Hog Hijack
Jin-cheol hit the dirt first, flattening himself against the ground. Dol Jumeok followed suit without hesitation, sprawling out beside him, and Lamien, caught off guard by their sudden move, pitched forward onto her belly too.
"What? What's going on? Why are we doing this?"
They'd spotted the Lavito bikers far off in the woods, and that's when Jin-cheol had dropped. Lamien, who hadn't seen them, scanned the surroundings frantically while demanding an explanation from him. Luckily, Jin-cheol didn't need to say more. She clamped her mouth shut as the telltale whine of bike engines reached her ears.
At that moment, Jin-cheol quickly scooped up a pile of fallen leaves and piled them over Lamien. She looked flustered but obediently pulled the leafy blanket over herself. Dol Jumeok, watching from the side, got the idea and burrowed into the leaves like a mole. Once Lamien was covered, Jin-cheol threw some loose camouflage over himself and kept his eyes locked on the distant bikes.
Fuck, is that a hoverbike? No wheels?
Two Lavito bikes came skimming low over the leaves, kicking them up in swirling clouds. The riders perched stylishly atop them, decked out in dark sunglasses, long ears flapping in the wind. The flashy hoverbikes—hogs, as they'd soon learn—weaved through the trees like they were showing off, eventually vanishing into the distance without spotting the group. It felt less like a search and more like joyriding to kill time.
"...Kinda doesn't suit their size, huh?"
Jin-cheol muttered as he slowly rose, brushing himself off. The Lavito riders and their hogs didn't quite match—the bikes were way oversized for the riders.
"Hog nuts think the bigger the hog, the cooler they look."
Lamien stood too, chiming in without much context, but Jin-cheol got it right away from what he'd seen. She shook her head, dusting off her clothes.
Jin-cheol asked, "Hog? That's what you call 'em?"
"Yeah. And the crazies riding them? Hog racers."
"Why 'crazies'?"
"Didn't you see? No safety gear at all. One bump or fuck-up, and they're airborne. Basically self-propelled cannonballs."
Jin-cheol chuckled. "Didn't you fly around too?"
"Don't compare me to speed-junkie hog addicts. I graduated second in my class from flight school—a battle wing pilot."
Lamien straightened her outfit with a haughty sniff. Jin-cheol watched, then his eyes widened slightly.
"You're a girl?"
"...What does that have to do with anything? I'm a soldier."
Lamien's face hardened at the sudden question, and she took a subtle step back. It was just a casual ask about gender, but her reaction was pure defense mode. Jin-cheol shrugged.
"Just curious. Lavitos all look the same to me still."
"...Fine. Now you know."
"I'm a guy too."
Dol Jumeok piped up out of nowhere. Their eyes turned to him as he shook leaves from his bulk and stood.
Jin-cheol said, "...Who didn't know that?"
"Why? Could be hard to tell. They find us weird; we find them weird."
Made sense, Jin-cheol thought, glancing back at Lamien. But she shook her head regretfully.
"Central Continent's got Esai and Kampoeni too, rare as they are. Baika traders, Olrogs—you name it. Knew you were guys from the start."
Central Continent. Siol called this the East. Everyone thinks they're the center, huh? Jin-cheol brushed it off, flicking leaves from his clothes. But they had to hit the dirt again—the hogs' engines were circling back.
As he dropped, Dol Jumeok and Lamien flinched and followed. The hogs zipped by the same path as before.
"...Why hide? Just two of 'em."
Dol Jumeok grumbled as they peeled off. Jin-cheol shot him a tired look.
"Kill 'em? Get our clothes dirty a bit longer, we pass without a hitch."
"Ain't they the ones who dropped our airship? Nearly killed us. Hunt 'em for revenge. Two means full bellies."
Lamien, nodding at the first part, froze at the end. She gaped like she'd misheard.
"Uh... did you just say... hunt and fill our bellies...?"
"Two means good meat. You'll eat your fill too."
"...W-wait, I meant steal supplies or... not, like, right now...?"
"?"
Dol Jumeok blinked blankly. Lamien, reading grim certainty in his face, shot up, yanking her hip pistol with a clatter.
"What? Wanna fight?"
"What the hell! Y-you're gonna... eat people!?"
Dol Jumeok tilted his head at her trembling gun barrel, clueless. Jin-cheol sighed deeply, rising to step between them. Lamien's terrified eyes flicked to him, nose twitching wildly. He gently lowered her barrel; she panted but didn't resist.
"Didn't you say you knew Olrogs?"
"...O-Olrogs and... eating people... what's that got to...?"
Jin-cheol sensed a cultural gap. "Where'd you see those Olrogs?"
"...Harbor. On a Baika trade ship."
"Ah."
The bomb-collar slaves. He shook his head slowly. Seeing collared haulers doesn't count as 'knowing' Olrogs.
"Saw their collars too?"
"...Collars?"
He mimed one around his neck. Lamien's eyes lit up with an "ah."
"Why wear those?"
"...So all Olrogs...?"
"Not all. But it's their default."
"..."
Lamien eyed Dol Jumeok complexly, hand shaking like she itched to shoot. But seeing Jin-cheol in the way, she calmed.
"...So you're not eating me now?"
"Course not. We're allies, right? Don't eat our own."
Jin-cheol jumped in, glaring at Dol Jumeok, who blinked like 'Ain't she emergency rations?' Only after Jin-cheol's narrow-eyed stare did Dol Jumeok nod.
