Chapter 67: Hot and Warm Like the Sun (6)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 67: Hot and Warm Like the Sun (6)
Half of me wondered if Yellow would be camped out at the arcade early again today, while the other half doubted she’d be there from the crack of dawn two days in a row. Regardless, I finished my preparations early Monday morning and headed out. The moment I stepped off the subway—which was packed to the brim with commuters—a wave of sweltering heat swept over my face.
Normally, the weather should have been cooling down by now, but a late monsoon season had brought a lingering heatwave. It didn't feel like the end of August at all. If this heat continued, the training scheduled for September was going to be unbearably hot. I was genuinely worried.
Even though I was going as field control this time rather than a participant, the fact remained that I’d be stuck out under the scorching sun all the same.
I arrived at the arcade, where the sounds of countless games echoed at once. Perhaps because it was Monday morning, there wasn't a single person there. That’s right. Not a single soul.
Even Yellow was nowhere to be seen. I let out a sigh, thinking I’d made the trip for nothing. The chances of running into her had been low to begin with, but the memory of the heat outside made me immediately scrap any plan of heading back. I picked a decent spot and sat down.
I sat in front of the very fighting game I had miserably lost to Yellow at last week. Since I had nothing better to do, I popped in a coin for a round. Being the only one there, the only sound was the game itself, allowing me to play in relative peace.
Yura and Hayoung’s assessments of Yellow differed slightly.
Since Yura had been deployed with Yellow during an emotional situation, her perception of the woman remained negative. Hayoung, on the other hand, hadn't had a direct conflict with her, but she seemed to have formed her own interpretation based on the glimpses she’d caught.
Calling it "her own interpretation" might make it sound like she was just imagining things, but I didn't think that was the case. In Hayoung’s eyes, Yellow was likely "someone who doesn't know how to convey her emotions as they are, and thus expresses them aggressively."
It was a point worth considering. It was possible her personality was simply socially inept. However, even if that were true, it didn't immediately improve the poor impression I had of her. Not that my opinion mattered much.
There are plenty of people in the world who are bad at expressing their feelings. My direct superior, Luche, is a prime example; she rarely expresses her emotions clearly and often resorts to a harsh tone. Yet, I had never seen anyone complain about her methods or clash with her emotionally.
Ultimately, even if the behavior is similar, it’s all in how you handle it. Luche proved that a clumsy personality can be shaped into something everyone can accept through one's actions.
She probably didn't set out to prove that intentionally, but watching Luche, you could feel that she cared for others, however awkward she might be about it.
But Yellow was a different case entirely. Actually, she was very different.
While they shared the common denominator of being bad at expressing emotions, the actual form it took and how others perceived it were worlds apart. In the process of expressing her feelings aggressively, Yellow didn't hesitate to say things that hurt others.
I could try to understand her one more time. She just has that kind of clumsy personality, I could say.
But it was hard to accept. Just because I knew someone was socially awkward and that their words were coming out harsher than intended didn't mean I had any reason to sit there and take it.
Yellow’s words and actions toward Green weren't something that could be overlooked just by knowing she was "clumsy." Of course, it would vary from person to person.
If she had friends and interacted with them smoothly, they would likely take her side. But with a personality like that, I highly doubted she had any decent friends.
"Huh?"
Lost in thought while fiddling with the joystick, I realized I’d lost. The "Game Over" text was on screen, and the countdown had already reached five.
"I lost."
Thinking I’d give it one more go, I put in another coin and continued.
I ended up tasting defeat again at the final boss. I considered putting in another coin, but it felt like continuing wouldn't be a "real" victory, so I waited for the countdown to end. Just as I was about to reach for more change, I heard the sound of a joystick being manipulated from the machine directly opposite mine.
Had I been so deep in thought and focused on the game that I hadn't even noticed someone arriving? Just in case, I stood up slightly to check the person on the other side. Sure enough, there was Yellow—dark blonde bob cut, wearing a baggy hoodie despite the heat—staring intensely at the screen while moving the joystick.
"She actually came."
Seeing her play, it looked like she’d be camped out there for a while, so I sat back down and put a coin into my machine. The game started, I picked my character, and began the fighting game again.
It was just Yellow and me in the arcade. The only sounds were the two of us busily rattling our joysticks while fighting the AI.
As I played, I caught a glimpse of the screen on the machine opposite her. Sitting across from her, I could watch her play without being too obvious. I couldn't help but marvel at the relentless combos she was pulling off.
I wasn't an expert on games, but I had enough knowledge and experience to judge whether someone was good or bad. As I’d felt last week, her skills were jaw-dropping; this wasn't something she’d picked up in a day or two.
She was good enough that she probably could have made a name for herself in local tournaments.
"Oh, oh... Ooh!"
