Chapter 46
Chapter 46
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 46
Chapter Title: Moving (2)
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The core of Defender's relocation plan was the truck.
He'd somehow procured a five-ton refrigerated truck.
All their belongings were loaded inside, and his sister was one of them.
[Hi.]
She showed me her tablet screen and waved.
"Hey."
The moment she saw me, she typed something up and displayed it.
[You've lost a ton of weight? What happened?]
"Just kidding. I was imitating John_nenon."
Defender's sister turned serious at my words and stared at me. Then her fingers flew across the screen like lightning.
[That's why you keep getting flak for imitating weirdos. John_nenon's alt nickname was 183cm83kg3cm, right? Ugh. So obvious. Crystal clear. He's consistent, I'll give him that.]
After gleefully roasting John_nenon, she set the tablet down and suddenly stared at me intently.
"Hey, SKELTON."
She spoke aloud.
Up close, her face looked exhausted and drained.
It felt like the first time she'd ever initiated a conversation with me, so I just watched her quietly.
She met my eyes for a brief moment before looking away, hesitating over something.
Did she have something to say?
As I waited in silence, she picked up the tablet again.
[It's nothing. Mr. 197cm100kg30cm.]
"No, that's just John_nenon-style strong personality assertion."
[Go see your brother.]
"Hey."
I could just leave, but she was a Defender too.
"If something's bothering you, spit it out."
She definitely had something weighing on her.
She was just hesitating to say it for some unknowable reason.
I couldn't solve everything, but I could at least listen.
"No worries?"
I hadn't been like that in the past.
Beyond worries, I'd known they were suffering, nearly in despair, yet I'd left my juniors, peers, and seniors to their fates.
I'd dismissed their pain as weakness and chalked it up to a lack of qualifications to face monsters.
As a result, I'd lost countless comrades, watched them leave.
Connections I could have saved vanished into the smoke.
"Don't regret it later."
Maybe I was saying that to both her and myself.
Defender had spread out a map made by taping together four sheets of printer paper in the living room, checking the route.
"Oh, SKELTON. What do you want to drink?"
"Water's fine. Let me see the map."
I stood next to Defender with my arms crossed, studying the map and route.
His plan matched what he'd announced online.
Zombies – Fanatics + Monsters.
Avoiding soldiers, pass through two less dangerous zones.
Once through, they'd be safe for now.
Pioneers might show up occasionally, but compared to soldiers, fanatics, or monsters, that was nothing.
Meanwhile, the marked destination was about 4km west past my territory.
Abandoned land there too.
Close to a U.S. airbase hit by nukes, plus hundreds of cruise missiles slammed into it.
Could anyone live there?
I asked out of curiosity.
"Where are you settling?"
"Your bunker."
"You know that's not happening, right?"
"Obviously a joke."
Defender's sister had snuck up and was holding out her tablet with something on the screen.
It showed an abandoned country house.
A courtyard-style home where every rare window was shattered, and part of the outer wall had collapsed, exposing the interior like a broken eggshell.
"This place looked decent."
"Doesn't look that great."
"Outside's rough, but the basement's solid. No idea what the previous owner did, but they built a nice living setup down there for no reason."
"Bunker?"
"Nah, gambling den."
"When did you scout it?"
"A while back."
"A while?"
His sister piped up from the side.
"Our big bro's hobby is house hunting."
Defender shrugged.
"Knew the vibe here was off from the start. So I checked out properties everywhere."
"Why not pick a good spot from the beginning?"
"Couldn't afford it."
"Really?"
"This isn't our house."
Defender glanced at his sister with a faint smile.
She listened quietly with an ambiguous expression.
"For real?"
The siblings nodded at me in unison.
Shocking.
So they'd moved once already?
How'd they join Viva! Apocalypse!?
They didn't seem to be joking.
Only one possibility came to mind.
The Defender siblings were raiders from the start.
At the war's outbreak, they'd turned raider faster than anyone, killed the unknown owner of this house, and taken everything.
Including the future famous Defender's Viva! Apocalypse! account and satellite gear.
Defender, sensing my suspicion, stood up innocently.
"Let's head out before dawn. Not staying the night, right?"
His sister stared after her departing brother and suddenly asked.
"Leaving now?"
"Yeah. Get in the truck."
"What about Dad?"
First time I'd seen it.
Defender's sister getting serious.
Her voice was still soft, but it carried a sharp resolve that wouldn't back down easily.
For a moment, I recalled her weary expression from earlier.
"Leaving Dad behind?"
Defender stopped.
Without turning, he said,
"You handle it."
"I don't want to."
"Neither do I."
Defender turned and glared at his sister with cold eyes.
Murder-tainted, ruthless gaze—but she held her own, staring right back without flinching.
Sibling rivalry.
Moving house really was a big deal.
Surprisingly, the staring contest ended with big bro losing.
"......Do what you want. I don't care."
Uncharacteristically deflated, Defender slunk away.
She'd been glaring at her brother, but now she slumped against the living room sofa like a deflated balloon, letting out a shallow sigh.
"What is it?"
I asked her again.
She looked at me with tired eyes.
"SKELTON."
She called my nickname, then slyly averted her gaze.
Instead, she grabbed the tablet.
Her black-manicured fingers danced across the screen, revealing the finished message.
-You think we're weirdos, right?
"You know it."
-SKELTON's never had a girlfriend, huh?
"Plenty of girls liked me."
-Why are people like that?
"......"
-Got a favor to ask.
"A favor?"
-Keep going from home, there's a cliff with a theme park view. Hanging corpse right there.
A hanging corpse?
Was that what she'd meant earlier?
The one on the same level as the siblings.
-That's our dad.
"......So it was your father."
I stared at her.
I won't deny my gaze mixed reproach and interrogation.
