━━━━━━ POV ━━━━━━━

In a dark dungeon, a handsome man wearing very plain armor couldn't help but sigh as he glanced at the soon-to-be executed captive.

It didn't fit.

A bandit would never leave his mountain for no reason.

"Captain Jeto, I brought the information you wanted!" A subordinate came running, bringing a stack of papers with him.

The Captain quickly flipped through the information, frowning more and more. He was sure the whole fire, bandits, and strange creatures incident had been a diversion, but for what?

No key location had been attacked, and there weren't that many casualties either. He clicked his tongue in annoyance as he kept reading, his subordinate unsure if he should speak up.

"What is it?"

"S-sir, isn't it good that everything ended well?"

"You're young, and you lack experience, but no. I used to serve in the capital for a short while. There, plotting runs rampant and nothing is as it seems."

"???"

"Fear not the external enemy that will march to your doors with an army. No, schemes in darkness are more deadly. Do you understand?"

"Yes?"

"You see, there's—"

He was suddenly interrupted by the strident blaring of an alarm. — DingDing! DingDing! — This meant a monster attack?! Wait, no… the walls had been breached already!!

What now?! Confusion and Fear took hold of the City. The citizens had just survived a fire, and suddenly this was ringing?!

"Quick! Find the enemies! Where are they?!" Shouts resounded across the streets, soldiers rushing forward.

They courageously braved the dark veil that was progressively engulfing them, reducing visibility. They were ready to die for their City!

But, they soon found themselves at a loss. Where were the enemies?! No matter how much they searched, everything was a little too peaceful.

Luckily, new information came forth:

"Sir, there's been sighing of undead in the crafting district! We have to hurry. They're bound to spread everywhere!"

"Lock the perimeter. Even rats should not be allowed to leave!" The Captain ordered powerfully.

They soon moved in together, ready to "cleanse" some undead with their swords. A few Braves even joined their cause.

"Let's do this! Kill them all! Prove yourself worthy and— WTF?!" They could only stare wide-eyed at the scene that appeared before them.

— Clang! Clang! Clang! —

"…."

"…."

"…."

Many started pinching themselves or their companions, trying to access if they were dreaming. A few shouts of pain later, reality finally set in.

In front of them were plenty of undead: skeletons, zombies, and even ghost-looking ones. Yet this powerful line-up was busy….crafting?!

They swung forging hammers, chiseling picks, and other tools as they busied themselves with production jobs.

No matter how they rubbed their eyes, the scene stayed the same. They would craft one piece after the other tirelessly.

"Wish me luck…." A man moved toward one of them ever so carefully…only to be ignored?!

Desire to Craft > Hunger for Flesh

What had started as an incredibly tense situation had just gone from 100 to 0. Dangerous monsters? Please! Heck, even if they turned hostile now, everything would be fine.

The civilians had been accompanied to safety, the area was surrounded, and this was simply too weird…

"S-sir, what do we do now?" A few couldn't help but ask, perplexed.

They were asking him, but who was he supposed to ask? He was no expert, but the crafters seemed to be diligently working too. Was this event actually a good thing?

"Report to the merchant groups for now!"

"Yes, Sir!"

Thus started the most awkward guard duty of all time. They all remained on high alert, and yet there just wasn't anything else to do.

Snacks were distributed, and many even started joking.

"Kill, marry, sleep with: any of the undead crafters in the room with us, go!"

"Are you kidding me?! How disgusting, just look at them!"

"Tch— You're no fun. It's a game, a game!"

Obviously, a few problems cropped up­. A few Braves used the opportunity to go on a rampage. It seemed as if the bastards had lost their minds as they charged forward.

"Don't stop me! Look at all that juicy XP!" They Shouted over and over while the soldiers carried them away.

It didn't take long for the merchants to arrive, every faction sending men. They arrived as quickly as they had left upon hearing there were undead.

"Oh my god, this is a miracle!"

"Production workers that never tire!!!"

"They're not aggressive in the least either? How marvelous!"

In their eyes, there were $ signs. To them, only profit mattered, and they were absolutely ready to exploit undead labor if they could.

"Be careful. We have no proof that they won't suddenly turn feral." The Captain reminded, only to be ignored.

Lengthy talks were held, the Captain watching over the meeting. Why was there more time spent on how to exploit the undead than how to handle them safely?

Just as they were about to reach a verdict, the crafters who had previously evacuated finally came back. Their eyes opened wide as they witnessed what was happening.

"Father, it's you!"

"Founder?! Only you could be this skillful!"

"Haha, our Little Swallow shop is blessed by the gods!"

They all rejoiced one after the other. Possibly for the first time ever in Infinite, people actually cared for the undead. After all, they were simply working for the City!

Everyone and their mothers clamored for the undead not to be humiliated further, either by freeing them of their undeath or taking care of them.

"Alright, alright, settle down, people! Those who want to put their relatives down can do so now. Others will be put under house arrest until we know more!"

Everyone agreed with that, heavy metallic bars being set up to isolate the dead from the living. Everything was just so perfect!

As for Jack, he was currently hiding. He had heard about the madness currently happening and wanted nothing to do with it!

Exploiting the undead? He could see endless benefits to this. It was something he had done and would do. But even then, he was still a firm believer in Murphy's Law.

Everything was peachy and awesome….until it wasn't.

The livings were under the impression that their dead loved ones had come back to help them. They hadn't, not at all. The dead were back to craft, and nothing else.

What would happen once they were out of materials? The living would soon find out...

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