Chapter 100: Even the One Who Should Die Won't Die (1)
Chapter 100: Even the One Who Should Die Won't Die (1)
"What the... Even a damn plane gets attacked? Why are monsters popping out of the sky?"
What did I do to deserve this? Why do I have to crawl along the surface of a plane and engage in aerial combat with a monster?
If it hadn't been for Un-ho’s magical support, I’d probably be building snowmen in the middle of the vast Siberian wilderness by now. I really should've put spikes on my boots.
"It's because you're on board, Ha-ram-nim. Poyo."
What did I ever do to make even this damn mascot act like this? Is it my fault now if I get jumped by a monster just walking down the street?
"Are you sure it wasn't you who called it?"
Suspicious. I bet this damn mascot betrayed me and planned to kill me. Otherwise, there’s no way something would go wrong in the sky, which is famous for being peaceful.
"Me? If I had that kind of talent, I would have gathered monsters and offered them to you a long time ago, Ha-ram-nim."
That settles it. Un-ho is the traitor.
"And what would I do with a pile of monsters?"
"Wasn't it all money?"
I see. So I was supposed to gather them all up and then beat them to death. Unfortunately, the only person I know who could pull that off is Linshua.
Asking Linshua to do that would be too risky, so I’ll just pretend that option doesn't exist.
"Setting that aside, what do you mean it's because I'm on board?"
I have absolutely no idea what he's talking about.
If this happened every time I took a plane, I would have grown to loathe the very concept of transportation.
Come to think of it, I have crashed a few planes into monsters before, but since I crashed those on purpose, they shouldn't count toward the 'every time I ride' category.
"Lately, everywhere you go is full of trouble, isn't it? So of course the plane had problems too. The Heart-Pounding Magical Girl's Journey! I wonder how much will blow up this time!"
Un-ho’s insane nonsense is reaching the level of fine art at this point.
His words were so absurd that I plucked the creature off my shoulder, threw him to the ground, and spoke.
"Sure, sure. This is a 'Magical★Partner Bonding Session' with the partner Magical Girl you chose. How does it feel?"
Lately, Un-ho’s body had been turning into a strange fluid-like state; he became a blob of dirty white clay and splattered onto the ground.
"Uwaaa, please stop! My proud fur is becoming one with the dust... Wait... for some reason, it doesn't hur—"
He must have lost his mind, because he started spouting weird noises.
Touching the sticky ball of white fur with my hands felt revolting for some reason, so I started grinding him down with my foot instead.
"Aaaah, please stop. At this rate, I'm going to get stuck like gum on asphalt..."
What exactly is this creature?
I’m sure he had bones not too long ago, but now he was stuck to the floor like a slime, beginning to turn into a grayish something that absorbed filth.
Did he realize his essence was filth and decide to change his race? If it was that kind of self-reflection, I should probably support him, but it seemed pointless to worry any further about the nonsensical lifeform known as Un-ho. I disposed of the trash by roughly wrapping him in plastic and tossing him into my backpack, then went to find Oxymoron, who had finished her processing faster than I had.
"She looked strangely upset earlier, so I should go soothe her."
"That's probably because you, Ha-ram-nim— glub-glub-gurgle."
A mysterious groan echoed from the backpack.
Is he spitting bubbles now?
He really is becoming something entirely different from a ferret.
I tried to listen to Un-ho as he struggled to say something even while I walked, but since most of it was just the sound of bubbles and nonsense, I cut off the last shred of interest I had left and headed toward the woman who stood out so clearly.
In this small airport on the outskirts of the Soviet Union—an airport built in a small town with a tiny population and almost no users—she stood out far too much.
Black techwear and restraint belts, worn with zero regard for the gaze of others.
She had at least ditched the Gas Mask she usually wore in favor of a leather mask, but that only made her stand out more.
Gray clothes, long hair, and a mask that covered everything except her eyes.
A woman in restraint-style military gear. People with weird tastes would probably love her.
She was scowling as she looked through the glass, clearly displeased with something, but even that expression just made her eyes look sharper, which was enough to highlight her charm.
Well, to me, having known her for twenty years, she just looked annoyed.
She’s still a child. To have her emotions show so honestly.
Even so, isn't she the partner I have to work with on this mission? If she's in a bad mood, I have to fix it.
"Sorry I'm late."
