Three Rewards
Three rewards had been given. As always, the apocalypse's system was unfriendly. It never told you anything properly. Everything had to be figured out for yourself — a deeply unhelpful, infuriating design. Among the rewards, some, like Seals, were impossible to use correctly without first discovering their true nature. Fortunately, the rewards offered this time weren't quite that complicated.
◈ 1. Helmet of Mind Control
◈ 2. Slastone Candy
◈ 3. A Primer on the Crystal Priests
Reward number one was an item that let the wearer dominate the minds of others. It had a wide range of applications and was quite powerful — by far the best of the rewards on offer this time. But Won-goo knew the helmet's limitations all too well. Once the apocalypse opened in earnest, plenty of survivors with mental fortitude strong enough to shrug off a helmet of this caliber would begin to appear. So in the long run, it was essentially worthless.
The second reward had appeared before, and it made for a rather handy thing to burn in a crisis. The greatest strength of Slastone Candy was that it stacked with other enhancement drugs. Beyond that, it was an item with no real meaning. Then again, it was a consumable anyway.
The third, A Primer on the Crystal Priests, was a book that inducted its reader into the Crystal Order. Devoting oneself to the Order didn't transform a person into some robed acolyte; rather, it granted the opportunity to acquire the various powers the Order wielded. One could earn a succession of titles as well, each one coming with its own perks.
But Won-goo didn't choose this reward. It came with a fatal flaw: anyone who entered the Crystal Order through this primer became unable to wield weapons. Which meant that unless a survivor possessed a very particular kind of Gift, the reward was close to useless. For someone like Kim Yang-cheon with a Penalty Gift, it could have been a strong pick. Likewise, a mage or a psychic who fought without tools could put it to good use. But outside of those unusual cases, the choice was more likely to work against you than for you. There would certainly be survivors who picked it blindly, read the thing, and wrecked their own futures.
So Won-goo deliberated.
The Slastone Candy is the most sensible choice... but what about giving the primer to Mu Beob-sa? No. He'll need to use a weapon later on.
He had already decided which named item Mu Beob-sa would one day wield, just as he had for Lee Hyun-sung. The primer was out.
That made the Slastone Candy the obvious pick. And yet Won-goo still hesitated over the primer — because in pure value, it was worth far more.
"Beob-sa! Beob-sa!"
In the end, he called over Mu Beob-sa, who was busy eating his ramyeon.
"Why call me, that being the case?"
Won-goo gave a brief rundown of the rewards.
"It seems a book would suit you well, that being the case."
"I figured that'd be your take, Beob-sa."
"Couldn't you make use of that shelter's artificial intelligence with it, might I ask?"
"That's exactly why I've been going back and forth."
"Then it's settled, that being the case."
"Still, digging deep into the Crystal Priests doesn't amount to much, does it?"
"Wasn't it you who once said knowledge is power? Worst case, you could always sell it."
"Fair enough. Sold well enough, it'd fetch a decent price, wouldn't it?"
"That is how I see it, that being the case."
"Then it's decided. Go finish your ramyeon."
He chose the third reward.
"Everyone eaten your fill?"
"Yep!"
Once you became a survivor, the amount you ate ballooned well beyond that of an ordinary person. Reinforced bodies came with sturdier stomachs, and the sheer energy expenditure didn't help. Best of all, no matter how much you ate, you never seemed to gain weight — even the former light eaters were putting away two or three packs of ramyeon as a baseline. Which was how an entire box of the stuff vanished in the blink of an eye.
"We'll need to buy ramyeon in bulk at the market. Anyway, listen up while you clean up. Once we step outside, there'll probably be some bastards waiting to greet us."
"A welcoming party?"
"That's right. Hyenas, hunting the bastards who just ate the Tower's rewards."
That gave everyone pause. The Tower hadn't been around long, and they'd cleared it in record time — surely they'd be fine.
"We finished so quickly, shouldn't we be safe?"
"Don't you dare underestimate those hyenas. When it comes to doing dirty work, they're the ones who show truly exceptional talent."
