Chapter 271
Chapter 271
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 271
Chapter Title: 111. Cold Coffin (3)
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"Well."
How could I possibly understand the thoughts of this cold-blooded man?
Still, since he was curious about my opinion, I should probably give him an answer.
As I paused to choose my words, a group of innocent children passed by in front of us.
One little boy stared blankly at the corpse, but a girl grabbed his ear and dragged him away.
"Kids are great."
D.S. Rae grinned as he watched the children leave.
"When there are kids around, the group looks peaceful. The same goes for loving couples. Those things act as buffers, making this place seem livable."
"So, they're like decorations?"
I asked, watching the children walk away.
"Not exactly. They're useful."
D.S. Rae shook his head.
"Even beasts return to their own dens. Humans are no different, right? Incompetents with nowhere to go don't care where they end up, but every now and then, you get decent folks. People with solid skills, good heads on their shoulders, and strong convictions. For those kinds of people, would they prefer a den of drugged-up human trash living for the day? Or a community with happy families?"
"The latter, I suppose."
I gave a short reply and glanced at the corpse.
"What crime did they commit?"
Better to ask something neutral.
No need to butt heads with this guy here.
D.S. Rae grinned.
"Our community has grown past fifty members now. We've taken in more than the original twenty from Viva! Apocalypse! But you know how it is—when numbers swell, problems always crop up. Everywhere you go. The dilemma of the embedded stones versus the rolling ones. Honestly, among our original members, there are some on the lower rung. They're precious to us, but what can you do? To me, both the embedded stones and the newcomers are valuable."
D.S. Rae wore a meaningful smile as he gazed up at the body hanging from the gallows with hazy eyes.
"Tensions were simmering when we made contact with a group of survivors. Some market merchants' association or whatever. Right from the start, my instincts screamed it: these people are trash."
"Trash?"
"You've seen them before the war, right? Loud, rude, always comparing themselves to others to rank themselves, and above all, ungrateful."
"Did you take them in planning to kill them from the beginning?"
At my icy question, D.S. Rae looked pleased and pointed at me with his finger.
"Exactly."
English for "spot on."
"I knew from the get-go they'd cause trouble. This woman especially—she had a massive ego, the type who bragged about it. We let her run wild. And after that, everything went as expected."
D.S. Rae picked up a pebble from the ground and pretended to throw it at the corpse.
"This woman, who drew the most hate, we tied up and let everyone stone her. Everyone except the kid took part. We made them all kill her with their own hands."
That was the part that disgusted me most about D.S. Rae.
He uses people as tools.
And he wields those tools without hesitation, scruple, or taboo.
"There's that saying about two heads being better than one, right?"
"......"
I just hoped this guy never came near my territory.
The best outcome would be him dying to some other enemy before he ever met me, but this man didn't seem like the type to go down easy.
"One thing I want to ask."
Time to get something in return for listening to his nauseating tale.
What John_nenon wanted to know: the fate of those who chose hibernation. I'd confirm it with my own eyes.
Especially since they supposedly had over ten satellite setups.
Humanity aside, D.S. Rae's capabilities were impressive.
"Ah, that spot."
He knew exactly the situation at my intended destination.
"Better not get too close."
"Monsters?"
"Something scarier than monsters."
D.S. Rae grinned and glared toward the northeast.
"Wraiths live there."
*
Piles of bones clustered at specific points, weathered and rotten booby traps everywhere, crimson paint scrawled like blood splatters with warning messages, and the inherent damp yin energy of the land itself.
Definitely a place where wraiths would dwell.
"This area's called Deokdaegol. They say people here wrapped kids who died before their parents in straw mats and dumped them without burial."
The guide was a young couple.
The man had ties to the area and had evacuated with his wife, crossing paths with D.S. Rae along the way and tying their fates together.
D.S. Rae assigning guides wasn't just for my safety.
Cleverly, he hadn't given these civilians any specific orders.
So there were no obvious tells like probing questions or overt observation that amateur spies might show.
They were simply leading me purely to my destination, called Deokdaegol.
Once I finished and reported back, he'd pry for details.
D.S. Rae could piece together my intentions from scant clues, and if he had suspicions, he'd check it out himself.
Not a big deal.
It was a shame to waste those ten satellite units, but my goal was solely to verify the hibernation results that John_nenon wanted to see.
- Come and die!
- Watch your step!
- Wraiths dwell here!
Messages scrawled across the hillside.
Childish threats, but the elegant handwriting stood out sharply amid them.
Probably from someone well-advanced in years.
"You know the Captain?"
The man struck up a conversation.
"Captain?"
"Yeah. You were talking earlier."
"Ah. Yeah."
Not MG, but D.S. Rae.
Come to think of it, Roca Hoon had called him Captain before too.
"Yeah, we go way back."
"I've never seen the Captain spend personal time chatting like that."
"Is that so?"
"Yeah. So I figured maybe you're alumni or something."
For some reason, this young couple was gauging me.
What can I say—their intentions were transparent.
They hoped I was tight with D.S. Rae and that I'd put in a good word to improve their situation.
Incredible that they could scheme like this in such a creepy, foreboding place.
I could barely afford to lower my guard scanning the surroundings.
"We're internet buddies. There are a few like that in the village too, right?"
I replied half-heartedly, eyes darting around,
"Sure, but you two have a different vibe."
They clung persistently.
Starting to get annoying.
The forest's yin energy thickened, and visible booby traps multiplied, so I halted and warned them.
"Hey, isn't this place pretty dangerous?"
I gestured obviously around us.
It was midsummer, high noon even, yet scant light filtered into the woods.
Overgrown underbrush and vines climbing them blocked the sun, spreading shadows and an eerie chill.
