Chapter 38
Chapter 38
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: 38. Mud Dolls
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-Boom!
I barely dodge the mud doll's fist slamming into the floor and roll backward.
"No sign of this ending anytime soon!"
Yoo Daon shouts as she retreats toward me.
"I have to agree!"
I swap out my magazine and can't help but concur.
Even if Jang Chaeyeon were here, it might be different, but without anyone who could handle real firepower, there was no way to fend off this brute force pile of dirt.
In fact, we'd fired several shots, and it only flinched without going down even once.
"When's Arin coming?!"
"I'm waiting just as desperately!"
Among us, the most useless in the current situation, Song Arin, had taken on the scout role to find an escape route.
But why was she taking so damn long?
Another fist comes flying at us.
I roll across the floor just in time to dodge it, and Yoo Daon pulls back, narrowly avoiding it as well.
"Over here!"
The voice we'd been waiting for finally rings out.
Song Arin is waving her arms frantically from the direction of what looks like the village church.
"Over there. Let's go!"
"Yeah!"
I shove through the dolls with Yoo Daon, attempting our escape.
The good news is that our legs are faster than theirs.
-Thud!
Yoo Daon crosses her arms to block the mud doll's fist.
Something crunches in her arms, but without so much as a flinch, she keeps moving her legs to dodge the dolls.
"You okay?!"
"No problem at all!"
She says it like shattered arms are just part of daily life now.
Fighting might be impossible, but with Yoo Daon here, escape was doable somehow.
Sometimes I'd halt a doll with gunfire, and when dodging was too late, Yoo Daon would take the hit instead, and we finally reached the church.
The moment we arrive, Song Arin grabs our arms, shoves us inside, and strains to shut the massive door.
With a thunderous boom, the door closes, and she locks the huge wooden bar before rushing over to us.
"Any injuries?!"
"Mine's some scrapes and a sore arm."
"My clothes are a bit torn!"
"As long as we're alive."
-Bang! Bang!
Something pounds on the door from outside.
Fortunately, it doesn't look like it'll give way anytime soon.
"I was heading for the car, but I found something inside here."
"Something?"
"There's stuff underground."
Song Arin bites her lip as she says it.
"Like I said earlier, this is the early stage of a god's birth."
"You said there are no gods."
"Right. Gods are made by human faith."
Song Arin stares straight at me.
"So a god is being born right now."
It takes me a moment to grasp what she's saying.
"...Ah."
"Got it? Some group's fanatic belief is materializing the Mountain God right now."
"So we just find that group and smash them, right?"
"If it's not too late. But it will be soon."
Song Arin bites her lip hard.
"Once it fulfills all the conditions to become a god, what do you think it'll do first?"
'And the Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul.'
I recall the mud dolls' background.
The Garden of Eden, Adam and Eve, and these dolls that eerily resemble humans.
"...Make humans, I suppose."
"Exactly."
She nods.
"The first thing any god does once it becomes one is the same. Create its works."
"And those creations are starting to move."
"Soon, they'll integrate into this world as self-aware entities."
"Huh."
"If that happens... they'll become objects too tough to take down."
Song Arin gazes out through the church's high windows.
"What if we can't stop it?"
"Total war. It'll use its creations to wage holy war for more faith."
"Damn Management Bureau—why couldn't they warn us about this shit ahead of time?"
"I agree."
I let out a sigh.
"No radio signal, escape route blocked. Unless some ghost-strong Containment Team shows up out of nowhere, we're the only ones who can handle this, huh?"
"..."
Song Arin nods with a grim expression.
"...Well, guess we have to."
No one else to solve this, can't run away.
The world itself shoving a knife in our faces like this.
What massive sin did I commit in my past life?
"What's the plan?"
"Like you said, take out the followers first. Then... find the main body and deal with it fast."
"Deal with the main body? Any idea where it is?"
"..."
Song Arin points to the floor.
"...This is what you meant by 'stuff underground'?"
She nods.
I'm not mentally prepared yet.
And something still feels off, like I'm missing a piece.
As I cradle my head in thought, the pounding grows louder.
