Chapter 35
Chapter 35
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Vine
Chapter: 35
Chapter Title: Chapter 4: Eyelids (8)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
***
The shelter was too far to walk to, and the wasteland wasn’t kind enough to show mercy to someone who’d bolted out without any preparation.
Kwaaaaaa—
The sandstorm battered our hats just as harshly as it did everyone else in the wasteland. It had been three days since we’d taken refuge in a small nearby cave, unable to push through carrying Mother on my back.
The emergency rations we’d grabbed were long gone, and we’d run out of water ages ago. I’d given most of my share to Mother, but she could barely swallow food without vomiting it back up.
D-36 was a narcotic poison. The kind that stole your life if you didn’t inject it periodically. Perfect for controlling someone.
Both Mother and I were dying in that tiny cave in the wasteland.
Day four. Day five. The sandstorm finally stopped, but I didn’t have the strength to carry Mother across the wasteland where my feet sank deep into the sand with every step.
“Pro....fessor.... my son.....”
Mother’s voice, after days of not even being able to open her eyes. I sensed it instinctively. Those were her last words. I had to be by her side. My legs wouldn’t hold me, so I crawled across the floor and lay down next to her. Her emaciated hand, withered away in just a few months, groped at my face. She’d come to her senses, but it seemed like she couldn’t see.
“My.... son....”
“I’m sorry.... If I hadn’t gone to Dome....”
Swoosh—
Mother’s dry hand stroked my eyelids, as if wiping away tears that wouldn’t come.
“It’s not.... your fault....”
Just those words. In that single sentence, my parched body squeezed out tears. The tears finally went to meet the hand that had been waiting for them.
“My poor child.... Mommy’s sorry.... Mommy....”
“Ugh! Hngh! Kehheheh....”
I couldn’t say anything. Like the child I’d once been, running to Mother with scraped knees crying in pain, I could only bury my face in her hand and sob.
There wasn’t a trace of pain on Mother’s face. Just worry. Worry for the son who’d have to navigate this wasteland alone, burdened with guilt.
Kwaak!
I couldn’t tell where that strength came from in her dying body.
Drip, drip.
Hot, sticky liquid fell onto my lips. Before I could even realize what it was, my desiccated body craved it greedily.
“Professor. You have to live. No matter what happens, no matter what you have to do, as long as you’re alive. If you just stay alive, a person can stand back up. Got it?”
“M-Mom? What is this....!”
“Answer me!”
Plop, plop!
More blood dripped onto my face.
“Say you’ll live. No matter what!”
Under the fierce intensity in Mother’s voice, I nodded without thinking.
Only then did a smile appear on her poison-ravaged face.
“Yes. Live. That’s what you do. Live.....”
Thud.
Those were her last words as she collapsed into my arms, never to rise again. I held her until her body grew ice-cold.
That’s how I should have died too. No matter what. I should have died right there.
[But you.... were such a good boy who listened to Mommy....]
I waited for death. But the thirst quenched by Mother’s sacrifice only fueled my hunger further. Pain like my guts were being ripped out and twisted. Thoughts of dying faded away. Only hunger. Hunger filled my mind completely. I couldn’t even sleep through the agony of it.
Rational thought was impossible. Strange ideas kept swirling in my head nonstop.
‘I have to live. No matter what. No matter what I have to do.’
Mother’s dying words. And the drop of blood that fell into my mouth. No matter what I have to do. No matter what.
NoMatterWhatNoMatterWhatNoMatterWhatNoMatterWhatNoMatterWhatNoMatterWhatNoMatterWhatNoMatterWhatNoMatterWhatNoMatterWhatNoMatterWhatNoMatterWhatNoMatterWhatNoMatterWhatNoMatterWhatNoMatterWhatNoMatterWhatNoMatterWhatNoMatterWhatNoMatterWhatNoMatterWhatNoMatterWhat
What was I going to do. Me.
“M-Mom....”
I couldn’t remember what I’d done, but I kept repeating to myself that it must have been Mother’s will.
A few hours later. I was walking through the wasteland.
The next day. I arrived at the shelter.
The next day. I was walking through the wasteland again. There were no signs, but my body, my soul, told me this was the way.
The cave wasn’t far from the shelter.
“Aah, aaaaaah....”
Mother was there.
Dark red bloodstains smeared everywhere. Deep wounds on her wrists. Memories of sin flowing down her throat.
“Uh, uhhh, uhhhh....”
I couldn’t even say her name. I didn’t dare call it. The horror before my eyes, that scene branded like a hot iron, became the mold that bound me forever, dropping me to my knees right there.
[Deep inside every human is a beast.... Peel away the thin shell of reason, and there lurks a massive beast you’ve never even imagined in your lifetime....]
The scream that couldn’t form into words tore through my chest, my heart, my soul, and burst out. With no one to hear it, that scream was an insult to myself, a curse, an apology.
There’s a memory that clings like those dark red bloodstains.
The memory that lingered at my lips the entire time I walked the wasteland—it was about that savory taste.
