Chapter 98
Chapter 98
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 98
Chapter Title: Chapter 7 Masquerade Ball (14)
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***
Contrary to the initial worries, the exosuit had no trouble moving even with two or three extra people aboard.
“Ugh! Uuuugh!”
“No way! I’ve gotta hop right into combat on this thing! I don’t wanna spend all day smelling puke! Professor! Do something about your friends!”
“Look far away instead of close up, Bex! Uh... right, think about the ocean! The ocean!”
“I’ve never seen it... the ocean... uuuugh!”
The only issue was that everyone aboard except the driver was suffering from massive motion sickness.
“Your friends are quite... full of energy.”
“Keuhehe, yeah, those guys are a little peculiar.”
“I remember that friend of Professor’s not looking like that.”
Ralph and Ian chatted as they gazed at the chaotic scene unfolding in Axel’s exosuit next to theirs.
“What kind of guy was he back in the day?”
“Hmm... Well, for starters, he was the opposite of energetic. Always lost in deep thought, not much of a talker, sharp eyes...”
“Him? I haven’t known Professor that long, but I can’t picture it at all.”
“I couldn’t picture it either. That friend of his... turning that bright—”
“Uwup, gruuuup!”
“Uwaaaah! It’s coming! It’s coming up!”
“Axel! You guys on board! Pass the machine gun over here!”
“Uweeeeek—!!!”
“Heyyy! I have to turn that back in to the armory!”
“You give up one to get one. Suck it up and take the ass-chewing for the sake of combat readiness!”
.
.
.
.
“Uh... um... turning that bright...”
“Keuhehe. Right after the war ended, so about five years ago. Back when Park Professor was still nineteen. They say ten years can change rivers and mountains, but five years is more than enough to transform a teenage kid. Especially one living in the wasteland. You can’t survive out here without changing.”
“Just write it off as a loss! One ammo drum’s no big deal!”
“Bullshit! Don’t spout crap you don’t understand! There’s this inspection department lady in the armory whose eyes go (＼ / ) like this when she’s pissed, and if even one thing goes missing, she comes at you ready to flay you alive!”
“Uweeeek!”
It was familiar territory. Victory might as well have been guaranteed. But this was still the lead-up to a massive battle. Professor, Bex, and that Axel guy were still this rowdy on their way to kill people.
It was a sight he’d seen a million times. Back in the military, back in Raptor—before every op, the guys yukking it up with crude jokes and dirty talk.
“It’s their way of loosening up, I guess. Facing death every day, it’s probably seeped into how they live.”
“Ah, not Axel, though. That guy was missing a screw even before he joined the inspection department.”
Chijik—
“[Chief Mont! Bex says he spots a battery up ahead!]”
“That’s the word. Third Squad moved them right after pulling out of the garage, so even walking down to the Dome won’t take long. You said you’re joining the fight—what’s the plan now?”
Ian cracked his neck side to side as he eyed the trailers and blocky gray lumps starting to appear as tiny dots in the distance.
“Who knows. That’s...”
“Ian! Hop off at the battery! We’re splitting off from here for a bit, then linking back up!”
Heh.
“Our leader’ll decide.”
Ian curled the corner of his mouth as the trailers drew nearer, the massive shadow behind them coming into view.
A colossal city that even the wasteland’s thick sandstorms couldn’t conceal.
The Dome loomed right before their eyes.
***
Axel wasn’t the type to spook easily. Sure, his reactions were about twice as over-the-top as most people’s, but when someone’s truly shocked or flustered, they don’t yell—they choke, words catching in their throat.
“Huh... huuuuh...”
From that angle, Axel was massively shocked right now.
About ten minutes earlier, Axel had gotten orders from Montclair: “There are still folks inside the inspection department who don’t know about this, so head to the armory with them, explain the situation, and join up with us.”
‘Since your chief gave the okay to open the armory, you can grab whatever, right? I said it plain as day?’
‘Sure, give it a whirl~. I’ll just relay what the chief said: [Open the armory within reasonable limits], so handle it yourselves real nice~! Ehehihi!’
They’d probably figured to toss a few guns their way out of pity—Raptor’s main force with half-wrecked Aks and all. But even with the chief’s say-so, the armory was run by “the Witch of the Inspection Department,” “the steel-poisoned old maid”—infamous for grilling them over every last bullet and fighting tooth and nail not to hand anything over: Armory Manager Karel Vivienne. As the inspection department’s hub for rare, cutting-edge weapons even by Dome standards, her stinginess had veteran chiefs shaking their heads.