I let out quiet exclamations of admiration while watching the screen from the opposite seat. Before I knew it, my own game had ended in defeat, the countdown had passed, and the attract mode was playing, but I didn't care.
I was completely captivated by her surprisingly flashy skills.
How much did someone have to play to reach that level?
Games were truly fascinating. Playing them was fun, but watching someone who was actually good was just as enjoyable. It felt good to get a sense of satisfaction from watching high-level play that I could never replicate.
I’d been watching her play for nearly thirty minutes when my senses finally returned, and I remembered what I was supposed to be doing. My task was to investigate Hunter Killer's Yellow.
I snapped out of it, stood up, and moved as if I were heading for the exit, observing Yellow as she played. I couldn't tell if she was hyper-focused or if her mind was blank. She sat there with an unreadable expression, her hands moving the joystick with dazzling precision to control the character on screen.
I debated how to proceed when it suddenly occurred to me that watching someone else play in an arcade was a perfectly normal thing to do. The reason this obvious fact only just hit me was because I was Spacetro. Even last week, I’d only thought about getting closer when there was a bit of a crowd; before that, I’d kept my distance out of caution.
But thinking about it again, there was no way she would recognize me. I never took off my helmet during our battles and had never exposed my face to the outside world. I’d forgotten something so basic because of the tension of surveillance. Even though I realized I wouldn't be caught, the lingering nervousness stayed with me as I stepped up behind her.
Yellow didn't show the slightest interest in the fact that someone was standing behind her, her focus entirely on the game. It seemed less like she was ignoring me and more like she simply didn't have the mental bandwidth to care while playing.
Then, in the brief moment after clearing one stage and moving to the next, I felt her acknowledge my presence with a sidelong glance. Fortunately, our eyes didn't meet, but my heart skipped a beat at that momentary look.
It wasn't that Yellow had realized who I was. It was just the natural reaction of someone looking back because there was a person standing behind them while they played.
Watching Yellow dive back into the game, I began to ponder how to investigate her further. Coming to the arcade to observe her like this was fine. However, I didn't know when she would show up, and her range of activity was unpredictable. Waiting for her indefinitely at the arcade was a massive waste of time.
Then, my eyes fell on Yellow’s hands. Watching her hands rapidly move the joystick and mash the buttons, I noticed how clean and efficient her movements were. Looking back at the screen, I was suddenly reminded of Yellow’s movements during our fight a few months ago.
"Ah!"
I let out a loud exclamation without thinking. Startled, Yellow whipped around and glared at me. To be honest, I was terrified by the sheer annoyance in her eyes. I quickly apologized. "I'm sorry."
As I watched Yellow return to her game, I couldn't help but compare the character's movements to the way she had beaten me months ago. I could see the silhouette of Yellow fighting with her tonfas in the character's animations.
I never imagined that watching a game screen would trigger a memory of being hit. From that moment on, the way I viewed the game changed. I imagined the enemies Yellow was pummeling were wearing Spacetro infantry suits, and I realized that many of the various moves Yellow had shown in real life were right there in the game.
Just how much...
Just how much did she have to play to copy these movements from a game?
Just how much...
To be able to execute those movements perfectly just by playing a game... just how much...
How much time had she spent playing games alone, without a single friend?
It was the moment my suspicion that Yellow had no friends turned into a conviction.
To be blunt, none of the Hunter Killer members really had friends. Yubin didn't have any; Yura had lost the few she had; and Hayoung was so busy looking after the children that she had no time to make any. Green was the same.
But unlike the others, who lacked friends despite wanting them, I felt a strong certainty that Yellow either voluntarily avoided making friends or simply couldn't keep any because of her foul temperament.
After clearing the boss, Yellow stood up and shot me a sharp, lingering look of irritation.
"You're being fucking loud."
I was left dumbfounded by her blunt, profanity-laced remark as she walked away. I hadn't expected her to snap at me with such cold, decisive annoyance.
"Hah, wow."
I had no intention of doing anything about it, nor did I have the ability, so all I could do was sigh. Yellow left the arcade. I decided it would be dangerous to follow her immediately, so I stayed put for a moment. It wasn't like I’d learn anything new about her right this second anyway.
If she didn't come back to the arcade, I wouldn't be able to observe her anymore today, but watching her play had taught me one thing: if I stayed at the arcade, she was bound to show up eventually.
With a "whatever" attitude, I stepped out of the arcade to grab lunch. After eating, I considered calling it a day, but decided to check the arcade one last time just in case.
And there she was. Yellow had already returned and was gaming again.
Just how much does she love games?