I got what kind of people the Defender siblings were, but even accounting for that, their actions had crossed a line.
She avoided my eyes but seemed to know exactly what I was thinking.
"I know what you're thinking."
She spoke aloud.
Small, creeping voice.
But brimming with overflowing emotion.
"Sorry, but could you check the corpse's belongings?"
"Why not do it yourself?"
My tone was so icy even I was worried.
She flinched, looked around in panic, then curled into a ball, head down, barely squeezing out,
"......Scared."
"What?"
"Not just me. Bro fears it more."
I couldn't grasp it at first.
A corpse scaring them?
The siblings who killed people regularly, handled bodies, uploaded videos.
I watched her quietly.
Curled up like an armadillo on the single sofa, she trembled lightly, bare feet exposed.
"......Just this once."
"SKELTON."
She looked up at me.
Might be my imagination, but her eyes seemed clearer than when we first met.
"SKELTON. All packed. I'll be in the truck."
Defender swept up the weapons scattered on the table with practiced moves and stood.
"Hold on."
"Bathroom? It's that way."
I didn't answer, left the mansion, and headed to the corpse.
Coincidence or the dead had a message—the clouds had cleared for the full moon when I reached it again.
Under moonlight scattering desert hues on the mummy-like corpse evoking some ruin's fame, I felt like an archaeologist excavating a pyramid a century ago as I rummaged through it.
Thud.
"Oops."
An arm fell off.
No time or leisure to reattach.
Fortunately, the dig yielded a key artifact.
A letter-like envelope in the upper pocket.
I eagerly took the suicide note—it seemed decisive proof the siblings hadn't committed patricide.
But I couldn't read it.
Body fluids, weathering, rain, and snow had smeared the emotions and words like Ozymandias' ruins.
One decipherable character remained at the end of the erased text.
The final words were.
[Sorry. I love you.]
Utterly clichéd suicide note staple.
The truck set off in ominous silence.
Defender drove; I rode shotgun.
His sister squatted in the tiny flat-sheeted space behind the seats.
"Smells like rotten corpse."
Thud!
The truck shook precariously descending the slope.
Probably hit a big rock.
Even in pitch black, Defender descended the steep incline skillfully without headlights.
"Whoa."
I knew it wasn't the time for admiration, but his skill drew it out involuntarily.
"What smell?"
Defender reacted sensitively to the corpse scent.
I glanced at his sister.
She looked at me, then resolved, speaking softly to her brother's silent back.
"SKELTON got Dad's letter."
"Yeah?"
Defender's response was nonchalant.
"What'd it say? Not some clichéd 'Sorry. I love you,' right?"
"How'd you know!?"
I blurted out unwittingly.
But I was like an impurity that couldn't touch the sibling bond.
Like uploading "SKELTON's Beatbox (3)," prime content rivaling Seamonkey Papa's dance, yet ignored.
"Still not too late. Can't we at least cremate him?"
She said earnestly.
"Can't leave him there forever."
"He loved that theme park. Reminded him of our childhood. Loves it even in death."
"Bro."
The truck rocked violently.
A bitter smile crept onto Defender's lips.
"Man, our dad. Same as ever."
He muttered self-deprecatingly.
"Coming back to life at a crucial time to trip us up."
The rough jolting stopped.
The truck hit the road.
Out of the soldiers' most dangerous zone, entering zombie territory.
"Cover the side."
Defender flipped on the headlights.
The light revealed smooth-edged iron bars mounted on the front.
Anti-zombie measure.
Spikes were popular once, but had weaknesses.
Bodies stuck.
Zombies feel no pain.
Sharps were just zombie glue.
Rounded playground-style obstacles didn't wound but made them flail and fall off naturally. No sticking.
Distant zombie groans echoed.
I recalled the map.
Zombie zone was a major detour strictly speaking.
North area you'd never cross on foot or bike.
But roads existed, and to dodge military, no choice.
"Close."
As zombie sounds neared, Defender halted.
Shapes appeared in the lights.
Zombies.
Abandoned city's residents rushed out barefoot to welcome us.
Click.
I chambered a round.
Click.
Sound from behind too.
Sister had a gun this time.
Glancing back, she stuck out her tongue and pouted playfully.
"Seduction doesn't work on zombies."
She didn't really try, did she?
No, with these siblings, maybe.
Anyway, corpse stench inside and out.
"Going."
Amid thick cadaver odor, the truck accelerated sharply.
Zombies lit up vividly.
Red eyes gleaming in dark, craving flesh and kin.
Thud!
Reinforced bumper flung some, crushed others.
"Ha!"
Sister grinned, baring teeth.
Defender smiled coolly too.
"SKELTON! Side!"
These siblings really loved killing.
Bang! Bang!
Two guns hammered the clinging flankers.
Her pump-action shotgun was more effective.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Buckshot rain toppled four at a time.
"Haha!"
Her laughter rose; Defender whistled, flooring it.
Vroooom—
Engine roared, trampling all ahead.
Perfectly exhilarating breakthrough.
It surely reopened the door between the siblings.
Before the gray fanatics' zone.
Defender stopped to inspect the truck.
Especially checked the armor plates on my and sister's sides.
"Bro."
Sister called him in a changed tone.
"Tell him."
She looked at me.
"SKELTON's curious."
Defender sighed shallowly, then bowed his head resignedly.
Intense deliberation furrowed then smoothed his brow repeatedly.
Soon, he pointed back the way we'd come.
"That house we were in."
"Yeah."
"It was the owner's."
"Owner's?"
I didn't catch the meaning at first.
Thought I misheard.
It was light-years from what I'd imagined.
That gap closed instantly with his next words.
"Yeah. Dad was the house servant."
Defender's eerie, murderous gaze cooled into order.
Fixed on a hazy, unwanted past.