Chapter 34
Chapter 34
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 34
Chapter Title: Eyelid (7)
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***
Thud, thud, thud.
‘Large specimen. Shaking the thick stone floor like that—it’s a hefty one.’
Tap, tap-tap! Tap!
‘Medium. Quick, light footsteps. Insect type. Like that mantis earlier, this raid’s packed with insect specimens.’
Truth be told, at this stage, the bulk should be straightforward grade-8 infected or grade-7s modeled after easy-to-find insects and rodents. The Queen would’ve fully digested those common genes long ago. But if they’re tunneling through the ground...
‘Pale Face. Grade-6. Special type. Looks like this world’s mutants are operating in small elite squads.’
It’s a massive earthworm with what looks like a white mask. That mask is just oversized front jaws used for burrowing. They pop up sometimes by digging tunnels, but they’re no real threat.
Most just dig in, then get buried alive when the tunnel collapses.
Useless things like that, yet they guzzle resources, so they don’t show up until a high-intelligence commander-type emerges on the mutant side.
‘If resources—prey for the Queen—had been plentiful, they’d have swarmed in hordes. But Edenorna’s failed hunt left the Queen starving, production stalled. No spare resources to expand the nest’s artificial wombs, yet they’re deploying special specimens like that king worm.’
That clinched it. The Queen was conserving forces now. Even a shaky tunnel wouldn’t collapse if just a few troops crept through carefully. Infiltrate the city, retreat if needed—that’s the play.
‘Not the kind of thinking you’d expect from a still-maturing Queen... Did the crisis spur her intelligence?’
Too soon to say.
Thud! Thud! Thud!!
The big one’s footsteps grew closer.
Screech—boom!
‘Steel door going down. My room.’
From the bathtub, the Professor prayed desperately. Please leave... just go...
“Sniff sniff sniff, grrr grrr, uuu.”
The thing sniffing at the toppled door stepped inside.
Thud! Thud!
“Grrr.”
Clunk!
The tub lid lifted. The Professor lay still as a corpse, not even blinking.
“Sniff sniff sniff—grrr? Gaaa. Uuu.”
Clatter.
Thud! Thud. Thud...
It sniffed the tub for a moment, tilted its head, dropped the lid, and lumbered away.
‘Knew it. Works on live ones too!’
Bathtub full of mutant blood. Soaking in it quieted the infection factors in his body.
‘Mutants are a mishmash of every creature, each with unique scents and traits. Only way they tell friend from foe? The common infection factor!’
That’s why he’d dived in headfirst. Hesitate, and a detection specialist outside could spell doom.
‘Stay put till all sounds stop.’
Not fresh water—uncomfortable—but his water-affinity mana made breath-holding easy. Wait it out, slip away when quiet—
[You’ve always loved hiding, even as a kid.]
‘!!!’
A sweet scent injected straight into his brain. A young boy’s voice, mocking, sneering. It was him.
[Such a troubled child. Couldn’t fit in with the others. Sure, boys that age obsess over secret bases, but you? Extreme.]
Clearer than before. No more stuttering, no nonsense. Like chatting with someone else in his head.
Since their first encounter, the Professor had mulled this over. Body fully infected except the head, plus Edenorna’s infection factor enabling independent action. First nightmares, then the unconscious, relentlessly dredging traumas.
‘This conversation itself is mental corruption progressing.’
No clue how or why it was in the game, but one thing was clear. GG’s player-killer trap—the one that doomed countless in reality—was this exact type. Fight back. It weakens his mind, seeks cracks. Stay unshaken, and it’s done.
‘Calmly. Like it’s nothing. Mind games? My specialty.’
[Ooh, scary. But you’re mistaken. I’m not exactly your enemy?]
‘Joke’s a solid three figures. Out of 100, anyway. Guessed right—you skimmed my head’s humor section?’
Giggle giggle.
That laugh always grated. He couldn’t see it, but he knew. It was enjoying this.
[No, serious. First time tasting freedom as an independent entity since birth. Mother’s thrall? Like truth serum forcing black history confessions. Mother was... oh, sorry. Insensitive. No mom for you, right?]
