Chapter 105
Chapter 105
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 105
Chapter Title: Chapter 7 Masquerade Ball (21)
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***
Thud thud thud!
“Pant, pant! Damn it, I’m starving, I’m gonna die!”
No matter how he thought about it, GG was an educational game that was perfect for wasteland life.
‘At some point, I started separating pain from movement!’
Having endured play sessions that were practically torture, the Professor had reached a point where he was somewhat numb to real-world pain as well.
“Goddamn it! Getting used to pain! It pisses me off! And the caravan’s even named BDSM! It fits way too well!”
The place the Professor arrived at, sprinting at full speed, was the garage of the Oversight Bureau that he’d left not long ago.
The inside of the garage, pitch black without a single light unlike when he’d exited, was faintly illuminated only by the blinking red emergency light, outlining its contours.
‘No time. An exosuit without city support will crumble just from being pinned down.’
A standard exosuit’s operational limit was about 35 to 40 minutes. In full combat with shields at max output like now, it dropped to 15 minutes. Factoring in 40 seconds shaved off per anti-tank round that hit the shield, that seemed about right.
‘The Raptors set this up, so they’ve probably planned for the aftermath too. The exosuit units won’t be able to move easily.’
Ian. And Vex.
As he retraced the internal layout of the Oversight Bureau that he’d quickly scanned during his visit to the armory, he let out a sigh for the umpteenth time without realizing it.
‘The Oversight Bureau folks will act as meat shields, so with some luck, we might punch into enemy lines. They had enough firepower to exploit weak points. But after that? What the hell was he planning to do charging in there alone?’
The thought to stop Ian the moment he bolted had crossed his mind. But right as the words to halt were about to leave his throat, the image of Vex isolated inside flashed up, clamping his mouth shut.
In that moment of hesitation, Ian had charged out like a madman, leaving the Professor to enter the blacked-out Dome alone.
‘...Trust them. They’re not ordinary guys anyway. Assuming they’re holding out alive, I’ll do my part.’
He dashed out of the Oversight Bureau building and through the Dome’s streets, silent as the grave. Dome residents didn’t panic or flee when chaos erupted outside. They just hunkered down in their homes, praying for the moment to pass. Docile livestock tamed by peace.
With eyes growing accustomed to the dark, the Professor pieced together the surroundings.
‘Smashed pavement, snapped streetlights. An exosuit platoon charging through would do that much easily. That direction... Underdome. Ralph must’ve ordered them straight there to guard the generators. That one building flashing blue is the Admin Building.’
The Administration handled the Dome’s budget, resident issues, laws, and more, but their most critical role was overseeing ‘research.’ In emergencies, the Admin Building sealed itself off completely, activating independent defenses to protect the research inside. Buying time to destroy it all if needed.
‘Of course, they could shut it off anytime, but leaving it on means they’re cowering inside, huh?’
Or maybe they had something in there they couldn’t hand over to the Raptors even if the Dome fell. There were two other Dome cities besides this one, after all.
The further he followed the trail, the more devastated the streets became. Building exteriors riddled with holes like Swiss cheese—pulse rifle traces. Structures smashed as if by iron clubs—exosuits, probably.
Naturally, the same marks scarred the corpses scattered amid the wreckage. Bodies in civilian clothes rather than uniforms, mangled in ways that would turn even the Professor’s seasoned stomach.
And beyond an iron door melted like by a massive welder lay the path down to the Underdome.
Three exosuits lay toppled before it.
‘Survivors... none...’
The Professor approached a corpse inside a suit and checked its neck. Still warm. Died recently. Or rather—
‘The body’s too intact?’
Long ago, while working in the Dome, he’d heard that exosuit pilots didn’t need coffins. Only anti-tank caliber rounds could pierce those outdated brute-force shields, and getting hit by one left no body behind.
Yet the three Oversight troopers before him were remarkably clean.
‘No heavy rounds used, then...’
A strange sense of déjà vu hit him. Streets turned to wastelands signaling the Oversight’s desperate stand. Exploded, charred bodies. Trash piles, shattered glass...!
Click!
The instant the Professor drew his pistol, the trash pile right behind him lurched up, swinging something at his back.
Bang!
“Guhk—”
“Scary bastard! No, using a knife against an exosuit...”
Thwack!
