Chapter 107: Report (2)
Chapter 107: Report (2)
Thud.
The sound of footsteps.
Wheeze. Wheeze.
The heavy breathing of people deep in slumber.
Squelch. Squelch.
The movement of bizarre entities wandering about.
We walked through a space where only those sounds existed.
They say half a pyeong is enough for a person to lie down. Since the size of a single bed is roughly that, it’s probably an accurate estimate.
But what happens when there are hundreds of thousands of them?
Two hundred thousand people would require a hundred thousand pyeong.
Of course, that’s a simple calculation. It doesn’t account for the space needed for people to move around, the actual dimensions of the beds, or the corridors.
Taking all that into consideration, this underground ward was easily half the size of Yeouido.
In that vast expanse, patients in a vegetative state were lined up in endless, orderly rows. Even a battlefield strewn with corpses wouldn't look this bleak.
No matter where I turned, all I saw were faces contorted in agony.
Rattle. Rattle.
A bed shook. And of all things, it was the one right next to us.
Even if they hadn't died and were trapped in a dream without the disease progressing, the pain didn't just vanish.
It was a seizure, natural yet horrific.
The man kicked off his blanket and grabbed his right arm—which had already turned to ash and fallen away—with his left hand.
“Graaaaaagh!”
He let out a monstrous shriek.
Even without consciousness, a scream erupted instinctively. He thrashed in a frenzy, struggling against the pain blooming from a right arm that no longer existed.
However, we ignored him and kept moving forward.
This wasn't the first time we’d seen such a sight since entering the ward. In a few moments, nurses would arrive to stabilize him.
Squelch. Squelch.
Right on cue, the squelching sound echoed from behind us, and the ear-piercing scream subsided.
“Are they administering an anesthetic?”
“…A cocktail of sedatives, nerve blockers, and brain activity depressants. It’s my special blend.”
Does it really take that much to calm them down?
I found myself thinking it was a mercy they were in a vegetative state. A normal mind would have surely shattered under such agony.
“The stench of rot is getting worse. Poyo…”
Perhaps affected by the ward's gloomy atmosphere, Un-ho, who had been sitting quietly on my shoulder, finally spoke up.
“We’re heading toward the Intensive Care Unit. It can’t be helped, so use a scent-blocking spell or something.”
“I called it a stench of rot, but… it’s more like my instincts are sensing Otherworldly Power… there’s no way to block it.”
Hmm. That’s unfortunate.
While teasing Un-ho is a hobby of mine, I have no intention of letting him suffer for no reason.
“Then do you want to go back and rest? If you go up now and ask for directions to your room…”
“No.”
Un-ho spoke with a sharp voice, a rarity for him. It was a keen, wild sound that wasn't swallowed by fat or grease.
“This… might be related to our enemy.”
Skritch.
The sound of something hard scraping.
I turned my head at the sound and saw a side of Un-ho I’d never seen before. His fur stood on end like needles, his fangs were bared, and his eyes were narrowed into slits.
If a ferret were a carnivore, it would probably look like that. Actually, I wasn't even sure if he was a ferret anymore. Do ferrets whip their hairless, red tails around like lashes?
“I heard you mention it earlier, but what exactly is this ‘stench of rot,’ Un-ho?”
“Krrk… Ah, sorry. I got a bit excited… Just a moment, please.”
Perhaps calmed by the conversation, Un-ho’s sharp form gradually returned to normal. Not quite his usual white dust-ball self, but more like a hedgehog.
“Weren't you two talking about that earlier?”
“That was a more technical discussion. From what I’d heard, I thought it was just a slight variation of Otherworldly Power, but hearing the descriptions now, it feels like something else entirely.”
Something else entirely…
“It’s hard to explain… poyo. What I told you earlier was the theoretical meaning.”
Un-ho circled my neck, lost in thought, before finally speaking.
“Um. Have you ever directly absorbed Otherworldly Power into your body, poyo?”
“I haven’t had many experiences taking it in directly.”
“I used to absorb it whenever I was bored,” I added.
To build up power internally. Thanks to that, I’d accumulated a massive amount, but thinking back, it was probably similar to the 'Demonic Arts' mentioned in martial arts novels.
“Actually, I don’t know about the past, but everyone is probably absorbing it now. This is also confidential, but…”
Sigh.
Un-ho let out a sigh heavy with the sorrows of life.
“Since everyone already knows that the source of a Hero’s strength is Otherworldly Power, there’s no point in calling it confidential. Poyooo…”
“Ah. I heard that from the Librarian. That Otherworldly Power has already spread across the entire world.”
Right. That’s why modern Heroes are generally of higher quality than those of the past.
“Yes. So, strictly speaking, everyone has experience absorbing it.”
…Wait. Something’s wrong.
“You’re saying just breathing in trace amounts from the air counts as absorption? When I absorbed it, my whole body was in pain, I had hallucinations, and it was a total mess.”
And it wasn't just me; even the Heavenly Sword and the Heavenly Demon Sword God complained about the side effects.
“Yes. That’s the difference. Um… how should I put it…”
Un-ho started squirming on top of my head, seemingly choosing his words carefully.
Normally, I would have grabbed him and tossed him away, but since it seemed like he was about to reveal important information, I waited patiently.
We continued walking toward the center for a few minutes with Un-ho perched on my head.
“Um… I won’t get in trouble for this, right… poyo?”
Finally, Un-ho spoke.
“Since the situation is what it is, The Queen will understand. Poyo.”
He was talking to himself, as if trying to convince himself he wasn't doing anything wrong.
“Are you done thinking?”
“Yes! Even if I get caught, it’ll be fine! Lin won’t say anything either!”
Seeing how confident he is, he’s definitely going to get scolded later.