‘Chief Mont must’ve rubber-stamped it, banking on her ironclad defenses...’
“Th-this one! How about this? Latest electromagnetic rifle from Life and Murder...”
“Hmm, sorry, lady, but I’m not big on guns with electronic mechanisms.”
“Ahh, a man of taste, as expected! Then this! Not quite classic, but no electronics guaranteed! 2037 Hand Cannon! Great for area denial and anti-personnel...”
“Oh. Nice. Mind if I take it?”
“Y-yes! Absolutely!”
“Huuuuh...”
“Huuuuuh...”
“Joe’s got... skills like that?”
Next to Axel stood Professor and Bex—who’d barely scored one rifle and a single ammo belt from Vivienne’s snake-eyed glare—staring at the armory with equally hollow expressions.
Cheeks flushed bright red.
Eyes sparkling.
Tiny gestures, single words, and she snapped to attention, frantic to give more.
A cutesy, coquettish baby voice laced with flirtation, desperate to impress.
Just minutes ago, she’d been chain-smoking, corpse-pale, her tone sharp as a blade as she hounded them. Now, after a quick chat with Ian, she was a smitten schoolgirl, beside herself.
“Ugh, cha! This’ll do. Wouldn’t mind more, but...”
“N-no, take all you need...!”
“Nah, nah. Just enough to fit my bag. Right... Vivienne?”
“Ah, Anne! Call me Anne!”
“Got it, Anne. Thanks for the help, lady.”
Click, click!
“Hmm, lighter’s bone dry...”
“M-my lighter!”
“No need—got something better right here. One sec.”
“Wh-which one...!!!!!”
Cigarette dangling from his lips, lighter tucked away, Ian closed in until their breaths mingled. One arm snaked around her neck...
Trrrrkk—
He pressed his cig to the lit one in her mouth and took a deep drag.
Ian’s rugged face filled her vision; her heaving breaths fanned it like bellows, the ember glowing as it passed the flame.
Fuuuu!
“Thanks. Won’t need to scrounge for a light on the battlefield—this’ll hold me.”
‘Ahh, you’re too cool!’
Ian’s big, rough hand finally swept over her flushed cheek, and Vivienne blacked out.
Ian strolled out of the armory, leaving the fainted Vivienne behind.
Clap,
Clapclapclap—
Clapclapclapclap!
His effortless swagger had Professor, Bex, and Axel clapping without thinking.
“Keuhehehe! Close your traps, you idiots. Jaws’ll hit the floor.”
“H-how the hell... that witch...”
Ian flicked Axel’s forehead at his parental-betrayal panic.
“Ow!”
“Wrong thinking from the jump, you half-baked punks. Every lady’s got a diamond’s sparkle inside. I just gave Anne’s hidden beauty a gentle nudge.”
Eyes on pathetic little brothers, he chided the shell-shocked trio. Professor spotted a side of his old friend he’d never dreamed of: a laid-back, women-seasoned guy in his mid-thirties.
“What kinda life you been living...”
“Casanova... Iron Casanova...”
“Hyyuuung...”
“Dome armory manager. Goodwill’s worth banking.”
“S-so... you played that lady? For the guns?”
“Filthy bastard...”
“Tsk tsk tsk. Kids. Look at Anne.”
The three glanced at the armory at Ian’s urging. There lay Vivienne, collapsed clutching Ian’s hem, cheeks still rosy.
“See that blissed-out look. You lot staring at her like a witch or spinster every day kept her inner woman buried. Women bloom beautiful when loved. I scored weapons; she reclaimed the femininity she craved. Fair trade, yeah? Win-win—weapons for dreams.”
“Hey, Hapbun. Hear that? Trade... mutual benefit...”
“Scummy fuck...”
“Hyungnim, swing by the inspection department when shit calms. Wanna pick your brain over drinks, serious-like.”
“Hehehe. Enough gawking, you rookie cherries. Time to roll.”
Professor eyed Ian’s hefty iron bag—like it was no big deal—then glanced at the gear in his and Bex’s hands.
2040 semi-electronic rifle. Single-shot bolt-action volt rifle. Civilian hunting model.
One manual small shield mount.
Bex.
Two vibro-knives.
2050 riot-control portable kit. Impulse laser, aka Impulser. Shockwave generator.
vz81 Scorpion submachine gun.
