Chapter 224
Chapter 224
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 224
Chapter Title: 95. Omen (6)
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All people say it.
There's no place as good as your own home.
m9 thought something similar.
But exploring m9's home—which far surpassed the ordinary slope humans expect—required tremendous resolve for anyone else.
"What're you doing? SKELTON? Not coming in?"
m9 turned back toward me, frozen at the corridor entrance.
"Ah, no. I'm good. I already had some tea earlier, after thinking it over."
It wasn't true.
I hadn't drunk any tea today.
It was just that a fierce warning from deep inside screamed not to step further into that perilously warped slope.
"......"
m9's home was a four-dimensional demon cave unlike anything seen on a computer screen.
There was no sense of where to step or grab; one slip meant plummeting to death amid deadly traps.
Even I, who had trained away my fear of heights, felt it brimming with danger.
Rustle—
After one misstep sent a pebble tumbling into the abyss below, I hadn't budged from the spot.
"Hey. SKELTON. What's up? Come on in. We gotta have some tea."
m9 sensed my hesitation like a ghost and grinned from ahead, waiting for me to enter.
That didn't mean I had to go.
His apartment was just an observation post, not a field trip to uncover his ecology.
"Hey. SKELTON. Why aren't you coming in further? Don't tell me you're already overwhelmed by The Hope?"
"......"
"Makes sense. No one's ever left my place with a smile. Hang on. I'll bring out the tea."
As m9 excitedly headed inside, a roar echoed from outside.
Like a heavy building collapsing.
It was common around here, but I had no desire to get dragged into m9's pace anymore. I bolted out of The Hope and back onto the rooftop.
"Phew."
Outside was better, at least.
Unlike m9's home—more twisted than a spider-type labyrinth—out here, you could at least tell up from down.
As I leaned silently on the railing, killing time, m9 emerged with steaming tea.
"Never thought I'd meet you like this."
We sat side by side on the railing, gazing at the vista below.
A gray wasteland of ruins, empty of everything, but m9's face showed no particular worry.
"Back when I first came here."
m9 broached casually.
"This whole area was the envy of everyone."
That's when I noticed the camera-lit phone in his hand.
I glanced at him sideways.
"What's that? Filming?"
"It's almost live on Viva! Apocalypse!, right?"
"Live Apocalypse......"
"Anyway, with a rare guest like you, I've gotta milk every bit of content."
m9 grinned at me.
"How's it been lately?"
"What?"
"Living feel good?"
"Living......"
Another way to phrase the will to survive, I guess.
Who knows.
I'd never really tasted anything in just carrying on with life.
Daily fulfillment, satisfaction, little joys—those were probably the nutrients I needed to get through each day.
"Nothing fun anymore."
I sipped m9's tea and answered honestly.
m9 nodded.
"Yeah. The internet's not as fun as before. Fewer people, less to talk about. That Melon Mask guy's trying new stuff, but it's only novel at first—always fizzles out ambiguously. Yeah."
m9 looked up.
"Everything's just... meh."
Meh.
Maybe it fit all of us, discarded in this fading era.
Not dying cleanly, not ending spectacularly.
Just withering away with the world, neither here nor there.
In a time like this, it was probably the natural flow.
But m9 was at least thrashing to break free of it.
"Blasting monsters with artillery, huh?"
He filmed Seoul's streets on his phone and asked me.
"Yeah. That's why I'm here."
"Then let's get started. Make as many good shots as we can!"
I stood.
There weren't enough monsters yet for full artillery requests.
They were slowly grouping from Hwaseong toward the west.
But picking them off one by one wasn't bad.
I donned GPS-linked special goggles and targeted the riverbank.
The red lenses synced, displaying coordinates instantly.
I radioed them in.
"Coordinates confirmed. Firing."
A dry artillery voice responded, then a whistling descent like a ghost yanked from the sky. Perfectly controlled shells slammed devastation exactly where requested.
BOOM!!
Buildings crumbled amid the roar, dust billowing. m9 couldn't hide his awe.
"Incredible."
The Republic of Korea's artillery discipline and skill were world-class.
If us old-school hunters were close-range specialists, the ROK Artillery was queen of mid-to-long range.
The air force could play firefighter in a pinch, but only artillery delivered stable, precise fire support on demand.
"That's the plan—thin out the hordes heading to Seoul with support fire."
Today's targets: mid-sized monsters only.
If we had leeway, I'd love to shell every one bypassing the Han River into Seoul, but we lacked the overwhelming force from back then.
"Coordinates confirmed. Firing."