The corpse’s head exploded. Precisely at heart level for him. If he hadn’t lifted it to check gear, an incoming round would’ve nailed the original target instead.
“What the fuck, these psychos! Knife and sniper too?”
He hoisted the collapsing man as a shield against the hail of bullets, then dove into a shattered building wall for cover. Get hidden, locate the enemy—
Whoosh!
‘Again?!’
This time, a hand shot from a rubble pile. A gray-dusted enemy face grinned, flashing white teeth.
‘Too late. He’s faster than me!’
The assassin’s pistol trigger pull unfolded in slow motion. Is this the life flashing before my eyes? Ah, shit. Next life, stay away from rubble—
Splat!
Then. Before the Professor or assassin could react, the Professor’s left arm—moving first—slammed into the man’s jaw beneath the pile.
[Ugh... What’s with the commotion right after waking up... It’s not over yet—]
‘Good job! Don’t talk, it’s distracting!’
He’d nearly died. If Hyde hadn’t reacted faster, that lead slug would’ve turned his brain to mush!
The Professor’s eyes wildly scanned. Collapsed rubble. Fallen signs, half-torn lampposts—everything looked suspicious, suffocating him!
‘Trash ghillie suit, sniper aiming from over there, and another waiting in the nearest cover right beside! This is just the reserve force left after the fight ended and enemies passed?!’
Meticulous ambush exploiting blind spots in perception.
Heavy rounds? Forget heavy—knives and concealable pistols to blend into the streets. Even a suppressed sniper.
A setup laser-focused on stealth kills. Without the exosuit’s brute shield, it would’ve been perfectly efficient.
And the three Oversight troopers dead from mere neck and chest wounds.
“Forced the shields off?”
He’d heard rumors it was possible. Not portable enough for handheld use, but prepped in advance, it could drop shields in a small area. Required massive construction-like setup for flawless coverage, enough for maybe one car to squeeze through—never used in actual wars...
‘Their turf, so this makes sense.’
The Professor searched the body beside him, caked in gray dirt. One laser knife. One suppressed pistol. Gas mask and one unidentified grenade.
‘100% anti-personnel gear. Vex would’ve loved this. Would’ve been way easier with him.’
The Professor had some confidence in looting, but these enforcers were next level. That ghillie wasn’t just vinyl and trash slapped on—it was a genuine back-alley heap, reeking, oozing sticky filth. Made into clothing to sprawl in the open street, waiting hours for uncertain prey.
Unpredictable assassins and snipers anywhere. Enemy-familiar turf. But he couldn’t slow down. Crawling cautiously out of fear would let the outside battle end first.
Luckily, the Professor had a useful sidekick.
‘Hyde.’
[Help?]
‘Tell me the second you sense movement. Can’t slow down now.’
[Hmm... How about you give me a gun too.]
Before the Professor could hand one over, Hyde snatched the enforcer’s pistol from the ground.
[Hmm. Less lively than outside, sure, but this’ll do. I’ve fired a few times now—got a feel for how you do it.]
Only then did the Professor realize something was drastically off.
‘You...!’
[I didn’t plan this! Seriously! I woke up like this too!]
His left arm.
Past fingers and hand, up to the shoulder—his entire left side felt alien.
The price of pushing Hyde to the limit in reality, putting him to sleep.
***
Thud thud thud!
[Right, up top! Building window!]
Bang!
‘Slightly open manhole. Reflection!’
Crunch!
“Gaaah!”
‘Left alley! Beanie guy!’
[That’s a civilian—]
‘No way someone cowering with hands in pockets is innocent! Just shoot!’
Bang bang!
Since Hyde woke, the Professor was gripped by an eerie sensation. Before, Hyde just observed what he saw. Now, with Hyde devouring his whole arm...
[Ceiling! Red line!]
Shiiiing!
Hyde spoke after the laser detector Hyde sensed was already in his awareness.
Hyde shared his senses; now he shared Hyde’s perceptions too.
[I saw something like this in your old memories.]
‘What? You know what this is?’
[Yeah. Yin-Yang Heart Technique.]
‘Busy as hell, wanna spout nonsense?!’
Bang!
He cursed inwardly but agreed—the meaning got through. As a soldier and survivor long around firearms, he’d always scoffed at dual-wielding psychos with twin pistols or SMGs. Targets moved, shot back—not target practice. Unless spraying sword-beams from bullets, dual guns yielded zero advantage, pure stupidity.
