In the House (2)

I walked down the ship's corridor. The lobby was a gruesome sight. Debris was scattered everywhere, and dark, sticky blood clung to the walls and floor, but strangely, there were no corpses.

"A vending machine?"

I suddenly spotted a vending machine. Under its flickering light, energy bars, sodas, and bottled water were sparsely stocked inside.

In a labyrinth like this, you have to grab food whenever you see it.

Of course, I didn't have any money, but I had a skill.

Thud, clack. Energy bars and bottles of water rattled down into the dispenser. I gathered my coat like a makeshift sack and stuffed them inside.

I sat down on a nearby rusted chair and tore open an energy bar.

"...This is actually good."

This is the beauty of a highly advanced labyrinth setting.

I shoved two or three more into my mouth in quick succession and was about to stand up when—

Grrrr...

A dismal, low groan echoed from somewhere.

I ducked. It must have heard the vending machine. I had been careless.

Using the chair as cover, I hid. I quietly watched the direction the sound was coming from.

Grrrr...

Something was shuffling toward me, groaning. It looked hideous. Lumps of flesh were stuck to its body haphazardly, like poorly molded clay, but its basic frame was humanoid. If I had to find the closest comparison—a zombie.

A space zombie.

This should be fun.

I channeled mana into my pistol. The barrel glowed with a faint bluish-white light.

Firing pure magic bullets directly was still difficult. Even though I was inside a ship, this was clearly outer space—meaning, not Earth.

The air density, gravity, and mana particles were all slightly different. For a mage, those subtle discrepancies were fatal. It would take quite some time before I could fully control mana outside my body.

Before pulling the trigger, I applied a silent Flame of Cognition. I could still manage a basic spell of this level. Mana enveloped the air around the muzzle.

I fired.

Pfft!

Shot in the head, the creature collapsed instantly.

Leaning on my cane, I resumed walking. At the far end of the lobby was a passageway leading to the residential area. An arched titanium gate blocked the path, firmly locked.

I attempted to hack it.

"What?"

My nervous system is supposed to be invincible.

My level was too low. Then where could I raise it...? I had a hunch.

A desktop.

It seemed desktops were the key interactive objects in this labyrinth.

"..."

A cold breath brushed against the back of my neck.

The zombie had gotten back up.

I spun around and fired.

Pfft! Pfft! Pfft! Pfft! Pfft!

I unleashed a rapid volley. The zombie was pushed back by the impacts, but it didn't fall.

"...It doesn't seem to die."

The zombie glared at me, dripping some unrecognizable mixture of blood and flesh. I could stagger it, but I couldn't kill it.

A mere gun wasn't going to cut it.

My mana wasn't fully stable yet, but there was a way to use it even in this hard-to-control state. I just had to unleash it like a bomb at point-blank range. Abandoning control and relying purely on raw destructive power.

I stopped firing. Instantly recovering, the zombie lunged at me.

"Grrrrr!"

The moment its hideous face zoomed into point-blank range, I discharged my mana. The wild, uncontrolled currents of magic tore through the creature like blades.

Splat!

The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠zombie's head was completely shredded. Its body was dismantled into four pieces, which rained down onto the floor.

"That did it... Wait, what?"

However, the upper torso, which now had only a left arm, began to squirm. Squish, squelch. Lumps of flesh swelled from the severed surface, molding themselves into two leg-like appendages.

The other severed pieces were doing the exact same thing.

A single zombie had just multiplied into four bizarre, limbed creatures.

"...This is why you shouldn't act rashly."

Great job, Ha-woon.

Fortunately, the zombies had no eyes or ears. Though their bodies regenerated, the sensory organs on the head I had crushed seemed to be permanently damaged.

I had found a countermeasure.

Rule number one: smash the head anyway.

I wandered the lobby to avoid the zombies before returning to the gate—the crew-only area.

"Supervisor. I brought you something good."

Knock, knock. I tapped on the door of the supervisor's office.

"Hello?"

There was no answer. Was she asleep?

"Julione. Open up. I brought something good. It's today's wage."

Knock, knock. I knocked again, holding up my coat stuffed with energy bars.

"You see this?"

In case she couldn't see, I pulled one out and waved the wrapper.

"Pork chop flavor. Energy bars."

Crackle.

Julione's voice came through the speaker.

—...That is not what you are supposed to be doing.

"And who decided what I'm supposed to be doing?"

—I did.

"No."

I shook my head.

"We're in a mutually cooperative relationship anyway. I decide my own tasks. So you should do your job too."

—...My job?

"Yes. Open the door."

Julione remained silent.

She was stubborn, but surely she wasn't completely unreasonable. I had to hope she wasn't.

"Listen closely,"

I lowered my tone, speaking as calmly as possible.

"Don't make an enemy out of me."

I didn't have the luxury to play power games with a supervisor on a spaceship crawling with zombies.

"It'll be much more comfortable for both of us."

Only when she opened up to me would things go smoothly. Like it or not, this labyrinth felt like it would take at least a week to clear.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"I told you, I brought food. Bad people don't bring food."

I shook my coat filled with energy bars. The wrappers rustled.

—...Fine.

Hiss!

The door slid open. I quickly shoved my foot inside.

Just in case she changed her mind.

"...This is a mess."

I let out a dry laugh as I surveyed the interior of the supervisor's office. It looked to be around twelve hundred square feet, but it was so packed with various machinery and equipment that there was barely any room to step.

Maybe she was too embarrassed to let me in.

"It's not as bad as it looks,"

Julione said bluntly. Her voice was thick with exhaustion.

