Chapter 251
Chapter 251
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 251
Chapter Title: 104. Beyond the Fog (1)
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The best way to gauge the enemy's intentions and identity is to take a prisoner.
But prisoners are typically captured when you hold superior forces and strike the enemy at a time of your choosing.
In a desperate one-against-many scenario, setting or hoping to capture a prisoner is the delusion of a madman.
Last night, with no clue how many enemies there were or if reinforcements might arrive, I killed every one I could.
There was one boy barely clinging to life, but given his wounds and condition, he wasn't in any shape for interrogation, so I granted him a mercy bullet.
The soldiers kept watch around the area, and once dawn broke, we cleaned up the bodies.
With four soldiers on hand, the cleanup went smoothly.
Aside from the one whose face was half-mangled by grenade shrapnel, the rest had intact faces and no major disfigurements, so there wasn't much aversion to the task.
But as we lined the bodies up in one spot, a few suspicious details emerged.
They weren't wearing anything like military uniforms or insignia that could identify their affiliation, but they did share one common trait.
"They're all kids."
The soldiers seemed focused only on how young the attackers looked.
"Where the hell did these kids come from?"
"Kids who escaped from some facility?"
I saw it differently.
Though their faces were draining of color and cooling to the touch, I could still make out the vivid remnants of evidence on them.
First, their nutritional state.
No one was overweight, but none showed absolute malnutrition either.
A face turning blue from blood loss doesn't mean the fat accumulated under the skin leaks out like fecal matter from the anus.
Second, their hygiene.
All of them were clean.
These weren't the faces of people living in filth without access to basic sanitation.
Even sniffing their clothes, I caught a faint scent of detergent.
The biggest issue was their weapons.
The eight I killed were all armed differently.
From the one with a riot shield to handguns, shotguns, rifles, and even a semi-automatic sniper rifle.
No high-end gear like night-vision goggles or accessories, but their weapons were well-maintained and clean. The ammo was shiny and new, filling their magazines to capacity.
In other words, military-grade upkeep.
"......"
A chilling hypothesis flashed through my mind.
Man hunters.
The true identity of the monster that periodically assaults Post 328—one without known form or substance—might not be the awakened boy soldiers I've killed, but something far larger, a leviathan no individual could face.
Which means this outpost could be a training ground.
For those low-level awakened soldiers to gain real combat experience.
My predecessor and I serving as EXP fodder for the awakened soldiers destined to lead Korea's future.
While the soldiers finished the last of the cleanup, I made a call.
"Hey, I've got a question."
"Sure, what is it?"
"About my predecessors."
"Predecessors? Oh, I don't know much. I haven't been here long enough for a proper handover."
"Nothing major. Just, what age group were they?"
"Age group?"
"The logbook at the post made it seem like they were around my age. Got me curious."
"Different from you, Park Gyu."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. I think they were all in their 40s or older."
Forties.
A generation useless on this island.
Not among the "chosen" adults, nor the ones stuck doing all the dirty work everyone shuns.
"......"
I'd heard stories from World War II about how the Japanese army made recruits bayonet live Chinese POWs to death.
Something similar, but far more malicious, is unfolding here.
Using worthless old folks as training dummies for the youth shaping the future? For the Jeju humans who've already left millions to die, it's probably no big deal.
Park Seung-su arrived shortly after I'd reached my own conclusions.
"I heard you were attacked!"
He scanned my face and body.
The moment his scan ended, his expression stiffened for a split second.
Disappointed I wasn't injured, perhaps.
Park Seung-su then checked the bodies lined up in rows.
"?!"
His eyes widened in shock.
"Th-this."
He turned to me.
"You took care of all of them... alone?"
"Yes."
I nodded.
"They weren't that skilled in combat. Once I took out the fighters, the rest might as well have been civilians."
"I... see."
The body inspection began.
I followed silently, watching his face, but he always kept his back to me, so I couldn't read it clearly.
But I definitely noted how he lingered longest on one body, studying the face.
That one was the leader who threw the spear at me.
After a deep exhale—sigh or groan, hard to tell—Park Seung-su finally turned to me.
His expression was neutral.
"Runaways."
The word "runaways" raised doubts, but I stayed silent and listened.
"Kids who couldn't adjust to the facilities, left the safe zones, set up hideouts in these mountains, and raid people and farmers to survive."
"Is that so?"
"Yes. Now they house all students inside the walls, but when capacity was short, they trained them in external facilities."
Park Seung-su lit a cigarette.