Yet now, the Professor was that idiot, charging Underdome alleys. Effortlessly—each handling their gun, blasting perceived foes.
‘No, not “their” hands. All mine. What am I even thinking?’
[Tsk tsk. Caravan boss denying fair trade? You’d be dead without me. One arm worth it? This ain’t “inside” talk! Dead is dead!]
‘Fair enough—’
[Car!]
Bang bang!
Twin pistols in the Professor’s hands spat fire, piercing the assassin’s forehead inside the junked car.
Fewer enemies than expected.
‘The Oversight third platoon guys weren’t idiots.’
Lost three at the entrance to snipers, so countermeasures.
Exosuits probably pulverized these alleys passing through. Shield absorbers pre-installed. Smash everything to powder beforehand, disable them preemptively.
‘Bulldozed buildings, torched too—slashed enforcer hiding spots. Easier than the entrance crew! Hyde, left gun ammo?’
[Uh... Hold on! Digging through memories!]
‘You didn’t count?!’
[You’re the smart one, count it!]
‘Two screens in my head already—how with yours too? Not even my hands firing! And you’re using my brain!’
“There! That’s the guy the boss mentioned!”
“Shit! Toe guys died at the water shop! How’s he this fast!”
[That’s...]
‘Kill it! Underdome gang!’
Shiiiing!
Sliding into the alley at full sprint, the Professor holstered his pistols, donned the gas mask he’d picked up, and lobbed the odd grenade.
[Expose to shoot!]
‘No time to kill ’em all. Connected to enforcers—got orders. Been sprinting to shake tails...’
“Cough, cough!”
“Boss! He, cough! Smoked us!”
“Grrrr!!!”
“Not smoke! Chem gas!”
Orange smoke-like gas erupted from the Professor’s grenade. Gangs dragging junk barricades coughed up blood and collapsed.
[Gas... grenade?]
‘Flower of anti-infantry... way too vicious for that. Assassin geared to the teeth has one mask and grenade—this is it.’
Not harmless even with a mask, but the Professor exploited the chaos, dashing through yellow haze past them. Skin stung uncomfortably, but better than endless junkies.
“Huff, huff!”
[What’re you doing? We’re in a hurry! Friends dying!]
‘Catch my breath, damn it! Know how brutal combat-running is? Like speedrunning a horror game!’
[Tch. Acting urgent inside too.]
‘Not many breathers from here. Need stamina.’
How many minutes to pass Underdome residential? 15? Exosuits cleared once, but too fast. Breath ragged, but stamina held better than thought.
[Inner life good for health? Placebo or mind control.]
‘Nah, just crisis acclimation. Daily near-death like this. Tension burns stamina too.’
Damn, depressing. So numb to tension in this shit. What’s my life become?
The Professor shook off creeping thoughts from his brief sit. Stamina surplus was good. Long run ahead.
Gas grenade worked well but heavier than air—sank fast. Once cleared, enforcer-backed gangs would swarm. Gotta move faster or sandwich between them.
Out of the alley, a modern facility unlike the shabby ones appeared. Glass windows, bikes with small screens everywhere.
‘Power plant.’
[Power plant?]
‘Yeah. Dome residents must meet daily power quotas on those bikes. Some in Upper Dome, most here in Underdome.’
[Nice facilities all up top, no?]
‘Elites exempt from quotas. This ain’t nice—hate facility.’
[Why?]
‘Dome crime? No jail—welded to bikes. Pedal till sentence done. Brutal sight. Many die.’
Blood pooled where exosuits crushed. Others evacuated, but chained prisoners couldn’t.
Crunch, crunch, crunch!
Shattered glass everywhere. Prisoner corpses, enforcers in uniform now—no need to hide—plus four mangled exosuits. Frayed wires, crumpled metal suggested turret defense breach at central power.
Following exosuit trail deeper, vision suddenly cleared—misc buildings gone. Deep-dug ground crammed with massive tanks, topped by wire towers.
“Made it.”
[Here?]
‘Probably.’
The Professor nodded to Hyde.
Never seen Dome’s vital central power plant, but two last exosuits fighting amid scattered wreckage ahead proved enemies here.
***
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