Picking Up (4)
Just to clarify upfront, I'm not seriously asking anyone to deal with that Jungwon guy. This is all about building ties with the gorillas. In a way, it's straight-up politics. Who knows what kind of poison that remnant might feed Leader Gorilla. One wrong move, and the whole pack could come raiding our shelter.
First things first, gotta check if he's actually gone back there.
I'd told them he got kicked out half-forcibly. Arms and legs broken, total dead weight, so they ditched him without a second thought—or something like that. But now that his leg's fixed, odds are high he swallowed his pride and slunk back to the pack. Especially since I'd mentioned Wi Ho Chang's records were stashed there. That was one big reason the Blood Cult remnant came to this forest in the first place—to chase down Wi Ho Chang's traces. Nothing's more sacred to terrorists than their symbols.
So yeah, recon was necessary.
Here's hoping Leader Gorilla's got some brains.
If that Blood Cult bastard somehow survived and weaseled his way into a key position, it'd be a real headache. Smart guys always get the good spots. No matter how dim that Jungwonite is, he's gotta be sharper than a gorilla. Unless he's dumber, which would be hilariously pathetic in its own right.
At least Leader Gorilla seemed pretty sharp.
Understanding language is one thing, but wielding it freely? That takes serious intelligence. No wonder language is the alpha and omega of human civilization. It's what let us build endlessly on what came before. Leader Gorilla's no slouch either, but experience is the kicker. Could he spot human cunning? Big question mark.
Or maybe those two just click.
Wi Ho Chang—the Blood Demon—raised him with TLC, after all. Their ideologies might overlap. Hell, they even fought territorial wars against Ppareumbo's kind back in the day. Too many red flags, and way too close for comfort.
At least we've got our own nuke...
I turned to glance at our little apocalypse bomb.
"Kyuu! Kwyu!"
"Peep!"
Our mutually assured destruction device, Tyrano, was gleefully playing fetch with Wonmo. If the gorillas came at us, Tyrano would get caught in the crossfire too. Sure, her mom's in a deep slumber right now, but the fallout would suck. Leader Gorilla knows it, so he's probably keeping things civil. Still, better take precautions first.
"Hey. This good?"
I scribbled a protest letter on Gallery-bought paper and got Kkobong's input. First time doing this crap, and Jungwon script feels awkward as hell. Wanted to just hand it off to him, but the big lug can't write. He knows the characters, but those gorilla fingers? No finesse.
So we did it Kkobong-style: him scratching huge letters in the dirt, me copying them down neat.
"It's good. And toss in a few Wall Valley Pills..."
"..."
Kkobong trailed off. His eyes locked dead on my back. No one there—just Ppareumbo hanging off me like always. From her view, handing enemy gorillas Wall Valley Pills? War crime. Kkobong got the vibe and backpedaled quick.
"...Or some nice, roasted sweet potatoes."
"Sweet potatoes... Got it. Way better idea."
Wall Valley Pills were iffy, but sweet potatoes? We had 'em coming out our ears. Planted tons 'cause the kids devoured them. Saw Kkobong scarfing 'em down—good bet the other gorillas would too.
Problem is getting there...
I had a rough idea of gorilla turf: where the forest turns full jungle. But knowing and surviving their welcome party? Different story. Not full hostile, but tense enough—they might charge on sight.
"Hey, Kkobong."
"Hm?"
"You on bad terms with 'em, right?"
"They banished me. Said I can't see, fur's white."
Real discriminatory bullshit. And he's Wi Ho Chang's heir, no less. Says a lot about gorilla manners. Course, he's fat and happy now, so grudge's faded.
"Then come with. You know where their turf starts, sentry spots too."
"Sentries?"
"Guards at the entrance."
"Ah. Yeah, I know."
Prep done. Time to head out.
I rolled the protest letter into a scroll, tied it off.
Feels weird.
Packed essentials: weapons, sweet potatoes (fresh-harvested, not street vendor style). All bribes, basically.
"Ppareumbo, you stay put today."
"..."
Gently pried her off my back. No clue how gorillas would react to her—safer without. She wasn't thrilled facing her mortal enemies either; hopped down easy.
Back felt empty without her weight.
"#$%%."
[Says a messenger needs a mount.]
"Pass. And that's a giraffe, not a horse."
Ludwig van Errolt tried sneaking Largo in, but no dice. Giraffe in jungle? Tree salad buffet. Fully geared, Kkobong and I set off for gorilla land.
"Peep!"
"Yeah, let's roll."
No Ppareumbo? Fine—insurance via Tyrano. Left Wonmo home.
"Kyuuuaang!"
"..."
Wonmo threw a fit to tag along, but Ppareumbo blocked her. Broke my heart... nah, too cute.