"Looks like some who escaped back then were hiding here."
I looked him straight in the eye.
"For runaways, their guns were in good shape, and they looked pretty well-fed."
The cigarette in his mouth twitched violently for a moment.
"Pardon?"
He turned to me.
His gaze sharp as a blade.
I ignored it and pressed on.
"Hygiene was decent too. Clothes washed in soapy water recently, faces clean."
"What are you getting at?"
His tone sharpened noticeably.
I met his piercing eyes with a calm stare.
"Trainees?"
"What?"
"They're trainees, right?"
I asked firmly, concisely.
Watching his reaction.
Park Seung-su's face cycled through shock, anger, composure, then contemplation—the classic pattern.
"......Trainees? That's absurd. Isn't your imagination running a bit wild? I get the situation's serious, but."
He seemed skilled at emotional control.
Even when hit dead-on, he could brazenly recover.
Fine by me.
Whatever plots he's hatching, or has hatched.
All that matters is my survival.
"I want to get off this island now."
I stated my demand.
Park Seung-su averted his eyes slightly, looking at my feet with a bitter smile.
"Ah, that's not for me to decide."
"Who do I need to ask?"
"It's under Jeju Defense Agency jurisdiction, but I'll put in a word. To get you off as soon as possible."
"How soon?"
Coldly pressing, he finally met my gaze.
Glare locked on me, he said clearly.
"Won't take long."
"When?"
"Within a week."
"Fine."
I turned away slowly, expressionless.
"......But if another attack like this happens, I'll take prisoners."
I glanced back at Park Seung-su's face receding from view.
It was rigidly frozen in terror.
Park Seung-su's vehicle left with the bodies.
The soldiers who'd come to help were itching to leave too.
"Sorry. We'd love to take you with us, Park Gyu, but different units. Regulations say we wait for the shift change."
Their uniforms differed from the soldiers I knew.
With National Crisis Committee insignias, probably their direct guard unit.
"No problem."
I excused myself and requested the most essential item.
Weapons.
Only stronger weapons guarantee my life.
Weapons come in varieties.
Ones that kill directly like guns, ones that create advantages in specific situations like grenades, or ones that temporarily impair enemy combat ability like smoke or flashbangs.
What I asked for was more ammo.
I secured 90 more rounds.
Plus six grenades and two combat knives as a bonus.
The moment the soldiers left, I sat at the computer.
I told her everything I'd experienced, seen, and deduced.
Unicorncon didn't believe me.
Or rather, refused to.
Na Hye-in's face and voice had grown hazy, yet somehow I hallucinated her bowing to me.
Plip! Plip!
Raindrops tapped the window.
A downpour was coming.
I generally avoid meddling in others' circumstances or thoughts.
But not now.
I wanted to hear it.
No, I needed to.
"......"
Time to face reality.
Both Na Hye-in and I needed to shed our childish shells and look each other in the face.
Just three years ago—no, one year ago—this would've been unimaginable.
The lone wolf Park Gyu, trapped in his own world, boldly extending a hand of reconciliation to Na Hye-in first?
But the world doesn't bend to one person's will alone.
Communication especially.
I'm ready, but she isn't yet.
"......"
I'll wait.
I've been trapped in the maze I built myself, after all.
Just hoping it's not too late.
Thick rain veiled the outpost window.
*
No matter how fucked the situation, there's no law saying I have to bury my head like an ostrich and wait for death.
I'm still actively posting in my new domain online.
"......"
Click
"......"
Click
Known as the Comment Angel or Emote Angel on the Red Archive board, having built a solid rep—this Park Gyu can't just quit that easily, right?
I've even got fervent fans(?).
But lately, something feels off.
...
...
Searching "Skeleton" pulls up a flood of negativity.
Started small, but growing.
They say antis scale with popularity, so inevitable.
Anyway, the common attack is that I'm a "non-gamer troll."
"Non-gamer troll" means someone who doesn't play the game but stirs shit in busy boards.
"......"
Hard to deny outright.
I have Red Archive installed, but the emulator for PC-mobile play lags like hell, and I never liked games anyway—mobile ones especially get no glance from me.
Haven't even finished the tutorial.
Eh, no big worry.
They're just mad I skip their comments.
If they act up, I have ways.
This board allows nick changes—basically anonymous—but not total troll haven.
Can't get IDs, but "notes" on users stick even after nick changes.
"......"
Tap tap
Noted them.
No emotes for these guys ever.
As I curated my user list,
Unicorncon messaged me.