Chapter 497
Chapter 497
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 23
Chapter Title: Gedroits's Heir, Deul (12)
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"Ah, it's Walking Cane's barrier."
Seeing the massive structure in the distance and its owner, the Type 3 variant, I couldn't help but feel anew just how remarkable I'd become.
Shwaaaak—
The road, unused for so long, kicked up heaps of piled sand.
Vroooom!
The armored truck racing over it paid no mind to the harsh noise, speeding along freely.
Beep—
[15 km ahead. Type 3 variant 'Walking Cane' detected. Approximately 14.2 km until known detection range.]
Beep—
[2 Type 2 variants spotted on elevated highway at 3.5 km, 7 o'clock direction, 4 units. Transmitting captured footage.]
A dozen transport drones flew low over the truck, relaying all surrounding threat data to me. Naturally, the only device with the authority to handle that was the communication module built into the TCAT-3000 transport drone, secured by special codes—and that special drone had met its end in the hands of me and my friends.
The most suitable way to store that communication module securely enough that no one could steal it, while keeping it portable for real-time use, was one and only one.
"Ugh. Mom said too much electromagnetic exposure is bad for you."
It was shoving TCAT's comm gear into the large metal implant still on my chest. It had been surprisingly simple, since my chest already housed a hefty military comm unit. The one I'd usefully employed back when smashing those black market rats. Swapping it out actually left extra space.
Thanks to that, I could issue commands to the transport drones in real-time while driving the truck, and receive footage they'd captured on the truck's display for visual confirmation.
The scavengers had been wiped out en masse, clearing the roads, but in exchange, the wasteland crawled with all sorts of variants. With the drones monitoring every direction, I could dodge them stress-free.
The result? While it had taken my friends and me five days of unleashing every heavy weapon we had to reach Sector 40, I'd arrived alone in just two days without firing a single bullet.
"Artists' Union. A Type 3 variant with ego."
Whiiiir—
Rolling down the window let thick sand-laden wind rush fiercely into the cab.
"...I'm probably not all that different, huh?"
Making it two days without firing a shot meant nothing had happened—just eating and driving. A rare 'boring' situation in the wasteland, perfect for all sorts of thoughts to sprout wildly in the mind of a lone trucker without company.
The sharp scent of sand, the gritty feel filling my lungs with a single breath, and the Geiger counter that had begun ticking faintly but unmistakably.
It was a thought that had struck me the first night out alone in the wasteland, while busily prepping alarms and contingency hazmat suits.
'Do I really need to protect my body like this?'
Variants lived fine even in radiation zones.
My back had been aching constantly during the drive, thanks to the rigid carapace plating in key spots on my body.
The external activity suit Ian had packed—none too meticulously—didn't fit this inhuman (寅畏) frame well.
In that moment, what I'd only sensed intellectually sank into my skin. I'd truly changed. Even though I'd lived longer in this warped 'Warlord' body than as the human 'Professor,' I hadn't felt much dissonance stepping outside because my outer body wasn't all that different from back then.
Sand. Radioactive fallout. Fine heavy metals. Toxic gases—all whipping into the cab in a fierce gale—but what I felt was just the familiar wasteland aroma. Considering reports that Sector 30's toxic atmosphere had descended to Sector 40, forcing Dome's outposts to retreat, I shouldn't be inhaling this, let alone emerging unscathed.
Unless I was a monster like the variants.
Someday, would I end up like that Walking Cane over there, locked away in some corner of my mind? When would that moment come? To avoid it, did I really need to ask that Collector guy how to become a suitable vessel?
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'You can't hold out without going, right?'
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Suddenly, the keyword 'monster' sparked another thought.
Two days ago. Just as I'd driven the truck out of the Sector 47 checkpoint.
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'Da, Dana? How did you...'
'Vex really can't lie, can he.'
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Dana, looking genuinely pissed this time, had been waiting at the vehicle inspection post.
She must've bolted straight from the hospital, wearing loose-fitting patient garb, and with a gust of wind scattering her patient gown and long hair... well, it looked incredibly combative.
Of course, my heart nearly jumped out of my mouth. I'd snuck out precisely because I didn't know what to say to her.
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'Th-there's people I absolutely have to meet, super important ones—'
'You're worried, aren't you? About being around us in that state.'
'....Urk.'
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And she had picked up on the anxiety I hadn't told anyone about—not even fully admitted to myself.
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'We've been sharing a bed now, after all.'
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I'd been underestimating Dana.
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'Care Drone TCAT-3000. Officially classified under GG transport drones, and the orders you gave to all transport drones were for observation, recording, and relaying anomalies. TCAT was always on standby by your side.'
'Ian's mistake was passing the conversation you had with Dr. Woojin in the smoking room via comms to Vex. TCAT's strongest feature is its comms powerful enough to reach orbit. Naturally, its ability to intercept local signals is top-notch too. Per your orders, TCAT recorded all captured external comms.'
'....Dana.'
'Thanks to you designating me as TCAT's secondary owner, data mining wasn't too hard. I heard the conversation those two had in the smoking room, and confirmed that TCAT's [owner] had already accessed that comm data.'