***
Drag—
The screen went dark, and it dragged the chair the bastard had been sitting in over to me.
[Aigoo~ Look at our shell’s face, all blackened to death. Don’t wanna see any more? Wanna give up?]
‘.....’
I couldn’t open my mouth. If I did now, whether I cursed, screamed, or wailed, I’d lose my mind one way or another. That day’s memory followed me like a curse. I couldn’t escape it. That taste.... that bizarre sense of fullness.... the memory of being satisfied by it.... I can’t forget it. It won’t fade.
Shiver, shiver....
Ever since that day, I’d come to hate myself. More than anyone else.
[Nah? Mom knew. What kind of scum Dome was made of. What would happen if you went there. She survived alone in the wasteland for two years amid that warzone, so she must’ve heard all about it. And you ignored her and dragged her to Dome. If it weren’t for you, she’d be alive and well right now, right?]
Drip, crackle,
I crumbled. My consciousness, from my toes up, shattering slowly like glass.
[Ah, if only that bomb had exploded over my head instead of on my comrades.]
Drip, craaack!
[Ah, if that bullet had hit my heart instead of my shoulder! If I’d died like that.... Mom would’ve!]
‘If I’d died like that.’
[She’d be alive right now.]
‘I wouldn’t have to suffer like this.’
Craaack!
A deep crack sounded from my knees up to my chest.
‘I had to live. For Mother, who saved me like that. For the one who gave everything to save me. Even though I wanted to die every day. I had to live, whether I willed it or not.
Heh heh heh.
It’s delightful. The horrific guilt and the bastard’s glee hit me at once. I want to kill it.
[Hmm. Even up to here, you’re plenty evil by wasteland standards. The worst of the worst. But.... there’s more after this, right? You can hold out a bit longer? Since you’re peeking into your sins, might as well see it through to the end?]
Heh heh heh.
The bastard approached slowly, wrapping my fracturing consciousness in its gentle embrace.
[Five years ago. The game character Professor Guillotine. Those days you dove into the game like a madman to escape the pain of losing your mother, and the village of Ashpel somewhere beyond the Blueline. Remember?]
Thump.
Strength drained from my hands. My first game character. And Ashpel village. I’d forgotten. No, I’d lived so hard just to forget.
[See? You hadn’t forgotten. You knew, didn’t you? That this wasn’t just a game.]
Crack, craaack—
[Come on, say it with your own mouth. What did you see there?]
Its body seeped slowly into the cracks in my consciousness. Its voice scattered like smoke, becoming my own.
A forced confession began, against my will.
‘I got addicted to the game. I’d vomit up anything I ate, so Corduro had no choice but to put me in the login pod and feed me through the player nutrition maintenance function. I accepted it. I had to live, like Mother said. Back then, when that bizarre fullness followed me no matter what I ate, it was the only way to survive. To forget, I threw myself into the game like fleeing.’
[And.... you discovered Ashpel village, right?]
I nodded.
‘It was just.... ordinary village NPCs. A middle-aged couple.... and they felt strangely endearing.’
[And?]
‘No big thoughts. The village had no inn.... so I just wanted to stay at their house for a bit. Luckily, the couple was kind, and I.... just wanted to rest anywhere. There was nowhere to rest. But that house.... was a little different. I ended up staying there quite a while.’
Crackle.
Its consciousness burrowed into my mind like a snake. Slowly digging in, unearthing the guilt I’d hidden in the deepest, most intimate place.
The two provided a warm dinner and bed every day to this strange traveler who’d shown up out of nowhere asking to stay, and in return, I did various tasks for them and the village. After a month, I was known to the villagers as the couple’s adopted son.
‘A month.... They were good people. In days of slashing my wrists dozens of times a day and healing them over and over, in a life where I kept a gun with a single bullet loaded within reach, the peace here.... was the irresistible kind. It was strange how I adapted. I thought maybe I could overcome it here, that the heavy memories would scab over someday.’
It was an ordinary evening like always. Masa and Eddie. Even their names were plain. A couple who baked good bread and loved to sing.
It started with a trivial sense of déjà vu. Eddie’s habit of tapping his right hand on the table before meals. It felt familiar, but I ignored it.
The familiar taste of the bread. So similar to the hearty weekend flavor Mother used to put on the table every Sunday morning long ago. I ignored that too.
I ignored it even when Eddie shyly confessed he secretly wrote poetry as a hobby.
I ignored how Masa’s way of doing laundry was exactly like Mother’s.
Because it couldn’t be. It had to be impossible!
Then, I saw myself reflected in their eyes.
“We.... hope you don’t misunderstand what we’re about to say.”
“As you know, my wife and I have no children. We don’t know your circumstances or what wounds brought you here.... but could we introduce you as our son to others now?”
The two looking at me with eyes overflowing with love, just like my parents’. Me, happy inside them.
The moment I realized I wouldn’t refuse that offer—couldn’t even think of refusing—I was screaming. Because right there were two people perfectly replacing my deceased parents.
