eggshells, knew that kind of feeling, thus, he asked her as kindly as he could, “Are you all right?”

“I’m sorry I’m always letting you down. I shouldn’t have followed you if I knew I’d be this useless…”

“Hey, nobody’s perfect. We all make mistakes. What’s important is not to repeat the same mistake. Now, let’s get up and get going.”

Gyeoul then extended his hand towards Yura to aid her in getting up and patiently waited for her.

“You know, I think you should be more confident in yourself. You were the first person to volunteer for such a dangerous task. So don’t put on such a long face. You deserve to be proud of yourself.”

“Haha, stop it… You’re making me more embarrassed,” said Yura, as she took Gyeoul’s hand.

However, Jinseok was wearing a displeased look. He must have thought that Yura was becoming too much of a nuisance for this mission. It wasn’t as if his annoyance was unfounded, but now was not the right time to express it. If Yura saw his expression, it could plunge her into a deep depression.

Gyeoul sent Jinseok an admonishing look. Jinseok persistently glared Yura for a few more seconds before eventually turning away.

Yura might be a hindrance at the moment, and she might not become proficient in combat even after going through training. But her mental strength, honed with these experiences, was definitely going to be of great help in whichever role she carried on in the future within the community.

Gyeoul’s mind recalled a certain story.

A very long time ago, when predators used to intrude inside human territory, people who raised sheep used to mix goats within the herds. This was because when a herd was attacked by a wolf, the sheep tended to scatter in all directions. However, when there was a goat present, the sheep would flock around the goat, and the wolves would fear attacking the sheep that were tightly gathered together. A clever wolf that knew about this, attacked the goat first before going for the sheep. It was the story of a wolf named Robo, the King of Currumpaw.

Gyeoul believed that Yura could become ‘the goat mixed within the sheep’. Given that interaction among members of a community could also bring about certain benefits, the effort he was pouring on her wasn’t meaningless. Yet the viewers didn’t seem to agree with his actions. When Gyeoul saw the exploding number of messages he was getting notified of, he paused the game and opened the message log.

What greeted Gyeoul was a message log overrun with complaints about Yura. Some were even spamming vulgar messages, saying 「Just fuck her and ditch her already!」. Gyeoul had to spend quite a long time justifying his choice.

The boy headed straight for the door as soon as he unpaused the game. He kicked away some of the bodies lying on the ground and stood in front of the door. With his fist, he knocked on the steel door three times in short intervals, three times in long intervals, and again, three times in short intervals—a signal that was widely known around the world, it was the morse code for SOS. Of course, he wasn’t asking for help. It was just to let the people inside know that it was a person knocking on the door.

After repeating it a few more times, a reply came back.

“Wh-who’s there?”

“We received a radio transmission from a group of students and teachers requesting help.”

“Oh, thank god!”

Following the elated voice, the door opened.