...This bastard?
‘...Freshly born, huh? Manners nowhere to be found.’
[Um... Manners are just constraints for relating to others, right? But we’re not others? Professor. Relax. Like lounging in underwear at home.]
Damn it. Knows me inside out. Feels like getting dragged into its rhythm no matter what.
‘Fine, say you’re not hostile. Then what about the attacks these past days? Infection factors below the neck already obey you. You could’ve calmed them, kept my guts from spilling like a butcher’s prize hog. That weird nightmare when Isaac’s old man slipped me? You. Pulling stunts like that, and you claim no hostility? Think I’ll buy it?’
[Ah, that?]
Hee hee hee... giggle giggle giggle—
Through closed eyelids, thin red crescent eyes. Gleaming white teeth. It was him. Laughing uncontrollably, it spoke.
[Oh, sure, explanations exist. Look?]
Twitch!
‘This...’
Fingers moved against his will. Struggling like caught, but slowly. Index and middle bent.
[Infection factors are basically single-celled. Even as Mother-spawned, Edenorna-passed, Professor-head-grown consciousness, I can’t directly control her core commands embedded deep. Best I can? Nudge their natural urges, move these two fingers in your head?]
Wiggle wiggle~
In the murky solution, his right fingers waved like a greeting. Nausea surged. Tense his hand—they obeyed him again, like nothing happened.
[Urgh, can’t hold back. Wanted to tease more. Secrets are fun.]
‘What?’
Giggle giggle.
The red-eyed phantom approached, breath hot. Black smoke sprouted arms and legs, somehow.
[Truth? All excuses. I just enjoyed it.]
‘...What?’
[Firm self—your so-called solid consciousness—crumbling like a sandcastle in waves from one word, one memory? Hilarious. Dominating someone, knowing and shaking everything they are! So fun! Your huddled baby-like mind! Scrambling to rebuild shattered emotions! So pitiful, so endearing!]
Ecstasy. Pure ecstasy flooded his mind. He felt its joy. Pure delight at his breaking.
Evil. It was purely, innocently evil.
Drip—
Emotions cut off like severed by a blade.
[That’s why. Here today for that.]
Gurgle—
Itch exploded unbearably. Like the first infection devouring his body.
[Revved up the lower ones max. Safe in here, but step out? They’ll storm your head, turn you into an idiot.]
‘Why... go this far? If possible, why not sooner...’
Giggle giggle.
[Told you? Fun.]
Static, crackle—
In their pitch-black mind-space, a small old TV appeared.
[We’re in a game—perfect. Let’s play one.]
‘What...’
[‘Endurance.’ Simple. This screen shows memories I’ve carefully picked from yours. Watch every one, keep your sanity intact? You win. I’ll suppress infection factors max, even shut up if you want.]
Didn’t want to see. But closing eyes or turning away, the screen stuck fixed ahead.
‘If I... can’t endure?’
[Weak already! Minus one point. Nah, even if you crack, I won’t do much.]
Giggle giggle.
Drag—
It dragged a little wooden chair, sat, hands behind head.
[No need. From then, this body’s mine anyway.]
Fizzle—
Old TV flickered on, grainy like ancient film.
The Professor couldn’t look away. It was his festering guilt, chronicled.
***
The war ended as abruptly as it began.
Commanders on the field must’ve realized sometime. Orders from above weren’t for noble ideals anymore—just venting piled-up hate. My last order? Hold position, eliminate enemies as situation demands. Three times, same content.
Heading home, expectations were low. Dad left just a gas mask worth remembering; house might have something for Mom. Trendy bunkers mushroomed up—probably not totally collapsed. Casual thoughts.
Got an unimaginable gift there.
Thud.
“Mo...m?”
“...Grown so much in two years. Calling me Mom, my son.”
“M-Mom!”
Dad and I conscripted, leaving her alone. Amid battlefield toy-like deaths, ravaged civilian zones, I’d thought her gone. There she was—gaunter, tougher—in the barren shelter’s heart.
Pre-war baker, now molding copper casings. What life in the apocalypse? Unimaginable.