They’d begged their asses off, but she’d just repeated “Firearms, especially long-range ones, are tough to check out externally” and tossed these scraps. Bex got a tad more with her “Suffered enough in your old age” pity, elder-respect bonus.
And.
Another Day fusion SMG. 2050 model. Full kit.
Three tossable anti-tank guided missiles, “Good Boy.”
Royal Gauntlet hand cannon. Left-arm mount, 950JDJ / 24.1mm shells, 4-round burst. Joint-assist parts included.
Special ops frag grenade “Atom.” x2.
Upgraded anti-tank mine, magnetic Claymore “Flamberge.” x2. Wireless detonate.
First lightweight compact hexa-compression shield gen, “Aegis.”
Plus ammo belts draped all over, his iron bag stuffed with faves...
Thank god Ian reined in the old maid, or he’d have stripped the place bare.
Staring at Ian’s haul—miles beyond his and Bex’s pitiful take—Professor felt an odd defeat sink in.
***
Chijik—
[RM-01, this is EZ-07. Op support and battlefield return complete.]
[Not in signal range yet, so relax, Axel. Quicker than I figured? Vivienne send you packing empty?]
Montclair’s words drew muffled chuckles over inspection comms, plus chatter about “BDSM” and “armory.” He’d tipped them off last time—BDSM joining, vague thumbs-up, rookie Axel fed to Vivienne’s jaws—so they’d guessed the outcome.
[Uh, about that...]
[Eh, what can ya do! Vivienne’s a pro, sharp as hell! Armory’s overflowing despite high-tech gear burning through stock faster than it rolls in—all her doing! Chin up, come spectate quietly. I’ll hook you up with gear. Can’t fight barehanded! Hahahahaha!]
“That’s the line.”
“Sigh. Ralph hyung’s a real sly dog. Figures—an old-school blunderbuss, impulser, couple knives? No way to wedge into Raptor mains versus exosuits. Salvage rights turn to confetti. Nailed justification and gains, Mont hyung. Nearly handed the Dome the W.”
“If I hadn’t been there. Keuhehehe!”
“Euhehehe!”
Clank!
Axel scrambled to open comms, watching Professor’s crew unpack brutal weapons from the massive iron bag behind his exosuit.
[Uh... Chief Mont?]
[Hahaha! Tough break, Axel. Told outsiders armory’s open—bet Vivienne ripped you a new one. Send BDSM inside the Dome, you frontline. Enemies pinging radar now.]
[No, the armament...]
Glance.
“Hey, you know how to handle this?”
“Damn right. The powders whisper to me. Launch me! Blow me sky-high!”
[Th-the BDSM crew looks ready to—]
“God, dense. Axel, comms.”
“Ow! Hey, quit shoving!”
Professor—now festooned with gear, squashing Axel under the weight—shoved in toward the comms.
[Ahem, Inspection crew, it’s me. That BDSM boss from before.]
[Huh? Oh, Professor! Sorry ’bout that. Permission’s fine, but armory’s Vivienne’s turf—]
[Skip it! Confirming Chief’s green light. Salvage okay, merc rules apply, right? Indirect kills/secures to hosts, guests get direct kills/secures?]
[Uh... yeah, technically... You serious about jumping in? City defenses or not, it’s war. Victory’s lock, but casualties happen. Your gearless BDSM pals? High odds of—]
[OK. Noted. Catch ya on the field!]
Salvage rules locked—politics cleared.
“Professor! Locked and loaded?!”
“Yeah! Solid confirm here! Recorded it! You?”
“Keuhehehe. Me? For boom time—”
Clank!
“Anytime!”
“Joe, don’t go eyes-glazy and spray! Shred an exosuit, you’re indebted for life!”
“Keuhehehe! You too—don’t eyeball foes all sane-like! You’ll crack!”
“Hmm... Hapbun? Joe’s already off his rocker?”
“His fight mode. Babysit like last time.”
“Kek.”
Suuuuup—fuuuuu.
Professor watched the crew stretch out, drawing a deep lungful. Familiar dust laced with metal and oil. Tension hanging thick, almost visible.
The battlefield’s perfume whispered no more schemes needed. Just full-throttle clash.
Slap!
Professor cracked his cheeks hard with both hands, nerves strung tight, glaring at the dust clouds blooming beyond the horizon.
“Alright, pals! Time to kill folks and cash checks!”
Axel’s radar faintly showed red enemy blips packing the far side of the friendly line.
***
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