Sinister warnings were scribbled here and there, and rusted, defunct booby traps littered the ground, still harboring malice.
Someone might be here.
The one who wrote those messages and set those traps.
But the young couple shrugged it off nonchalantly.
"They're probably dead."
The man said.
"Folks who lived nearby said there was a hermit killer around two years back, but he vanished one day. Must've died."
They wore expressions like nothing could happen.
As I eyed them disapprovingly, the woman spoke up.
"We're not tagging along for nothing. Head that way. That's where the hermit's house is!"
I could guess the source of their confidence.
They'd explored the area before.
That experience had apparently numbed their fear.
"The Captain knows there's nothing here, but he sends his friend on a wild goose chase."
They kept steering the conversation back to D.S. Rae.
It showed how much sway he held over their lives.
I couldn't know exactly what they thought of him, but fear likely dominated.
No matter how well you dress it up, few would look kindly on a leader who publicly executes over a dozen people.
They must've sensed they could end up the same someday.
"There it is."
Moss-covered, rock-like artificial structure emerged amid the doubts.
A bunker.
Not recently built—likely a Korean War-era facility repurposed.
"The hermit lived here."
As the man said, inside the bunker lay dirty bedding, half-eaten trash, unusable rags—traces of life lingered spookily amid dust and dirt.
"Did you find a body?"
No corpse marks, so I asked the man.
"No. Nothing. Empty."
"There were medicine bags."
The woman perked up, remembering something.
"You know how people with chronic illnesses get bags from pharmacies? He had mountains of them. Our village doc, Mr. Jeong, said they were for diabetes and high cholesterol, but he stopped taking them midway and let it sit."
Useful info, but their stares were burdensome.
They were desperate to score points with me.
"......"
I ignored them and surveyed the area.
There had to be a secret hibernation chamber facility nearby.
"What are you doing?"
"Hold on."
I explored under their cold glares.
First finds: ventilation and a drain.
Unless it was a tomb, they had to be there.
Anyplace for humans—hibernation chamber or otherwise—needed air holes.
"Still nothing?"
"There's nothing here. Don't waste your time."
I found traces late afternoon.
By then, their nagging had grown unbearable.
Clank—
Something crunched underfoot.
Definitely man-made.
I dug with my hands.
Sure enough, beneath wriggling bugs and soil appeared a concrete drain.
From its position, I gauged the secret facility's location.
Over there.
A spot sloped like my own bunker entrance.
Thick trees and plants hid it, but the artificial feel peeked through.
Swish—
Peeling back camouflage blending with nature revealed a rusted iron door before us.
"Huh? What's that?"
The incessantly muttering couple swarmed like bees.
"Need help?"
Obvious motives, but better than a bullet in the back, so I let them.
Thud!
Our combined strength wrenched open the long-sealed bunker door.
"Ugh!"
"Eugh!"
A horrific rotting stench poured from inside.
Corpse smell.
So overpowering we had to ventilate first.
Once the odor cleared somewhat, we donned masks and entered.
There, ten round coffins lined neatly along a central passage, five on each side.
They looked futuristic and high-tech at a glance.
Clearly expensive.
All ten seemed occupied, save one empty spot.
"Look at that."
In the dim gloom floated a lone dangling foot.
A suicide's body.
The couple shone a lantern on the corpse's face.
"Huh? Isn't that...?"
The dry, arid environment had mummified the body.
Even shriveled, it bore enough fame for strangers to recognize.
"Jeong Ho-young?"
"You know him?"
I asked him.
*
As expected, the hibernation chamber was a sham.
Inside the coffins lay desiccated corpses, eyes closed as if merely sleeping.
All dead, without exception.
No telling when, but their states suggested around the same time.
Nelson Yong-beom, whom John_nenon cursed endlessly, was exposed as a fraud.
Yet John_nenon repeatedly raised one doubt in his records.
"Look, that guy—the elder, I guess. He was genuinely smart and sharp. More IT-savvy than me, despite being father-figure age. So savvy he made bank. I can't fathom why such a wise man fell for that scam. That's why I want to check it out myself."
A long silence followed.
I later learned he added one more line after that pause.
"......Whether that elder really signed the contract."
The man who hanged himself alone amid those lavishly coffin-like pods was a local celebrity, it seems.
A regional bigwig who returned home yearly for holidays, showing face and donating.
John_nenon never named the VVIP, but I was certain this was him.
The young man looked at the body on the floor.
"Rumor had it he had bad blood with his wife and kids. They had a huge fight in a hotel lobby once, in front of everyone, so word spread."
"Why the fight? Family's loaded."
"You know the type? Old rich guy using inheritance as bait to control the family. Got worse with age, they said."
The man clicked his tongue at the corpse.
"Always in Seoul, so we thought he died after the war started since no news. Didn't expect him here."
The woman muttered upon hearing that.
"What a pitiful life. So much money, yet couldn't even enter a coffin and hanged himself. Truly, life's vanity."
They didn't know these were hibernation pods.
They assumed the owners despaired and chose easy euthanasia in fancy coffins.
"......"
Various thoughts swirled.
The biggest chunk, refusing to coalesce, linked to John_nenon's doubt.
This old man probably knew the hibernation was bogus.
I couldn't know why he put his family in those pods or his mindset.
Nor why he returned here, stopped meds, lived alone, and hanged himself—that wasn't for me to judge.
He died. His story ended.
Thus, my take was mere speculation.
But here's an unfinished, certain tale.
"Um, sir. Sorry to ask, but could we say we discovered this together?"
"Please. We're kinda on the Captain's bad side right now. It's risky! Haha......"
Those coffins didn't hold just corpses.
Another cold coffin exists, with living people inside.
So even if their story ends, the conclusion won't stay mere guesswork.