'....And that message from the enigmatic [Collector] too.'
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Dana wasn't just some pretty, frail girl. I'd been too dismissive of the proper survivor who'd scraped by in the wasteland, digging up info and dealing with all sorts of vicious bastards in that body.
With less info than me, she'd grasped the situation brilliantly and predicted my actions.
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'Emotional or physical stimulation exceeding a certain threshold accelerates variant transformation. It's already progressed to the point of prominent external changes. Since you died once and came back, the lifespan you were given must be short.'
'The unusually high playback counts on variant transformation records and Collector records means there's a connection between their info. Rushing off alone like this, with so many other urgent matters, to avoid dying alone means something in there holds a clue to improving your condition, right?'
'Uh.... Dana? I'm starting to get scared. You figured all that out just from TCAT's logs in that short time?'
'Forgot? Back in your green days, your info broker was Speed Wagon.'
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I'd expected her to get mad about me leaving her behind again, but instead, she saw me off with a smile.
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'Go on. You can't hold out without going, right?'
'With war right around the corner. If you turn into a monster amid the chaos, you might end up slaughtering everyone around you with your own hands. You're just trying to deal with yourself like the ticking time bomb you are. Through that shady Collector woman.'
'....In 4World. I killed a lot of my people with my own hands. I don't think I can endure it anymore. Not when there's no way to turn it back.'
'That game's still mass-producing mental breakdowns, huh.'
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I'd never known it could feel so good to have someone understand a problem I'd been rotting away with internally—one tied to my life and others'—before I even voiced it.
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'Go and come back. I won't tell you not to get hurt. I've been through it a few times; time to learn.'
'....Sorry.'
'It's fine. I don't want to raise our kid with a guy who might blow up any second either. Like always, come back a total wreck.'
'Thanks for understanding.... Hm?'
'What's up? Something wrong?'
'Ah, no, what did you just say....?'
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And I'd never known there could be news a hundred, a thousand times better than being understood.
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'Professor, so what did you think I'd been coming to the hospital every day these past few weeks for?'
'No, well, Dana has your chronic condition, and, uh, as you know, I'm in this freakish physical state right now....'
'Oh really? Who was it that came at me so passionately despite [that body]? Hmm? Honestly, my stamina couldn't keep up with you. That's why I mistook my early exhaustion for that.'
'Then, don't tell me....'
'Me and the baby are both still healthy. A bit too healthy, even, so we have to go for checkups every day.'
'Huhuhuhu. Rabbit was sulking because she lost to me. Deer Sis was thrilled, saying since the kids are the same age, she can mooch off us into the next generation.'
'Uh, u-uuuh....'
'It's early pregnancy, and there are plenty of people here to help, so don't worry and go.'
'Wha, whawhawha....'
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After that, my head went blank; I barely remember how I got through the checkpoint.
All I recall is the woman who'll be the new lady of the Park household commanding me: 'I have zero intention of becoming a widow, or letting our [little saint] care for a single mom, so go fix your problem.' And to think of a name for the baby while I'm at it.
Even now, two days later, it was still unbelievable. Just thinking about it felt like staring into a blazing sun—impossible to face squarely with eyes open.
"....Hyde."
No response to the name that slipped out dazedly. It was just a habit of thinking aloud like consulting someone.
"Your dad's a dad now."
What would he have said if he heard? Laughed his ass off, for sure. Professor Park, who after 25 years in reality and 28 in GG—for a total of 53—had finally ascended to proper manhood, only to blunder into an unplanned mega-project via rookie control slip-up, right before war.
He'd have cackled that I'd raised the death flag so high it was like charging into medieval melee waving a banner.
At the same time, with a face as happy as mine—maybe happier—he'd have chattered nonstop with me.
『Recall Cynthia (13) from the parent observation class a few weeks back, lounging revolutionary-style against her chair. With just a flick of her fingertip, she had the whole class standing at attention, then paraded through their ranks to greet you: 'Thanks for coming despite your busy schedule, Father,' soothing the fidgety teacher. Doesn't that mean the new sibling should keep distance from stepsis for a while?』—stuff like that.
Or heated debates on 『How to explain my existence to the child, distinguishing 'Hyde' from the 'imaginary friend' every kid under 7 has.』
Or huddling over 『What name would calm down still-fuming (bet-my-hearts) Dana.』
"Hyde."
No answer, but each time I uttered the name, it felt like a tiny light flickered in the space he'd carved out in my chest.
"What do you think."
How should I, who will gradually, and a bit faster from now on, become something not-me, proceed?
With all those seemingly separate events converging to one point now. What am I even looking at?
Vroooom—!
The truck, barreling down the dusty road for the second day with zero threats, faced its destination amid the boredom-spawned reveries.
Finding Heung An Mandu's outpost amid the countless mountains west of Sector 40 wasn't hard.
No matter how many valleys, only one had been scorched black a few months back when someone torched it to drive out variants.
I topped my complicated thoughts with the face of my friend I'd never actually seen, and happily floored the accelerator.
The answers to my dilemmas would mostly be at the destination he'd ferry me to.
One at a time. Like when I first started traveling in GG. That's how I'd think.
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