Surviving the Apocalypse with Crafting Skills

Flamethrower.

Typically, this is an item acquired from warehouses storing military supplies.

However, a Crafter can make one themselves, which sets them apart from other classes. As long as they have the materials, and someone capable of using it, they can possess overwhelming firepower against monsters right from the start.

For example, even if a Sharpshooter gets a high-powered weapon, they often can’t wear heavy armor due to strength limitations, thus avoiding close combat.

Additionally, due to low stamina, they are often forced to fight while sneaking.

For a Crafter, even if their own stats are low, equipping strong allies is all they need.

“Hmm.”

Of course, compared to a military-grade flamethrower, there are limits.

Chiefly, since it’s makeshift with an air pump, the range is relatively short.

Plus, the fuel tank capacity is low.

After all, it’s a makeshift flamethrower.

“…”

Quietly, Sarah approached with a lighter, disassembled it, handed it over, and then blushed furiously before rushing off.

The memories of last night, when she smothered me with her body, came back to me.

No matter how tired, smothering someone with your whole body is a bit much, right?

“Ker-lick, kik, kik.”

After attaching a spark igniter to the lighter, I pulled the trigger step by step.

The first trigger…

“Pooosh.”

It spewed fuel.

The second trigger…

“Tadaaaack.”

Thus, it ignited.

The next step was to confirm the fuel tank was dispensing oil correctly.

And…

“Xuan Woo.”

A voice echoed through the gas mask from my back.

James, wearing rubber gloves on both hands, smelled of oil.

“Napalm is ready. What about the flamethrower?”

“This side has just completed the first prototype.”

Of course, I knew the materials for napalm, but James, who had military service, also understood its manufacturing method.

Styrofoam and gasoline.

In Korea, during violent protest situations, Molotov cocktails with various additives were thrown at the police, wasn’t it?

In the U.S., of course, they literally dumped it in Vietnam.

“So, are you going to test it right away?”

“No, I don’t want to rush things. It’s dangerous, and if it malfunctions, it could explode right here.”

“How do you plan to test it?”

“I intend to fill it with water first. We need to check if there’s any leakage, if it properly pushes out fuel, and if it’s safe while firing.”

After strapping the fuel tank on my back, I headed to the shower.

I filled the fuel tank, left on the ground, with water.

Then I wiped it with a towel.

“Hmm.”

After using three sheets and carefully wiping, I placed it on a dry floor and held a tissue against it.

I carefully pressed around and periodically checked the attached pressure gauge, inspecting every corner.

Fortunately, there was no sign of leakage.

So, it’s time to try firing.

After strapping the fuel tank on my back and standing up…

“Hoouu.”

Is it because I’ve been overworking my body, there’s finally some strength.

There’s no guarantee I can run, but at least I can steady myself.

“Good… then.”

After aiming at the wall, I lightly pulled the first trigger.

“Whaaak. Whaaak.”

Fortunately, the water hit the wall as intended.

Each time the trigger is pulled, a slight recoil is followed by water that eventually empties out.

Watching this, James and Sarah tapped the fuel tank twice, then nodded.

“Honestly, I just might end up making tanks.”

Truly, tank trains weren’t a dream.

That’s the role of a Crafter.

While others modify swords and guns to deal with dangerous creatures inside and outside the bunker, a Crafter handles tank trains, explosive trains, tanks, and can even repair helicopters if resources and knowledge allow.

“Please take this fuel tank to Mr. Matthew. Feel free to use as many towels as you need, but make sure to clean the inside thoroughly. Also, bring the oxygen tanks by the wall for use. It needs to be completely dried.”

“Will we leave after drying?”

“That is the plan.”

Fire-resistant suits could be found where the firefighter’s axe and oxygen tanks were stored.

To prevent them from being bitten and torn, I wound additional strong tape tightly, but eventually, I intended to fix a bulletproof panel.

There’s a helmet with a gas mask and a bulletproof visor too—equipped together it’s like a heavy armored infantryman.

James with his stature might make for an amusing sight.

Hmm, good.

“What are you daydreaming about?”

“Something like that. So, please deliver the fuel tank as soon as possible while I prepare the flamethrower for Curtis.”

“Make it small. Father, while he boasts confidently… at his age, if he twists his back then…”

“Umm, no. Honestly, I intend to make it larger than this one.”

