Chapter 171
Chapter 171
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 10
Chapter Title: Lead and Silver Coins (25)
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Static—
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- Variable Son-in-Law: Take someone on. 37 years old, has a GG account, steady ceiling income possible, knows how to handle firearms. Can handle anywhere inside the 40s. Works hard. From the Dome. Anyone picking up?
- Rasputin: Lmao [From the Dome] one phrase and you're cut lololol
- bUllllll: Looks like a Dome livestock that's only been scavenging for 5 years lololol No one uses Dome trash outside, right? Just from not listing combat position, you can tell it's a tin can.
- Elgore32: Been seeing a ton of these guys lately. Ever since the comms blackout in Zone 38 got fixed, everyone's going nuts trying to escape.
- Variable Son-in-Law: Just take me in.... I'll really die if I stay here. Gunfire in the city just yesterday....
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“Uh.... Zone 38.... civilian relocation requests surging....”
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- Logus: First contact in about a month. Should I be glad, or start tracking coords right away? So, looking to restart the smuggling op we cut off?
- Jack32: Damn it. How many times do I have to say the situation's gone to hell! The entire 30s turned into a nightmare. No one's passing through, so smuggling's dead, drug stocks are running dry on raw materials, back alleys about to riot. Uh, can we use the exchange drones now? Scavengers got wiped by mutants, so barely any drone-jackers left.
- Logus: Can't go through routes to Zone 38. Those three-headed snake bastards hold those spots. They target comms-dead zones and hijack drones with banned accounts as their job.
- Jack32: Damn it. Drugs aside, what the hell do we do.... Surveillance Department's ignoring us now that their own feet are on fire! If we don't move, the junkies will go berserk! Just circulate 3kg of Cool-Jackie....
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Scritch-scritch—
“Zone 38 Surveillance Department.... running drugs too. Inter-zone exchange still impossible. Thought long-range drone shipping might work now that small scavengers got wiped, but those snakeheads set up shop there for a reason.”
Static—
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- shovelgod: Atmosphere's off. No need to mention the 30s, but even around Zone 45, Dome ops have fights every day. Let's relocate.
- Dislam: Put in for Dome entry two years ago. No spots, no spots. Can't go underdome either.
- shovelgod: ....Found somewhere similar, safe. Taking individuals or groups.
- Dislam: BDSM? That okay? Nothing but close to Dome, farming's tapped out, no merits....
- shovelgod: They say they've got systems in place now. Dome sent management, and after this trading expedition wraps, planning self-sustaining production with the cash. Might be no better chance—base isn't solid yet. Saw Zone 41 rad levels. Not safe here anymore.
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That's talk about our place. Dome sent people like they said, village seems to be running okay.
“Ugh, eyes are gonna pop out.”
Back at Zone 38 Administration and crashed for half a day. Next morning, Professor shoved off the ones clinging for “absolute rest” and sat at the computer.
Dome's heavy-firepower support would move way faster than us: about a week to Zone 35. Us, dodging everything, 5 days from 38 to 35. Leisurely, 6. One day buffer, so cranking radio tower surveillance full blast to hoover intel.
Professor took off headset, stretched stiff body. Six hours straight from dawn, scraped every message between 38 and 47, but no solid intel. Plenty there, but blackout lift unleashed message flood—no time to check all.
Admin staff and our crew all piled on, but....
“Argh! Can't! When to read all this?!”
“Sip. Sit, Ezel. Not dinner time yet.”
“No, listen! Not one zone—covers multiple wholesale, plus inbound from outside!”
Like Ezel said, manpower shortage.
“....Still gotta. At least now, bound to contact once.”
“Th-that our Chief Young?”
“Yeah. Looks like multiple tentacles here. Usual contact vibes, but yesterday learned via me things didn't go as planned. No choice but contact.”
First thing on waking: any messages with Chief's name overnight.
None found, so no contact yet.
‘Gotta find it. Scraped info, but just situational grasp. Need chess players' intel to lead. Wait if needed—even delay Dome support days, nail Chief's collaborators here!’
No such leisure post-38. To avoid pawn status, know who's moving the pieces now.
Pocket: calorie bars. Tossed one to Ezel, munched one.
“Here, lunch. Eat while working. Not hard, buck up. You'll miss this outside?”
“Sniff, even Jesus had a big last supper with disciples....”
Whining Ezel, blank-faced Bex at screen. Ian full-on head-down desk sleep.
Dumped remaining bars on Ian's head, sighed, back to computer.
Static—
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- vorls2020: Life lately ....
- Emiya's Dishwater: Mutant population boom closing major scrap farms....
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“Contact him, Chief. Things tangled, must be dying to know. He'll reach out.”
Professor's eyes gleamed hunter-sharp scanning messages. He'd find it. Proof to turn guess to certainty.
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Surveillance hour 12. Hardened admin staff wilting, bloodshot-eyed Ezel preaching human rights, Professor fighting sleep bruising thigh.
“F-found it.”
“....”
“Found? Asleep?”
“Hm! Uh, no. Wait, wasn't sleeping. Checking memo hit, dove deep. Keep going.”
“No, I mean.... think we got it.”
Crash!
Jumped up, chair flew. Sleep vanished; Professor dashed to Bex.
Bex's screen blinked: Chief clearly talking someone.
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- ForeverYoung: Why?
- ForeverYoung: At least from your side. No, in this damned world.... Thought no one as trustworthy to work with as you. Mikhail.