"You two go down."
Yoo Daon says calmly, stepping in front of the door.
"I'll hold them off."
"You alone?"
"Who knows?"
Yoo Daon glances back at me with a confident smile.
"I'll hold them until you're done, Jaeheon. No—I will hold them."
"..."
Is this right?
Even for Yoo Daon, against humans made of mud...
Humans?
"Song Arin."
"Should I stay too?"
"Not that."
Though she is staying.
"If the Mountain God gets closer to being a 'god' as time passes, those creations will get closer to humans too, right?"
"Well... usually, yeah?"
"So eventually, they'll develop intelligence too?"
"I think I know what you're getting at."
Song Arin rests her chin on her hand and nods.
"Yeah. I'll stay."
"Arin, one hit and you're dead!"
"Black hair's got a point."
Ignoring Yoo Daon's words, Song Arin grins fiercely and steps forward.
"But if they can't lay a hand on me, it's fine."
"I believe in you."
"You're only saying that now, but if you believe in me, I might do even better."
I lock eyes with Song Arin once, then drag Yoo Daon down the stairs.
Yoo Daon mutters worriedly.
"Will Arin be okay?"
"She's the perfect person for the job."
Yoo Daon can't hold off that horde of dolls.
Me? What could I do? Shoot?
By process of elimination, only Song Arin can block them completely, even if it's probabilistic.
It'd be different if Jang Chaeyeon were here.
To lighten the mood, Yoo Daon chimes in brightly.
"So now we just take down that Mountain God thing? Jaeheon, you got a good plan this time too, right?"
"Hmm."
"No worries if not! I can buy time."
Her trust is so heavy it's crushing me, but no good plan text appears as it should.
[Critical: 0]
I stare at the window, silently mocking my lack of ideas.
Why do others solve things effortlessly while I have to rack my brain to the point of death?
This is so unfair.
I heave a deep internal sigh, sprint forward, and soon a vast basement appears.
"...This must be it."
It's unmistakably a place for prayer.
Chairs like you'd see in a church or cathedral are scattered around, and oddly, even wooden fish drums lie overturned—a bizarre ecumenical religious hub.
"There should be people here... but none?"
"Yeah."
Doesn't this mean we fail at wiping out the followers?
"Should we trash the place?"
"I have a lighter!"
"You smoke?"
"Won't get lung cancer, but I don't really want to!"
Yoo Daon busily sets fire to paper and books with the lighter.
Can't burn desks and chairs with that, though.
Should've snuck some butane gas if I knew.
Maybe next time for real?
Lost in pointless thoughts, we keep lighting fires, and at least the paper and books burn away completely.
"Shall we go?"
Yoo Daon's refreshed voice snaps me back.
"Yeah."
I follow her down the stairs.
*
Song Arin's gaze follows the two descending figures.
The black-haired woman who smiles every day but whose thoughts are impossible to read, and...
"..."
Her eyes linger long on the man's back.
A guy whose eyes stand out, but whose ideas and solutions couldn't be found by eyes alone.
Not eloquent, but not crude either—hard to hate.
And right now, that beggar-white hair drawing her gaze for no reason.
How much does she like him that her eyes won't leave?
"He better not get hurt... She's the crazy one. Worry about myself."
She swallows the words nearly escaping her lips, tosses them far away, clicks her tongue, turns her gaze, and faces the door.
-Thud! Thud!
A roar echoes, and the door shatters open.
Mud dolls pour in.
In that short time, their movements have become disciplined, showing far more intelligence.
And that's her opportunity.
Intelligence means hypnosis works. Especially fresh-born intelligence falls easiest.
The creations awakened with the Mountain God's stirring are no different from infants.
Song Arin focuses her mind.
Miraculously, the horde of mud dolls freezes.
Sweat pours down her forehead like rain, but she ignores it, glaring with wide eyes in concentration.
Soon, silence reigns.
Not a single doll moves, rooted in place.
Still sweating, Song Arin mutters.
"Hurry back. I'm holding on just looking at you right now."
In her mind, one man endlessly repeats descending the stairs.