As I handed the flamethrower over, James and Sarah’s expressions turned slightly skeptical.

“Please don’t take it as a joke, Xuan Woo. Father…”

“I get your concern.”

These people…

Who’ve only worked with me for a day or two.

Just then, Sarah turned her head toward me as if recalling something, her eyes half-closed.

“By any chance, that cart and… that empty propane tank?”

“You got it.”

“Er…”

There’s a term called “Big Gun Doctrine”.

A mindset that favors something big and beautiful.

Same goes for flamethrowers.

Since fire can be big and beautiful, it’s ultimately a good thing.

*

“♪♫…”

Humming a tune through the gas mask connected to the oxygen tank, Curtis stubbornly kept pushing the cart by hand.

He seemed very satisfied with it.

“Father, please don’t forget that if the heat is too strong…”

“I know, stop nagging.”

James, equipped with a fire-resistant suit and a gas mask, stood by the log pile.

Following behind them, me and Sarah provided cover.

Just in case, the Newman family was “detained” in the bedroom with food, drink, and warm blankets as an excuse for rest.

“Should we proceed with so many flammable materials? Is that wise?”

Ms. Dieterich was also brought to D-10 zone.

“Let me reiterate, these monsters aren’t that fast. They only wobble when shot.”

“But their size is enough to block this passage?”

“Therefore, we’ll burn them to ashes.”

“I keep telling you. I have a similar mindset with this guy.”

Laughing heartily while enthusiastically pushing the cart, Curtis soon flinched upon hearing the squishing sound of crushed flesh.

“Definitely a mess.”

James, who likely had some idea, gripped the flamethrower tightly and moved forward more confidently.

“Ms. Dieterich.”

“…Preparation is complete.”

Adrenaline syringes secured from packages torn open from the first aid box.

Grasping the sling bag filled with them tightly, Ms. Dieterich nodded.

Of course, if necessary, I might have to inject her first before starting.

“Clunk, chhurk, chu-urk.”

Perhaps because our numbers have increased, the presence was noticed early.

From the opposite side, the ominous stirring sound of “The King of Rats” could soon be heard.

“Ah!?”

“Hmm.”

“Damn, that’s an ugly one even on second look.”

The mental fortitude of the Omen family was certainly above average.

Is it because there are two actual combat veterans?

Despite the first encounter, Curtis and James firmly focused on the target while stabilizing their stance.

The issue was Ms. Dieterich.

“Are those… grotesque monsters supposed to be…?”

“It’s a corpse-eating monster. Usually, it doesn’t grow this large.”

“But, but why are such things underground?”

In a world where parasites create zombies, nothing new.

As her trembling body was immediately injected with an adrenaline syringe, Ms. Dieterich jumped.

“Ayaaa!?”

“Better now?”

“But we agreed not to overuse drugs!”

Judging from her fiery reaction, she didn’t seem about to faint.

After laughing briefly, I immediately checked the two ready positions.

“Curtis?”

“The preparations to spout fire at your signal are complete, lad.”

“James?”

“Getting ready.”

“Sara?”

“Ready.”

After confirming the oxygen tank levels of each,

I stood a distance away from the two, completely covered in fire-resistant suits, and took a deep breath.

“Let’s start.”

With Curtis’s gloved hand tightly turning the valve, a gas sound escaped, followed by oil spewing out as it swirled.

As it splattered and evenly coated the red flesh, “The King of Rats” appeared disoriented, waving its arms.

“Uwwwwaaah, gargh…”

“Don’t make weird sounds, and inhale deeply.”

Adjusting the cart while aiming at the open mouths, Curtis made sure it was filled with oil.

Finally, when the front was fully saturated and darkened,

“Ignition.”

“Ignition!”

After positioning the iron rod with the spark igniter attached into the oil, James pressed the button.

“Tschhooowww aaaah!”

The sound of air being sucked into the flames.

The instant stains created by the flames disappearing, the environment around quickly heated up.

“Ugh!?”

“Kh…”

“Uh!”

Without fire-resistant suits, myself and Sara, along with Ms. Dieterich, let out short gasps.

However, the monster before us…

“!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Without enough oxygen to even scream, the monster began to burn as its arms flailed helplessly.

A massive ball of fire appeared right before our eyes.

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