Having regained his confidence, Un-ho climbed down my hair to my shoulder and finally spoke.
“Actually, there’s a huge difference between the Otherworldly Power floating in the air and the power you absorbed, Ha-ram.”
Wasn't the point of this story to tell me what that difference is? He’s dragging this out too much.
“Just get to the point.”
“It’s short, so just listen. Poyo.”
Cheeky for a ferret. I’ll have to discipline him later.
“Mister. Be quiet for a second. This is about his partner; can’t you wait a bit?”
Even Oxymoron was taking his side.
“Fine, it’s all my fault. So let’s just get on with the story.”
I’ll release this stress later by squeezing Un-ho.
“Then I’ll continue. The difference between the two Type S of Otherworldly Power is whether it has been corrupted by someone’s will or not. That’s the difference.”
What does that even mean?
“That’s not enough of an explanation, right? Poyo. So I thought of the closest comparison. Otherworld Erosion. Ha-ram, surely you understand that?”
Otherworld Erosion.
That one term made many things clear. It explained why Un-ho used the word 'will' in relation to Otherworldly Power.
When I turned to look at Oxymoron, she also had an expression of realization.
Now, shall I confirm if my theory is correct?
“Are you saying this? Like Otherworld Erosion, Otherworldly Power has a property that allows it to be corrupted by someone’s will, and the power I absorbed was imbued with someone’s intent.”
“Exactly! Poyo!”
Un-ho started clapping his paws, seemingly delighted that I understood.
“And the power floating around the world is like that because it has no will?”
“That’s also correct! Poyo!”
“Then you’re saying ‘someone’ trying to invade our world imbued their will into the Otherworldly Power?”
“Yes!”
Someone’s will. As I thought, it’s those bastards. The Entities at The End of the Story.
Un-ho was currently rejoicing, thinking he’d been careful with his words, but Un-ho was still Un-ho.
This made it certain. Un-ho was definitely connected to the Existence of The End.
Then what is Un-ho? And The Queen of the Magic Kingdom? Are they the Entities at The End?
My thoughts raced. How should I ask to keep the fact that I know about The End a secret?
It was clear Un-ho wasn't an enemy. But it was also clear he was hiding something. What should I do?
As I continued to ponder…
“Un-ho? I have a question.”
“What is it? Poyo.”
“I understand that normal Otherworldly Power and corrupted power are different.”
“Yes! You’re a quick learner!”
“Then why did you have such an extreme reaction to this plague, saying it smells of rot?”
Come to think of it, I hadn't received a clear explanation for that yet.
“Ah, sorry… poyo… I forgot. That’s what I was trying to explain…”
Un-ho quickly became dejected.
“It’s okay. Poyo! Everyone makes mistakes! I’ll explain it now.”
So noisy… Stop shouting right in my ear.
“Yes. Please do.”
Of course, the noise was only a problem for me; Oxymoron ignored my irritation and urged him to continue.
“Actually, corrupted Otherworldly Power doesn't usually have a huge impact. At most, the air in a Contaminated Zone just feels a bit stagnant. Poyo.”
“I guess bruising and hallucinations are no big deal these days.”
“Well, that’s obviously an exception if you inhale it as recklessly as you did. Poyo.”
Can I squeeze him now?
“But the Otherworldly Power emanating from the people here is of a different quality. How should I put it… I thought of a way earlier… what was it…?”
How should I know?
Un-ho started squeezing his own body, as if trying to force the memory out, even though I hadn't done anything to him.
After about ten seconds…
“Ah, right! They’ve carved the intent to torment people into the power.”
“…What do you mean?”
“This plague was intentionally created to make people suffer. They twisted the Otherworldly Power so that it’s hard to cure and spreads rapidly.”
Un-ho then began to dry heave, as if nauseated.
“And the one who twisted the plague must have known exactly what they were creating… I can feel a sense of… enjoyment… coming through the plague. It’s truly… disgusting.”
With a serious expression, Un-ho manifested his emotions through his entire body, unable to bear the revulsion. His fur bristled, and he gnashed his teeth. He had transformed again.
Earlier, I’d thought Un-ho wasn't an enemy.
But I was wrong. Even if he was hiding something, Un-ho was my partner.
Someone who showed such blatant loathing for The Enemy couldn't possibly be anything other than an ally.
“…You said it’s a plague someone created intentionally? Then the reason we can’t find a clue for a cure is…”
“It’s probably because it keeps changing its own properties so it won't be discovered,” Un-ho said, his voice laced with a beastly growl and the sound of grinding teeth.
Anger radiated from him.
The anger of one whose life had been toyed with by the plague, who had experienced despair, and who bore an indelible stigma. The anger of one whose life was still being stolen.
“…Un-ho.”
“Yes?”
“Can I put this in the report?”
This might have been the first time I’d asked. Instead of immediately reporting the information Un-ho accidentally let slip to the Management Bureau, I was asking for his permission.
“Just don’t say it came from me.”
“I won’t.”
Thanks to Un-ho, the report was going to be much richer with hatred for the Otherworldly beings.
“Mister.”
“What.”
“Let’s hurry. Now that we know for sure someone created this, we need to change our approach.”
“Right.”
Even Oxymoron, who had seemed unmotivated, swung her arms and marched forward.
We passed through the long jungle of people.
We crossed the line marked 'Intensive Care Unit.'
And reached the large central pillar engraved with the words 'Special Classified Area.'
In front of the yellow door there.
Another of Yellow King's seals.
I wondered for a moment if I’d have to recite another verse, but fortunately, the large eye on the door glanced at me and then immediately receded inward.
The door opened.
The gates of hell.
Where ashen Gray Dust fluttered.
The door to the Terminal Plague Special Zone.