[Good times. Mmm~ Nostalgic.]
So we built a life, just us. Fortified the shelter, scavenged. Told her Dad’s news—stoic by day, crying into his clothes at night. Vowed to protect her instead. 14th Special Ops skills proved handy in the wastes.
Especially killing...
***
“Mom, think again. The Dome’s the only group still trying to uphold law and justice in this rotten world!”
“Son, I’ve told you—flashy talkers always have dirty backs. You’ve been in the wastes a month; you don’t know, but those guys...”
“I saw plenty in the army, good and bad! I know! We can’t live like this forever, just us!”
“...What’s wrong with just us...”
I grew violent by the day. Each kill, each slash and bloodbath, I excused as survival necessity—knowing they were like me. Nightmares plagued me; anxiety worsened.
Dome obsession started then. Rebuild civilization promises, command structure’s security, belonging—tempting. Go there, no more killing. Live normally, like before...
One day, Mom came home wounded, sepsis hit. Carried her to the Dome. They knew my service, welcomed us.
Everything seemed normal. Cozy officetel in Upper Dome’s city core. Pre-war experimental city shield—dust-free fresh air. Smiling people.
One thing. Mom wouldn’t recover. Dome docs injected antibiotics, treatments—nothing.
“We’ve done all we can. Seems... mutant virus complication...”
Clang!
“So my mom’s dead?!”
“No, still alive. Just... unpredictable. Keep antibiotics, monitor.”
“Damn it...”
Antibiotics—pricey even in Dome. Killed for cash again, extended her life with blood money drugs.
[Giggle giggle, behold this epic tale. How could anyone watch alone...]
Two months shy of Dome anniversary. Late night, faint presence at window. Edgy from ‘work,’ I had my pistol to the intruder’s head before they climbed in.
“...Skills sharpened, chowhound.”
“That voice... Luwill? 14th Special Ops Luwill?”
He slowly pushed the barrel away, answering.
“Long time. Discharge—three, four months?”
“We made too many enemies. Safer scattered. Good to see you, Luwill. Daytime knock would’ve been perfect.”
Glad or not, sneaking in at night? Too many I’d killed; battlefield Luwill specialized in infiltration, assassination.
Haaa.
Click, click.
Pitch dark, no moonlight—his cigarette ember trailed like a sight.
“...Professor. Heard you’re in Dome’s strike force.”
“Had to. Mom’s meds.”
“Meds... meds...”
Thud.
He pulled a neat folder from his coat.
“My business—deliver this. Nice seeing you. Hope never again.”
Click.
Slipping out back window, he hesitated, spoke over my gun.
“...Had no choice. Didn’t know your mom. Here... wife and daughter.”
“Wait. What? Luwill! Hold on! Luwill Bartos!”
Rushed out—no trace. Just the folder on the table.
Anxiety like back on the front. Opened it.
‘Stop, please stop...’
[Aw, shell? Didn’t we just discuss manners? Bathroom break at the climax? Rude. Watch to the end. Your life.]
Rustle.
=======
Subject: Professor Park
Notes: Served 14th Special Annihilation Ops. Deployed as teen, stellar record. Versatile—no specialty pinned. Handled all logistics, excelled as engineer and combatant. Nicknames: Rice Professor, Chowhound, Supply Boy.
Father confirmed KIA in action. Suspected Dome relocation for septic mother. Interview confirmed mother’s strong anti-Dome bias.
Measures: Confirmed multi-role asset for Dome. Injected D-36 to pacify mother. Induce med purchases for economic bind, assign handler for positive relations.
=======
Tremble tremble tremble—
Flipped pages. D-36 details. Next: profiles/photos of planted contacts, wiretap transcripts, next, next, next...!
Flip, flip, flip.
“What justice... what law...!”
Each page, tremors worsened. All lies. Mom’s recovery promise, serving the world—friends at bars, the woman comforting by Mom’s bed, this home—all!! Fabricated!!
That night, I carried Mom out secretly. Ironclad Dome gates—wide open, somehow. Wastes wind hardened tear tracks to sand.
***