At that, Jeon Hye-ji raised her hand.
"Hye-ji. What is it?"
"Last time, at the dungeon, there was nobody waiting. So I was wondering..."
"Last time, we handpicked everyone worth dragging along before we went in. This time, we didn't."
"I see."
"We could get jumped the moment we walk out. Keep your guard up. Got it?"
The crew nodded. Won-goo finished the cigarette dangling from his lips and headed for the exit.
"Everyone hold your positions!"
Won-goo barked the order the instant they stepped outside. But there wasn't a single ant out there to be seen.
"......?"
"There's no one here, Director."
"No, there really isn't. Did we come out too early?"
Won-goo tilted his head with practiced nonchalance. Every member of the crew stared at him in flat silence.
"Ahem. It happens, alright. I'm only human! Huh? You think I'm going to be right every single time?"
He snapped at them, but the crew's reaction was lukewarm at best. They knew exactly where the outburst was coming from — pure embarrassment.
Tsk. I jinxed it. Came out too early, that's all.
Back at the shelter, he ran into Baek Seol.
"I told you, didn't I? It wasn't a suicide mission."
"The incident was a powerful one this time. So were the costs."
"I understand. Go check it out. You should be able to get in and out now."
"Contact with Cheonchu Mountain has been restored."
"Sounds like it gets cut off completely at some point?"
"Apparently so. It won't spread further into Cheonchu Mountain, will it?"
"No way to know."
"And the Tower?"
"It'll stay where it is."
"So it's under your management now, Director?"
"Presumably."
Unlike a dungeon, a Tower belonged to whoever cleared it, granting them the right to administer the place.
"You'll be moving your residence there, then."
"Don't be ridiculous. I'm staying here. Why on earth would I move?"
"You're not moving?"
"Nope. What's out there? Nothing. Inconvenient as hell. And how exactly would we manage a Tower that size with the handful of people we have?"
"...Fair point."
"We'll charge tolls or lease it out, something like that. Baek Seol, got any thoughts?"
"Me?"
"You just lived through it. Even a factory hidden deep in the backwaters of Cheonchu Mountain carries risk. The factory needs to sit somewhere genuinely safe."
It was an abrupt pitch, but Baek Seol listened with genuine seriousness.
"There are a few other spots besides Cheonchu Mountain, aren't there?"
"That, I can't tell you."
"I wasn't asking for their locations. The Tower's bigger on the inside. Relocating the nearby factory there would be perfect, no?"
"But that's your property, Director. In case anything were to..."
"Oh, come on. Obviously we'd draw up a contract. Think it through. The factory in Cheonchu Mountain is already being run like a Black Shelter, isn't it?"
"......"
"No? When freak weather rolls in, you relocate to another point. But if the factory moves into the Tower proper, you wouldn't need to bother at all. It's a good opportunity."
"......"
"Well... if you're not interested, forget it."
"I'll run it by my superiors."
"Good. Get back to me."
After meeting Baek Seol, he made his way to the post office and sent mail to Shelter Slow — Pacific had said he was heading that way.
Back at the office, Won-goo handed out pouches of silver coins to the crew. The reaction as they took them was that the pouches felt surprisingly light. Which made sense — normally Won-goo handed out silver coin pouches several times heavier than these.
"The pouches will feel light. There's no other reason for it — I just didn't put in much, since we might be taking on another job before long."
"Another job's come in, Director?"
"No. I want to take on one that came in a while back."
"Mt. Samgak?"
"No. Mt. Yuhyang. The job of taking down Taderson."
"Was that not established as a dangerous monster, that being the case?"
"We've grown strong enough to handle it now, is what I'm thinking."
Taderson was a nuisance of a monster — it revived, learned, and came back stronger every time. Which was exactly why Won-goo had tried to steer clear of it for as long as possible. But now, with his sudden growth having unlocked a third Milestone Trait, there was no reason to hesitate anymore.
They could shoulder a Taderson hunt and still come out ahead. By the time Taderson clawed its way back to life, Won-goo's crew would be far stronger still.