Swish. Her head turned so fast I could have sworn I heard the sound in my mind.
Her long hair fluttered in the air, and I felt her eyes lock onto me through the strands, but only for a moment.
She simply turned her head back toward the window, her expression softening slightly.
"You're late."
A strangely cold response.
Seeing her act like that made me feel like it really was my fault.
I don't know why, but it seems it's my fault.
"The questioning was damn long. They even asked where the monster's corpse fell. How should I know? They should ask the pilot."
I’m at a loss for words at the sheer incompetence of the Soviet Civil Servants trying to scavenge even a corpse. It took even longer because the usual "If you have a problem, contact the Bureau" didn't work on them.
What's so great about 'Party property' anyway? They're the ones who throw a fit whenever they need the Bureau’s help.
"Well... that couldn't be helped, I suppose."
Her expression relaxed slightly.
Was it really just because I was late?
How could you leave me alone? Isn't that a bit much for a comrade? Was that the complaint?
"Right? Because of that, I don't think we can leave today. There's no set arrival date anyway, so let's just rest today and take it slow."
The original plan was to move out as soon as we got off the plane and rest at the Bureau branch, but looking out the window, it was so pitch black without a single light that traveling today seemed a bit difficult.
It's not like we can't travel at night, so we could push through if we had to, but it wasn't that urgent.
"Is there a place to stay in a location like this?"
Oxymoron looked out the window again with a slightly bewildered look in her eyes.
I followed her gaze and looked outside.
A city submerged in darkness without a single light.
It wasn't a large city to begin with, but after the Czechoslovakia Incident, the surrounding areas were gradually designated as restricted zones, and the city fell into decay.
An airport existed, but it was merely an expression of pride—a way for the Soviet Union to say they hadn't abandoned this place—in addition to its military uses.
Or perhaps they kept it to experiment with the plague that spread through Czechoslovakia. If they really hadn't abandoned this city, they would have at least provided a proper electricity supply.
There was no reason a nation that abandoned its own Awakened citizens couldn't abandon a city.
I finished my internal critique of the country I had a particularly deep grudge against and pulled on Oxymoron’s arm.
"Mister? Why all of a sudden..."
"Staring at a dark nightscape without any light will only make you feel worse."
If it made even me feel bad, I could only imagine how it affected Oxymoron, who had even worse trauma than I did.
"Still, you didn't have to pull me like this..."
Since I was late, I might as well move fast now.
"In a neighborhood like this, there are always people living vibrantly."
"Pardon?"
"I said, since you seem to be in a bad mood because of me, let's go rest!"
* * *
"Why is it that every place I know has gone bust!"
The lodging I visited while setting up a base in Czechoslovakia was gone, the lodging I visited for an assassination was gone, and the lodging I visited while spying on the Soviets was gone.
Haha, they're all gone.
"It's destiny. Poyo."
"Die."
I grabbed the Anomalous Entity—who had poked his head out of the backpack, apparently recovered from being stuffed inside—wrung him out like a rag, shoved him back into the bottom of the bag, and looked up.
"A place to stay... I have to find a place to stay..."
"They all seem to be out of business. Wouldn't it be better to just go to the Bureau branch now, Mister?"
"I am going to find a place to stay here today no matter what. We are definitely resting before we go."
Now that it had come to this, I would stay here out of sheer spite.
I began to walk, squeezing my memories for every drop of information.
The lodging reviews from the squad members who had each found their own places to stay for confidentiality.
The stories from a comrade whose hometown was nearby.
The smell of burning candles and food in the dead of night.
"Is that the smell of fried meat...?"
I felt Oxymoron watching me pitifully as I scurried around following the scent, but I ignored her and continued to trace my memories.
‘There was a place with great Chicken Kiev.’
‘The borscht on my end was a total bust. I couldn't tell if they put in tomatoes or tomato ketchup.’
‘Isn't that because you were drinking, Captain?’
‘Who said I used it as a snack while eating? I just ate it and it tasted bad.’
‘Then you should have stayed with us.’
Thinking about it now makes me angry again.
"...Don't you think Branch Manager Park Hyun-seok would have paid for you if you worked this hard normally, Mister?"
"I don't know. Right now is more important."
The smell of butter. The aroma of grilled meat.
Riding that scent, overlapping memories of the past guided me to a single location.
A dust-covered outdoor terrace that I imagined was once popular.