"I can see that. At the very least, it's the safest place around."

I set down the food I had gathered from the vending machine, clearing a spot by pushing aside some electronic components on the floor.

"They're good. Eat up."

Julione picked up an energy bar. Her thin fingers tore open the wrapper.

As expected, she hadn't been eating properly.

"How long have you been here?"

"...Three years."

"And you haven't gone outside once during that time?"

Julione fell silent. Her eyes wavered.

I added one more thing.

"And you're not actually the supervisor, are you?"

Her colleagues were already dead. Probably a very long time ago.

If she had been the actual supervisor—someone of that rank—she probably wouldn't have survived.

"..."

She glared at me, her gaze turning sharp.

"I'm not trying to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠blame you. Like I said, we share the same goal."

"...Fine. I'm a maintenance worker."

Julione confessed more readily than I expected. Her voice sounded incredibly weary.

"I spent a year eating, sleeping, and working in the ship's lower decks. But when I finally came up, everything was like this."

"I see... But why is the staff area so clean?"

There were no zombies, and not even a single corpse was in sight. It was a stark contrast to the completely trashed lobby.

"Most fled, and a few committed suicide. I disposed of the bodies of those who killed themselves. They're probably drifting in space by now."

I listened to her while carefully scanning the supervisor's office.

"Ah, there it is."

I had found a desktop. I had spent so much time searching for one while being chased by zombies in the lobby, but there hadn't been any out there.

That meant the only remaining place was this supervisor's office.

This was the real reason I had tried to get in, even if it meant threatening her.

"Can I use this?"

"...Be careful. It'll put a strain on your brain."

"I'll be fine."

I pulled a blue cable from the desktop and plugged it into my wrist.

A flood of knowledge settled into my mind. I also learned detailed information about this 'supervisor's office.'

"So this place is your only means of escape?"

This office itself was a micro-spacecraft. If the engine could be repaired, it could detach from the main hull and escape to safety.

"...Yes. It's my only hope. I am never leaving this place."

I could see why she had been so wary of me. Even now, as I spoke about the spacecraft, she bristled like a hedgehog raising its quills.

"Don't worry. You and I have different goals."

I extended my hand to her.

"Let's cooperate. I'll help you escape."

"How can I trust you?"

"Don't trust me. After all, I'm the one who will be running around outside. Instead, you help me too. Though it looks like a few others have already passed through here."

I could tell from her attitude.

It must be a scenario setting where 'rescue teams had arrived before.'

"I'll be a bit different from them."

I wondered if helping Labyrinthins had become a hobby of mine.

Julione stared at me for a long moment before slowly shaking my hand.

I left the supervisor's office. First, I walked while masking my presence with a spell.

It brought back memories. It was the same spell I had used to deal with goblins in the very early stages of Labyrinth Exploration 101.

"..."

Slipping past the four blind and deaf zombies, I reached the gate where the hack had previously failed. I pulled the cable from my wrist and connected it.

The gate slid open.

"Entering the residential area."

—Acknowledged.

We communicated via the terminal. Since I didn't know much about this ship yet, I needed her information.

"...So this is the residential area."

My eyebrows twitched at the sight inside. Dim artificial lights flickered, and cabins were lined up around a central park.

"Oh. Found a vending machine."

I immediately spotted another vending machine. This time, there were several. It seemed to be an entire vending machine section—a literal goldmine.

Energy bars, sodas, bottled water, toys, and even mini cameras, wireless communication chips, modules, batteries, a toy truck...

"This is practically an electronics store."

I swept everything clean. I stuffed half of it into my bag, and among the electronics, I tore open the packaging of the toy truck.

—What are you doing?

"Just a second. I think this might come in handy."

I mounted a mini camera onto the toy truck. I loaded the wireless communication chip, module, and battery into its cargo bed, then took control with the joystick.

"I'm sending a car over to you right now."

—...A car?

"Yes."

The truck rolled forward quietly. Since it was designed as a truck, it was perfect for carrying cargo.

Rattle, rattle.

Bouncing up and down, it reached the crew gate.

"Open the door, please."

Hiss— I steered the truck through the opening door.

"It's there."

I parked it right in front of the supervisor's office. As soon as Julione opened the door, she quickly picked up the truck.

"Did you get it?"

—I got it. Amusing.

A hint of amusement colored Julione's voice. It seemed some of her long-held tension had finally melted away.

"You can modify that, right?"

—Of course.

"If we share the same field of vision, it'll be ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠much easier to coordinate and exchange information."

—Acknowledged.

"Great. I'll wait."

I waited, munching on an energy bar.

Before long, the truck returned. Rattle, rattle. Mounted on the truck, alongside the camera, was something else. It was an electric shock launcher—or to put it more accurately, a miniature railgun.

"Oh~ You're going to provide fire support?"

—I loaded some medicine as well, just in case.

Julione spoke with a touch of pride. I looked down at the truck. Transparent medicine vials were neatly arranged in the back.

"Excellent."

—Let's go.

Rattle, rattle. The truck set off. Its rear view was actually quite cute.

The truck tried to take the lead gallantly, but then paused and looked back at me.

—What are you doing?

"I thought you were leading the way."

—Let's walk together.

"Sure, let's do that."

The truck and I walked side by side. Its tiny wheels rolled in sync with my strides.

"Oh."

It was an incredibly appealing skill, with a name that felt both reliable and familiar. As anyone who has served knows, a vast majority of military personnel trust duct tape with a devotion bordering on religious faith.

And I was certainly one of them.