Since the war began, the Republic of Korea had steadily weakened and shrunk.
The military was no exception.
Expect what we could.
The dry battle began.
From the tilted apartment roof: spot enemies, call coordinates, fire.
Legion faction elite artillery erased dawdling mid-sizers from existence on receipt.
As repeats piled up, m9 joked.
"What? Easier than I thought? Monsters ain't shit."
From a third-party view, maybe.
But it worked thanks to superior artillery, spotting gear, and The Hope standing tall in enemy territory.
We couldn't even gauge monsters and zombies below our feet.
"Zombies? Yeah, their numbers are down lately, but they still roam at night. Same with those weird monsters."
Without a base like The Hope, safe spotting was impossible.
m9's "easy battle" dragged into late night.
We called countless coordinates, annihilating hordes.
Fewer monsters than expected helped stabilize things.
No intelligent large-types as feared; packs scattered west without group action.
Once, with spare time, I handed gear to m9 for a call.
"777! Heavy barrage! Fire!"
Our m9 reveled, testing his new toy thoroughly.
By afternoon, ominous signs stirred east.
Riverbank fog thickened, drifting closer, shadows of plenty monsters beneath.
I asked Kim Daram about west Seoul.
"Situation here? Not good. Defending with empty tanks, but endless."
To aid her, m9 and I called coords all night, blocking reinforcements to Seoul with max effort.
No crises beyond nearly slipping asleep off the railing.
Spot, kill, shell.
A day no different from routine battlefields in old China.
But the world was no longer lenient.
I learned that right after parting with m9 and returning to our Seoul spot.
*
"Good work, sunbae."
Thanks to m9 and me?
Despite horde approaches, civilian casualties were low, military losses minimal.
We sniped threatening mids from afar, but Legion soldiers and hunters claimed big shares too.
Main reason: far fewer Han bypassers than expected.
Real issue came next.
En route to The Hope, I'd seen white smoke plumes from the chopper.
Even then, it felt off—memories of similar smokes and smells from China ops.
Back in Seoul streets, I saw them.
Piles of corpses smoldering white smoke.
My gaze turned to Kim Daram.
"Kim Daram."
I eyed the bodies.
"What is that?"
Kim Daram answered without looking.
"Zombie corpses."
"Where'd so many zombies come from?"
She sighed, glaring.
"Think of them as zombies."
With a weary expression, she brushed past me toward the barracks.
True to form, she didn't forget my earlier request.
"You had something to ask? Left an aide. Tell him. I'll handle what I can."
After she left, I turned to the corpses.
Soldiers and workers loaded unburnt bodies onto carts.
I knew their owners well.
Zealots.
Soon as monster invasions hit, Legion rounded them up—gassed them en masse during battles, it seemed.
No blame for their methods.
Zealots were humanity's enemy.
Left free, they'd aid monsters, inflicting worse damage.
But mass human-on-human extermination always darkened my heart.
China was the same.
Expressionless soldiers killing, burning, dumping people casually—it induced inexplicable drowsiness.
Sights of once-lively souls dragged, ignited, pulverized into eternal sleep stirred unbearable ennui.
Now replaying in Korea.
Thoughts swarmed, but I pushed them away.
Instead, recalled the small bond and motive that brought me here—and acted on it.
"Oh. SKELTON! Truly thanks! Thanks to you, I can send Dajeong to the Chuncheon hospital!"
Defender's bright face didn't ease my mind.
"I'll drop by next time with Dajeong!"
I waved smiling, but the darkness around me thickened.
"......"
That day, Legion radio broadcast successful Seoul defense and Sino-Korean armistice talks.
People praised Kim Byungchul's leadership and Legion strength, but I saw different.
Humans systematically killing and exterminating humans.
Another omen.
Of this world hurtling to doom.
But gains too.
"What? The Hope might collapse?"
Post-op, heading back to Seoul.
I'd joked to m9 about The Hope.
90% collapse risk.
Not just my take—universal from afar.
Seeing his value in battle, I casually suggested.
"If it's gone when you leave, come to our neighborhood. No tilted houses, but empty ones aplenty."
My magnanimous offer, but m9 just smirked annoyingly.
He eyed me curtly.
"Y'know, you seem way more like a hunter than John_nenon."
At the sudden praise, I looked puzzled; m9 grinned, patting his building.
"Even if The Hope collapses, don't worry too much."
m9 stroked it fondly, smiling.
"Where I am is hope."
Suddenly, I refelt the building's tilt and weight beneath us.
A thought struck.
Maybe hope wasn't straight—but tilted.
My viewed despair probably no different.