Title: Gallery Lord Weeps, YasaengGrill (Photo of Wonmo crying "Don't go")
Quick errand, but she wouldn't let go. Back soon tho, had to snap this cutie lol
ㄴCheonma) Every time I see it, I crave a pet.
ㄴSwordTasteStar) Same. Thinking of getting a puppy.
ㄴThat's no puppy, it's an owl-bear?
ㄴSwordTasteStar) Cute's cute.
ㄴFair point lol
ㄴCute is king!
Explosive reactions, as expected. Cute Wonmo is always right.
"Peep?"
"Tyrano's cute too, obviously."
I scooped him up, rubbed cheeks. He purred, tail wagging—happy camper.
Pushed through forest to Kangaroo Pit. Guards still posted at entrance.
"Tough gig, huh."
"Puuung."
They recognized me, waved hello. Noisy inside, but ignored—kangaroos weren't priority. Skirted pit, entered jungle proper. Summer humidity cranked up.
Heads up from here.
Unmapped territory, gorilla central. But landmarks held: Wi Ho Chang's handprint, Leader Gorilla's too.
"This you guys?"
"Yeah. Brother did that one. Mine's home."
"What was Wi Ho Chang like? Cranky?"
Blood Demon: history's worst terrorist. Private life supposedly fine—Hitler was "nice" too.
"At first... weird. A lot. Cried, laughed, muttered."
"..."
"Vowed revenge... then quit. Just lived."
Blood Demon couldn't escape Four Seasons Forest either, huh. Details in records, but no escape? Unsettling.
No surprise—even dragons can't.
But he "escaped" differently.
"What? Ascended to heaven?"
"Literal. Skyward. Never returned."
Beyond forest, beyond mortal coil. Mind-blowing. And he'd blocked it multiple times? Wi Ho Chang intrigue building. How'd he train gorillas?
"Uooo!"
"Uo!"
Mid-thought, gorilla roars echoed. Looked up—pack in trees, brandishing crude wooden clubs, posturing.
"Kkobong, what're they saying?"
"Halt. Move, we throw."
"Throw wha—"
Splat!
Odd thud ahead. Brown, squishy mess on ground. Brain clicked—Olfather's words.
Right, monkeys and apes...
They fling shit when threatened. I backed off slow. Tyrano probably saved us from a barrage.
Signaled chill, rummaged sub-space backpack.
Out came a sweet potato. Threat display paused; they stared.
Now.
Gathered branches, leaves—roasted it up. Sentry gorillas looked baffled.
"Come down. Got words. This is good eats."
"Uho ho. Uho. Ho ho."
Kkobong translated verbatim. They eyed each other—wary still. Can't blame 'em: me plus exiled Kkobong? Threat level max.
But...
Steamy aroma wafted.
Could they resist?
I offered golden-roasted goodness.
"Try it. Yum."
"..."
Temptation won. One descended cautious-like. I set potato down, backed off. He snatched—hot!
"Hot hot! Hot!"
Duh, steam city. I chuckled, watched him huff it cool, then chomp.
"...Uooo?!"
Eyes bugged; inhaled rest. Then chest-thump, choking.
Wolfing sweet potatoes = throat clog city.
"Here, water."
Prepped for this—handed bottle. Disposable anyway.
"Huaa."
Glugged, survived. More potato left. Offered protest scroll + spuds.
"Deliver to your boss, more where that came from. Saw me roast, right?"
"..."
"Just drop off. Easy."
Got it via Kkobong. Feels bribery-adjacent. Waited.
Another gorilla down, eyeing goods.
"Whatcha think?"
"...Hm. Hm."
Snagged scroll and potatoes slyly. I fist-pumped internally, handed over the rest. They beamed at bounty.
"Uuoo! Uo!"
"Thanks for chow. Will deliver."
"Pleasure's mine."
Bounced. Mission accomplished—homeward. They were potato-obsessed, ignored us.
Won't burn the scroll, right?
Watched from afar—just in case. No mishaps; scarfed spuds. One grabbed scroll + potatoes, headed baseward.
Relief.
"Let's head back."
"Peep!"
Job done, turned—mind eased. Planning next moves when—
Rustle!
Bushes thrashed. Weapon out, no hesitation. Experience screamed: never ignore bush rustles.
Where?
Just rustle, no follow-up. Animal passing, probably. Stay sharp.
Approached slow.
Nothing.
Paranoia. Still, uncharted turf.
One step—
Crunch!
Weird underfoot. Branch snap, loud.
"Huh?"
Straight, smooth stick on ground. Not gnarly—polished tip one end, feathers other.
Feathers?
Arrow?
Gorillas making bows now? Spears maybe, but bows? Nah.
"..."
Face hardened, pocketed it in sub-space. Bad vibes.