- M. Pletnev: Apologies. For this, and what I'll do ahead.
- ForeverYoung: So, going separate ways?
- M. Pletnev: Sorry.
- ForeverYoung: Saw completed Orpheus, power too tempting?
- M. Pletnev: Sorry.
- ForeverYoung: So, betraying sworn friend from war—vowed restore old order together—like a used rag, to stand atop world with that power!
- M. Plenev: ....Sorry.
- ForeverYoung: Not contacting for apologies, Mikhail! I want reasons! More than anyone. More than I, Alexander Young, thirsting to restore order to this broken world—why suddenly betray me!!!!
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Couldn't believe calm, sharp mid-aged Chief Young's messages before eyes.
“This.... Zone 47 Surveillance coords right? Not similar?”
“Thought I misread, but no. Spot-on. ‘ForeverYoung’ is Zone 47 Surveillance Chief, Alexander Young.”
“‘M. Pletnev’.... Mikhail Pletnev.... Zone 38 Enforcement Chief, right. Friends, huh.”
Chief said couldn't 100% trust me. Mask hiding emotions always, now this agitated. This Mikhail—truly 100% trusted. Shows bare face under mask, real emotions.
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- ForeverYoung: First Dome built, those maggot politicians gathered civilians eyeing us, kicked out to cram family, kin, cronies! I raged fists bloody watching disgust—you, how act? Mikhail Pletnev how!
- M. Pletnev: Water under bridge.
- ForeverYoung: Forgot? I'll remind. Set fire to their 'VIP conference' pigsty! No hesitation! Snatched guard's flamethrower, turned president, UN, transnational NGO heads ruling world to ash one by one—that you! Answered my question 'Had to.' Thanks, Dome became free democracy ideal, not old privilege heir. You who stayed straight through world-burning storm—why! How!
- M. Pletnev: ....Misunderstanding, Young. Unchanged. Just, as always, can't ignore duty before eyes. That's it.
- ForeverYoung: ....Explain so I get.
- M. Pletnev: Nothing much. Just, not suited ruling others. I know. Endure once, Dome justice might spread world. But you know.... I'm that guy. Can't overlook wrong. My way of life, survival reason. Moment that one appeared, couldn't face your plan anymore. That's it.
- ForeverYoung: Still.... fixable. People I sent lingering your admin. Team up. With my troops, BDSM folks, push fanatics, secure Orpheus—not far from original. I'll staff Zone 38 admin. If your uprightness blocks standing over others, step down. Maintain order Zone 47. World needs your type.
- M. Pletnev: See your rampaging face, friend. Glad last heart-to-heart. Lucky having you. In many ways.
- ForeverYoung: Damn it, what's problem, Mikhail! You wallflower bastard! Talk! Tell me!
- M. Pletnev: Just, fate maybe. Young.
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.
.
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Crunch!
“....Intense, Chief dude. Thought heart of stone.”
“Told you! Our Chief's not black-hearted like you lot! Bit sleazy, but soul's humanism peak!”
Ian and Ezel, gathered peeking messages.
Bored Ian chewing bar, vibrant Ezel. Inspired by Chief Young's justice, waving flag praising leader vibe.
Of course, I felt sour.
“So Enforcement's enemy too.”
Chat direction: sympathized Chief Young, but clearly parting ways.
[Wallflower], [Uprightness], [Justice blind to future], [That one]
‘Moment that one appeared, couldn't face your plan.’
Mikhail Pletnev. Till recently Chief Young's ally, sudden turn due to [that one]. Some glaringly ‘unjust’ figure appeared; Mikhail judged opposing it clashed Young's plan, dropped hand, pursued justice. Young's pick. Means among allies here, someone Mikhail deems judgment-worthy.
‘Who? Moral perfectionist's unjust villain eye.’
Karel Belmont? Nah. Dumb, but not trash.
Admin Chief unseen? Exists? No public activity. Hold.
Our kids? Met Mikhail two nights ago—what issue.
‘Then.... me?’
Professor. BDSM head. GG ranker. Dome hero. Great War killer, survivor infighter killer, recently Zeus'd hundreds Raptor humans to metal mush. World. Perfect villain? Satan hires on spot, no interview.
‘....Really me?’
Chill bumps. Two nights back, angular-faced cool guy. Zone 38 muscle head, A+++ snipers' boss, cuts friend ties to kill me? Real?
“Uh.... Ian.”
“....”
“Ian?”
“Sip— whoa dozed off. What?”
“Uh.... got good bulletproof? Level 5+, blocks anti-tank rifle good.”
“Have some.... last time said hinders movement, hated? Got shield?”
“J-just! Suddenly need!”
“....Okay, check when unload tomorrow. Staying till then anyway.”
Absurd, but.... you never know. Local scav, caravan sniper medley Cossack dance on death line. Old sniper rifle dream-shot spam Enforcement targets single: fuck save me.
That night, Professor dreamed snipers riddling him mockingly everywhere, giant Mikhail crushing yelling ‘Justice judgment’ or such.
Dream or not, rest flew; dawn, crew prepped exit calm admin building.
Street thick obvious snipers, scopes glare unmasked.
Break through, maybe ambushed bounty hunters, thicker mutants now, to Zone 35.
“What writing?”
“Invoice.”
Dark circles Professor's [Zone 47 Surveillance vs BDSM Contract Invoice] added extra zero.
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