Reap What You Sow
After polishing off a banana latte as an evening appetizer — the taste wasn't half bad, surprisingly — we set about preparing the grilled tiger belly.
Just as expected, the gamey stench was brutal, but the spices stocked in this school's cafeteria were more than enough to blast that funk into oblivion. Even after the absolute chaos of fighting an orangutan in here, the ceiling shelves still held pepper and all sorts of seasonings. A genuine stroke of luck. I also scavenged a metal tray lid that had been lying around near the kitchen and used it as a base plate for the campfire.
We cracked open the hallway windows, and the kids huddled close, watching the flames crackle and pop.
"Shall we put it on?"
Yejin picked up the thickest slab of belly fat with the tongs and looked at me. I nodded.
"This heat should do it. Go ahead."
Sizzle—
As the meat hit the iron plate and began to drip oil, the bright red flames danced hungrily beneath it. Soeun — the one who'd created those flames herself — watched with a complicated look on her face. Beside her, Chaeyeon chimed in with a teasing lilt.
"Hmm... one of us probably doesn't even need to wait. Just slap a piece on your palm, make a fist, and it'd be done in like ten seconds, right?"
"...Get lost. You gonna wipe the grease off my hand if I do?"
"We should really try it next time we're outside. Heh."
She snickered, then shot me a wink as if asking what I thought. I just shrugged, and muttered inwardly.
So. What was it you wanted to talk about?
Well, Master. A few days ago you said you'd grant me one favor. Do you happen to remember?
...Ah, right. Day seven. You said you'd tell me today. That.
What kind of favor needed a countdown this precise, anyway?
Honestly, it was a bit ambiguous. I expected Alphas to show up, but I had no way of knowing when they'd appear after the prologue ended.
This favor of yours has something to do with those Alphas?
...Yes. But it's not that dangerous. Probably.
At that vague non-answer, I narrowed my eyes and stared hard into the campfire.
The odds were even fifty-fifty, so I was on the fence about whether to bring it up at all. But then that insufferable mummy bastard told me himself, and I became certain.
What? What the hell does that mean?
She talked to that bastard directly?
Yes. While you were outside today, he reached out. Not particularly surprising. The Welfare District I belong to and the Apocalypse Enforcement Division have always been inseparable — whether we like it or not.
I'll walk you through the conversation we had, step by step.
Everyone had gone outside. Inside the quiet book café, she was enjoying a brief rest within the laptop left alone on the sofa when a message arrived in the chat window.
That arrogant tone told her exactly who it was in an instant. She frowned and looked away. As if he'd anticipated the snub, the next message arrived immediately.
Haaah.
In the end she sighed, and Crow — no, Nindrea — opened her mouth.
"What do you want? I don't recall us having anything to discuss."
Direct superior or not, they belonged to entirely different branches. There had been almost nothing — official reports or personal matters — that ever required them to cross paths. Until now.
Even if the other party was someone rather famous within the Greater Dimension.
"...What kind of content?"
"Civilization fragment? What era are you living in? It's been called Project Gear for ages now."
"...Why are you asking me that?"
As she fell silent, the messages kept coming one after another.
"...It is. I confirmed it myself."
"Because I saw no need to, obviously. No matter how extraordinary that person is, calling him an anomaly of the world is a massive overstatement."
"I understand your love for your little creations just fine, but unexpected miracles do happen from time to time. And I did help him quite a bit, you know."
The moment that message appeared, Nindrea's eyes went wide and she blurted out urgently—
"No, don't you dare! Even if you come here in person, my answer won't cha—!"
Shrrrrrrrk—
A thin fissure split open across the chat window, and through it an overwhelming mass of bandages erupted all at once. In the blink of an eye they flooded the entire chat interface, nearly engulfing Nindrea herself. She gritted her teeth and scrambled backward.
Then every last bandage gathered into a single point and formed a human shape. A fedora and a tailored suit coat materialized from thin air and settled onto the figure as naturally as breathing. The being turned its gaze upon her.
"Nindrea. It's been a few hundred years since I last saw you in person."