[Andrey Gedroits.... a genius. Creating NPCs that are ‘exactly like real people’—so realistic, lifelike, never losing autonomy no matter the situation. But get this? Before Gedroits vanished, GG Ver.1 didn’t have NPCs this alive. The more players joined, the more the NPCs started moving and acting like real people.]
I thought it was ridiculous, burst out of the login pod, and dug through its data. Beneath my numerous login records was an old one from when the game first launched.
[Player Eddie / time: 23h 43m]
[Player Masa / time: 27h 25m]
Sometimes, impossible things happened in this world.
[Creating something from nothing is the realm of gods. But replicating what already exists.... For a genius who built a world like this, wouldn’t it be possible?]
Eddie and Masa were NPCs replicated from my mother’s and father’s data. Perfect copies built from collected data on their thought patterns, behaviors, habits—everything that made up their lives. Not just them, but every NPC in the game was a soul made from data of someone who’d logged in somewhere.
[You disgusting brat, what you found wasn’t a warm respite. It was perfect dummies replacing your dead parents. So what if they’re already dead? Who cares? I got new parents! Perfect substitutes who love me and treat me just like before!]
“U, uwaaaaaah!!!!”
Splash!
It revived. Revulsion piled on guilt. My face, clawed by my fingers, became a bloody mess in an instant.
“Get out, get out of my head!”
[Deny it! Say you didn’t know from the start! You ignored it on purpose! Anyone would’ve done! As long as they loved you! As long as you could escape those memories! Anyone would’ve been fine!]
“Aaaaaah!!!!!”
I wanted to rip out my brain and empty it. I loathed myself, and I loathed the me that wanted to forget that loathsome self. I want to forget. But I can’t. I have to remember everything I’ve received so far, how I tried to replace it all with nothing.
I remember, when Eddie and Masa asked, I was about to say ‘yes’.
Crack, crunch, craunch!
Dark red flesh bulged through the torn skin of my face. The infection halted at my neck began climbing to my jaw, my mouth, my temples. Amid my completely shattered consciousness, a sweet scent, a soft voice burrowed in.
[Shhhh. Don’t be so sad. It hurts me when you’re sad. I’ll help you.]
‘Help.... me?’
[Yeah. Your deceased father, whom you escaped for. Your mother, who gave literally everything beyond that. And trying to casually forget those dead parents and replace them. Isn’t that burden too heavy for you to bear alone?]
Heavy. Yeah, it was too heavy. I couldn’t endure it sane, so I wandered the wilds, took drugs, and even tore into my own body. Every time pain hit, it felt like I was paying for my sins. The self-harm habit lasted over a year.
[Yeah. Trapped with such a loathsome self, how agonizing it must’ve been. Now let it go. I’ll carry it all for you.]
‘Carry.... it?’
[Yeah. Your sins, your memories, your pain. I’ll take it all. You just forget everything and sleep easy.]
Rustle.
The last remnant of Professor’s ego crumbled. The infection passed his eyes; now nothing was visible in Professor’s vision.
[Ahh, so this is what it feels like to see the world. To have a body. To be a complete individual. Truly.... beautiful.]
The monster tested its new body. Frail beyond its appearance. But there’d be a way to revive it somehow. No particular attachment, but asking the host mother was an option....
[Hm?]
This body was completely his. The infection factor spread to the scalp proved it. So why. Why wouldn’t the arm move as he wished?
‘No....’
Crack, snap!
The monster’s right arm moved slowly. Escaping his control, slowly, laboriously. Upward.
‘I can’t.... give that up....’
Memories festered atop the wounds, the ego forcibly piled on crumbled, and a small shard hidden within shone. What some call the essence of life. Some call humanity. And some call it the soul.
A crystal honed by pain at life’s extremes gripped his final consciousness.
‘That sin.... is mine....’
Even if it took my body, my life, the sin alone I had to bear myself. The memory of betraying my humanity that instant. And trying to replace those who gave everything for me with nothing. That revulsion. That pain is mine alone. The prisoner of that sin must be me, carrying those memories.
The right hand covered half his face and slowly began tearing it off.
[Wait, stop! Why won’t you give up like this? I feel what you feel! This.... this pain is real! Your life from here on will be filled with nothing but pain, over and over! As long as you don’t abandon those memories, there’s no hope in your life!]
Snap, gruunch!
Arms and legs twisted wildly. Sensation returned to my limbs, and the infection’s pain tore me from the inside out. Ecstasy surged. Yes. This is right. I deserve to suffer.
Splash!
The half-crushed eyeball regenerated, and vision returned. The bastard’s voice was fading. For some reason, it sounded like it was sniffling.
“It’s okay. I decided to live like this.”
I won’t forget. That day, that devotion. And the me who tried to throw it all away.
Fizzle, hiss—
‘Don’t give up....’
‘Live like that.... Live.... no matter.... what....’
On the screen within my eyelids, the two’s final memories quietly surfaced.
Humans live chasing hope. But some shattered, crumbling souls sustain their lives by bearing sins. That soul, so fragile it seems it’ll snuff out at the slightest worldly gale, is anchored by that sin it carries.