As afternoon rolled around, I saw a few more people drifting in and out of the arcade. A few people stopped to watch her as they passed by, but Yellow ignored them completely. It wasn't just that she was focused on the game; she seemed utterly indifferent to her surroundings. Thinking about her treating her own teammates with that same cold indifference made me feel frustrated on their behalf.
Let’s review one last time. To Yura, Yellow is a woman with a shitty personality. To Hayoung, Yellow is someone who is bad at expressing emotions. And the Yellow I saw was a friendless woman who loves games.
One method of learning more about her—someone who had zero points of communication with others—came to mind, but I was reluctant to use it and tried to think of an alternative. But no matter how much I racked my brain, only that one method remained.
To find out about someone who lacks any social hooks, there is no other way but to approach them first. It wasn't that I hadn't intentionally approached Hunter Killer members before, but I felt a particular discomfort about being the one to initiate contact with Yellow.
Still, since I’d resolved to investigate her myself, I had to see it through.
However, since I couldn't think of a way to approach her immediately, I decided to just watch her until she left the arcade to go home.
As evening approached, the arcade grew crowded. Yellow stood up after winning a match against a human opponent. Watching her walk toward the exit, I followed her from a safe distance.
Just like last week, I carefully trailed her as she took the subway, wandered through the market to buy food, and headed toward her home.
When she turned into an alleyway, I hurried after her so as not to lose her. The moment I rounded the corner—
"What's your deal?"
I came face-to-face with Yellow, who was standing right there.
"!"
I’d been so busy stupidly lost in my own thoughts while following her that I’d forgotten the very obvious fact that Superhumans have sharp senses.
"Uh, well..."
"What are you? A stalker? You've been bugging me since the arcade. Did you follow me knowing I'm a Superhuman?"
The reason she openly declared herself a Superhuman wasn't to distance herself by triggering the typical civilian prejudice. She was stating that she could overwhelm a normal person with her physical abilities and could beat the crap out of a stalker like me right here and now.
"No, it's not that."
I had never been this nervous facing any of the other Hunter Killer members. That was because I’d always encountered them in ways that didn't seem suspicious, and I never thought they would resort to physical violence even if I acted a bit strange.
But was it because of my perception of her? Or was it the current situation? I was so tense that I couldn't even think of what to say first. If Yellow used physical force on me here, it wouldn't just end with me getting hit; my identity could be exposed if things went wrong.
And even if she rarely communicated with them, she was still a member of Hunter Killer. She could tell the others that Spacetro was tailing or monitoring them.
I had to come up with an answer. I needed a response for Yellow, who was glaring at me while tightening her grip on her shopping bag—an answer that would show her I didn't have a suspicious motive.
An answer that would make her lower her guard even by one percent and stop her from using force on a guy who looked suspicious to anyone's eyes!
"Please... teach me how to play."
It was the worst possible answer. It was so absurd that it would take the number one spot if I ever compiled a list of my life's worst remarks. Why did I think of that at this moment? Was it because I’d spent the whole day watching her play?
Upon hearing my words, the intensity in Yellow’s glare vanished. Instead, she looked at me with an expression of pure disbelief.
"I've been going to arcades for a long time, but this is the first time I've seen a bastard like you."
She must have been dumbfounded. I completely understood. I was so baffled by my own words that I couldn't believe it; how must the person being followed feel?
The absurdity of the request to "teach me the game" had outweighed her unpleasantness at being followed and her wariness of a suspicious stranger. Yellow wasn't even angry anymore.
"Even at a glance, you look like you've never played a game in your life."
Just as I could see her screen from the opposite machine, she must have seen mine. I hadn't thought she’d actually looked.
She probably only caught a glimpse, but it must have been enough to make her sigh at my pathetic skills.
Yellow, who couldn't wipe the look of disbelief from her face, let out a sigh and glared at me again.
"I really see all kinds of weirdos. Figure out the game yourself at the arcade. If you follow me again, I'll actually kill you."
It wasn't just a warning; it sounded like she genuinely meant she would kill me. A cold sweat broke out. She gave me one last glare before turning around and heading toward her home.
It was an absurd answer no matter how I thought about it, but thanks to it, I’d managed to escape the situation. That didn't mean the crisis was over, though. I was now branded as a "weirdo" in Yellow’s mind, which would make observing her at the arcade a major problem moving forward. Depending on the circumstances, I might have to give up on close-range observation.
...For now, I’ll go home and think.
*
Taking the elevator to the top-floor penthouse, Yellow felt the usual emptiness of the vacant home. she spread the food she’d bought on the living room table and turned on her gaming console.
"Please... teach me how to play."
It was the first time in her life she’d been followed, and while it was ridiculous, the words that followed were so absurd she couldn't even laugh.
"What a nutjob."
The stranger she’d met for the first time left her with nothing but the impression of being a "nutjob." She wiped the situation from her mind and started her game.