A faint light from a small fire leaked through the tightly closed glass.
Once I confirmed that someone was cooking inside, I happily made my way toward the lodging.
The sign hanging at the entrance was so weathered that the letters had vanished, making it impossible to tell if it was open, but when I pulled the door, it opened without resistance, as if it hadn't been locked.
"...Are you sure they're not closed?"
"If the door isn't locked, it means they're open."
I walked in confidently like a customer, but Oxymoron followed tentatively, as if she were committing a break-in.
Did they keep the restaurant and the lodging separate? The place I entered through the glass door only had a few tables, so I opened the next door without a second glance.
Tinkle.
A bell rang in response.
At the same time, the sweet smell of meat that the door had been blocking clung to my nose.
A scent where butter and protein were exquisitely mixed. That smell, combined with the musty, old-wood scent characteristic of aged candles, created a strange atmosphere.
"Who is it? Timoshenko? I have nothing to give you today, so don't come..."
He must have heard the bell.
An Old Man appeared from behind the counter, his voice raspy as if his throat were full of dust.
Is the kitchen right behind the counter?
"What? Customers? Or..."
He brought a candle over the counter as if to check the identity of the visitors. As the candlelight illuminated the counter, I saw bottles and glasses rolling around here and there.
A restaurant, lodging, and pub all in one. He really does everything.
"Judging by the strange clothes, are you from the Bureau? I don't recognize your faces. Did you come for a shift change?"
The Bureau. That’s an unexpected word. Do the branch kids come here often?
"We are from the Bureau, but we weren't assigned here. We're just stopping by the branch for some business and were hoping to rent a room."
"A young fellow talking like... No. Are you one of those whose inside is different from their outside?"
He’s quicker on the uptake than I thought. Has he worked with Heroes before?
"I've lived about three or four times longer than I look. More importantly, do you have a room?"
At my question, the Old Man glanced at us, grabbed a random key from the shelf behind him, and tossed it to me.
"If you wanted to rest, you should have gone to the Bureau. What's all this fuss in the middle of the night? There's a room."
I easily snatched The Key out of the air and checked the room number. 101.
"I knew it. Don't you think they've stopped being a lodging, Mister? The atmosphere is a bit..."
A voice and actions that seemed slightly angry.
Oxymoron, seemingly flustered by the Old Man's attitude, stepped back slightly and whispered in my ear.
It might look that way to her, but I thought differently.
"Do Bureau people come here often?"
I reached out a hand to calm Oxymoron and made eye contact with the grumbling Old Man.
"Come here to eat? They're just a bunch of guys with nothing better to do. They keep pestering an Old Man who wants to retire, so I still haven't been able to close the shop."
Just as I thought. He was exactly that kind of old-timer. The kind who can never be gentle.
"Then can we order food now? Ah, judging by the smell, it seems you're making dinner. If you're busy..."
Thud.
Two plates were slammed onto the counter. Unlike the dirty glasses, the plates and cutlery were spotless.
"A kid who's barely forty or fifty is worrying about who? I'll make it right now, so wait there. I'll show you my cooking."
Thud.
Leaving the candle on the counter, the Old Man disappeared into the kitchen.
Seeing the flames grow stronger as he lit more fires, it seemed he really did have the energy to cook.
"See? You sit down too, Oxymoron."
"...Is it really okay? He just threw the plates and left."
Ah, is she not used to this? I guess so, since she’s always been stuck in labs and operating rooms instead of having a social life.
"Have you ever heard of the 'grumpy old lady' type of restaurant?"
"Is it something like Baba Yaga?"
That’s an old woman who eats children.
"It's about those old folks who act prickly on the outside but are actually welcoming on the inside. He's probably enjoying himself, so don't worry about it."
It’s surprising that the Bureau kids come here, though. The distance must be quite far, so if they come all the way here to eat, it must be a famous spot.
As I leaned my chin on the counter with that thought, what came back to me was...
"You're just like him, Mister."
A cryptic answer and a laugh from Oxymoron. As if all her previous anxiety and bad mood had vanished, she took off her mask and smiled with her slightly scarred lips.
What is this girl talking about all of a sudden?
The thought crossed my mind, but I didn't feel like breaking the atmosphere, so I quietly held my tongue.
A quiet, dark night.
In the darkness filled with the scent of butter, we waited for our meal.