"...I was hoping to stretch that to a few thousand, at minimum."
"I'd love to sit down over a cup of tea and catch up, but as you know, being an Apocalypse Progressor keeps me terribly busy. Three questions. That's all."
He walked over with measured steps and looked down at her bird form, which was bristling with wariness.
"First. Did that human use the Breath of Cocytus — classified as D-rank — against the Beta?"
"...He did."
"I see. Must have been quite the spectacle. I did personally set cold as its weakness, so it wasn't entirely out of the realm of possibility."
He rolled his hollow eyes once, surveying the surroundings, then spoke again.
"Second, then. Were you aware that in the process of using the Breath, that human was directly exposed to it alongside the Beta?"
"...No. I didn't know."
"Is that so? Strange. I was under the impression that a civilization fragment's administrator could see through any behavioral data on the user within the activation range."
"That's not how it works. Only for someone I've personally acknowledged and completed a contract with — not mere activation—"
"And if not that human, who else would you contract with? I'm well aware of your fondness for human insolence, Nindrea. Those who throw themselves into danger without a care for their own lives — you secretly form contracts with them, call them Master, and quietly grease the wheels for them behind the scenes."
"....."
"The desperate act of playing dumb is rather adorable."
He raised an arm and pointed at Nindrea. The bandages coiled around his forearm unwound of their own accord and slowly stroked her fluffy feathers. She shuddered and swatted them away. The mummy spoke again.
"Third and final question."
"How is that human still alive after being exposed to the Breath? Under normal circumstances, no matter which part of the body was exposed, every drop of blood should freeze solid and result in instant death."
He smirked, revealing a glimpse of the hollow cavity of his mouth.
"We've received inquiries from Transcendents who find it utterly fascinating that he's still walking around perfectly fine. Blood freezing over, frost pouring from the wounds — and yet the life persists."
Apparently one of the Transcendents was so intrigued they wanted to know the principle behind it.
"Nindrea. Do you know what he is?"
"....."
She couldn't say a word. She could only avert her gaze.
"I've lived as an Apocalypse Progressor for over a thousand years, and this kind of anomaly is a first. It's genuinely troublesome."
"You aren't harboring some futile hope, are you? Like that case from long ago. An apocalypse broken by an anomaly of the world."
The mummy looked at Nindrea with unreadable eyes, then murmured softly.
"Born of the Greater Dimension, and yet that pity for lesser beings remains unchanged. But Nindrea — nothing will change."
"Thanks to the higher-ups, I learned of his existence in advance. Which means I can take preemptive measures."
"...What are you planning to do?"
"Oh, nothing dramatic. If it were up to me, I'd just release a Gamma and crush him cleanly underfoot. But that would spoil the Transcendents' entertainment."
"I hear the Transcendents played quite a few tricks with the supply crates this time? I ought to take a page from their book."
The mummy swept a hand through the air, manipulating something unseen, then looked back at her with a smile.
"I'll release Successors nearby and inform them of his existence. They'll handle the rest on their own. And the process should make for suitable viewing for the Transcendents as well."
"That's not fair! A concentrated Alpha spawn? I've never heard of a penalty like that—"
"My policy is to thoroughly stamp out the sprouts of any world anomaly."
"And it's not as unfair as you claim. Because of you, Nindrea."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"You know the homeland of these Successors is the dimension from the previous apocalypse progression, don't you?"
"...Don't tell me."
"I wove your connection into it. Who knows? Maybe they'll go easy on that human because of you."
The mummy laughed — a chilling, gleeful cackle.
And back to the present.
"...So. What's the bottom line?"
You need to find that being as soon as possible. Before the other Alphas in this region catch wind of your existence.
Thankfully, right before the first Alpha was set to spawn, I pulled some strings and adjusted the location. Closest to us, and first to spawn.
You need to pull her in and somehow make her an ally. That's the only way we have even a sliver of a chance. So...
"...You're telling me to track down this Alpha and negotiate?"
I made a face of pure disbelief, forced to speak aloud the words I'd been holding inside.
Wait — they can even hold a conversation? They're not just mindless beasts like the Betas?