"If that's how you've run the numbers, Director, then so it shall be, that being the case."
"That's why I'm saying — don't drag it out. Go have your fun, in moderation."
"The post office really is fast and reliable. You got here already?"
"Course I got here fast. Someone called for me, didn't they?"
Pacific looked no different than before. A wheelchair draped with IV stands hanging off it in strings — though there seemed to be more stands this time, and the dark circles under his eyes looked deeper.
"You holding up health-wise? You look worse than last time."
"Been overworking lately, that's all. So — what made you change your mind?"
"Slow down. Come inside and let's talk."
"I'm in a hurry. There's more of us gathered at Slow than you'd think."
"Fine, fine. Settle down. Your dialect's really coming out, you know."
"Is it?"
"It is. So how many did you gather? Did you manage to form a team out of the Ganjeol Point lot?"
"No. Scraped together people from farther out than that."
"Really? Must have some skill, then. Anyone who knows even a little about Taderson knows you can't just rush at it carelessly."
"They're, uh, multinational."
"Multinational? From where?"
"China, Yanbian, Mongolia — all mixed in."
"What is this, an East Asian summit? How'd it get so multinational?"
"Beats me. It just shook out that way."
"Tell me straight. Have actual bases from those countries sprouted up nearby? Or is it just a handful of individuals drifting in?"
The reason Won-goo asked was that the answer would let him estimate when the apocalypse would properly begin. If shelters built on foreign soil were springing up nearby, it meant the opening of the apocalypse was imminent — and from that point on, a different kind of preparation would be needed. But if it was merely a trickle of foreign survivors drifting in, there was still time.
"By bases, you mean shelters?"
"Right. Shelters. Have shelters being used by foreigners popped up?"
"Nothing like that. Lately I've just been spotting a few foreign faces around the area. You know how it is — one freak weather event rolls through and the whole landscape gets shuffled around."
"Right. Getting caught in that, some of them could drift our way."
"Anyway, there's a lot of them."
"Hmm."
"That bothering you too?"
"Speaking the same language does make the work go smoother, after all."
"Sure, and the ones who'd stab you in the back will do it in whatever language they please. The ones who wouldn't, won't."
"Can't argue with that... but are they any good, at least?"
"None of them have eaten all that many coins."
"And you're going after Taderson with them? Isn't that reckless?"
"You saw them clear out the small fry around the target yourself. They fight well. Few coins eaten, sure, but they've got no fear, them. The Mongolians fight well."
"Really? So you're saying they're not scared of much?"
"Yep."
"Still, common language makes things easier..."
"Director Gong."
"What?"
"You're not planning to call me all the way out here and then back out of the deal, are you? I genuinely got worked up and sprinted over. You know that, right? This body of mine broke a sweat moving."
"I know. Who's backing out? I just think the plan needs adjusting."
"Can't we just solve it by making sure we have enough bodies?"
"I said it before — the Siamese frog and Taderson are two different beasts. It's not some dumb Large Species. And on top of that, this whole 'we speak the same language' thing — you can't just bolt on an interpreter and call it a day. Pacific, listen carefully."
"......?"
"If the words people speak are different, then the way those heads work is different too. Their whole way of thinking is on a different track. And let me ask you one thing."
"What's that?"
"Would you willingly stake your life on total strangers from god-knows-where?"
"That's what contracts are for, aren't they?"
"I still don't like the feel of it."
"The great Director Gong doesn't trust a contract? What's the world coming to?"
Pacific's eyes went wide. He looked ready to start snorting steam on the spot.
"Relax. I'm not saying we won't do it. It just won't wrap up as clean as the Siamese frog job. There'll be quite a lot of blood. That still fine with you?"
"If you work in this world and you don't see blood, that's when you should worry, no?"
"I'm not running point on this one. Let's handle it the Fishers' way."
"Shove the foreigners in and let them sort it out themselves?"
"Isn't that enough? Ganjeol Point just needs Taderson dead, and you just need Taderson dead. That's all."
"Can't argue with that."