"No eating. Allies. For now."
"..."
Lamien holstered her gun, still eyeing him warily. Jin-cheol sighed. Fat chance they'll bond.
The hog engines whined again. They dropped; two more passed.
"Dunno what, but they're circling the same spot. Found our trail."
"Nah. Just playing."
Lamien countered; eyes turned to her. She looked unsure but pressed on.
"Told you—hog riders are nuts. Rumor says they race enemy scouts instead of fighting. Same trees every pass? Probably racing each other."
"Heh. Romantic."
Or just Tang Dynasty joyboys. Should've guessed from the shades and flapping ears. No need to hunt them anyway. Jin-cheol's goal was escape, not Zasoyeonbang revenge.
But an idea sparked.
"They're heading away from the crash. Be back soon. Let's bounce."
Lamien rose, but Jin-cheol grinned instead.
"...?"
Her nose twitched at the ominous glint.
*
"Yeehaw!"
"Hee-yah!"
The hog racers slalomed thrillingly between trees, flaunting their skills. Mission was recon this area, hunt Zasoyeonbang survivors—capture or kill resisters. But the hog rush had them hooked; duty forgotten.
"This haul's mine!"
"Don't slack! Catch you before the woods end!"
"Haha! Eat my dust!"
They bellowed over engines, kicking up dirt, dust, leaves. One with their hogs, they flowed like river water through the trees.
"Huh?"
The leader spotted something: a Lavito in battle wing leathers amid the trees. He signaled his wingman. They slowed, drawing short-barreled SMGs, closing in.
The figure raised hands in surrender—disheveled, face stiff with exhaustion.
"..."
They halted at a safe distance, engines idling. As the whine faded, she shouted:
"I'm Lieutenant Lamien, Zasoyeonbang battle wing pilot! I demand treatment befitting my rank!"
"Rank treatment? Surrendering?"
"...Yes! I surrender!"
Lamien yelled stiffly. The Urata soldiers exchanged glances, dismounted, guns trained, approaching warily.
Up close: "What? A chick? Zasoy pigs let girls fly battle wings?"
"..."
Lamien kept hands up silently. They shrugged, lowering guns.
"Surrender's surrender. Come with us. Fallen nation's pilot—what big treatment you get, who knows."
"Battle wing pilot could flip sides? Flight school grads usually."
"Hmph. Pilots vary. No skill, no dice—"
Leaves exploded underfoot. Two giants erupted. The yakking soldiers tumbled back, collars snatched, SMGs yanked.
"Kek!"
"Gek!"
The Lavitos dangled airborne—the attackers dwarfed them. Jin-cheol and Dol Jumeok, naturally.
Jin-cheol shook his trembling captive. "Your airship dump cost me my comfy ride. So I'll borrow your bikes—hogs—for payback."
"...Hic."
Tears welled in the Lavito's eyes.
*
Thus, Jin-cheol scored new wheels. Controls were simple once shaken out of the rider. Soon, Jin-cheol on one hog, Dol Jumeok on the other. Lamien eyed them, then silently hopped on behind Jin-cheol.
From the rising hog, Jin-cheol yelled at the tree-tied soldiers:
"Thanks! We'll take good care!"
"...Sob."
The Lavito hung his head, unable to watch his steed go. Whatever—Jin-cheol throttled up once airborne.
"Whoa!"
"Eek!"
A light tug, and it shot forward like on ice. Lamien clutched Jin-cheol tight. The two hogs left the bound duo behind.
"This is badass..."
Jin-cheol whooped, banking the sleek-gliding hog. Wind whipping his face, woods blurring by, pure flight.
"This is fucking awesome—!"
Speed built; trees smeared into blobs. Senses sharpening, Jin-cheol floored it. Engines roared, intakes sucking air; it rocketed like a missile.
His eyes widened—the woods ended. His hog charged a low hillock.
It crested without slowing, launching skyward. Vision exploded: sheer coastal cliffs, blue sea, drifting clouds.
Then it dropped—not crashing, but gliding height.
Startled birds erupted from the shore in a massive flock.
"..."
Jin-cheol halted, staring dumbstruck. Not thousands, not tens—hundreds of thousands, a black fog rising. Wings gleamed silver in noon sun, yellow beaks and back patterns blazing. Powerful flaps bore them skyward, filling the air, then seaward.
Hunting? Mating? Jin-cheol watched blankly.
Ten thousand years post-nukes, experts said nature's scars needed eons to heal. Lost species, broken balance—irrevocable, maybe forever.
But here? Not so long after all.
"...Stinks. Hard to breathe. Why stop?"
Lamien peeked up. Jin-cheol finally caught the fishy reek and guano, grinning.
"Check the birds. Wild, right?"
"Birds? For weird, those snails beat 'em."
"...Snails?"
His gaze dropped from sky to ground. Where birds fled, dog-sized snails crawled, licking cliff cracks—shit, slime, even corpses.
"What the...?"
Contrasting the avian exodus: stone-licking behemoths.
"Corpse snails. Venomous, they say."
"Snails with venom?"
Engines whined—Dol Jumeok arrived, tension easing.
"Waited? No need."
"...Yeah. Let's roll."
"Good."
Not really waiting, but Jin-cheol let it slide. Venom snails creeped him out; they were inching closer. He gunned it; hog lifted.
Irreversible forever? Not entirely wrong.
The trio hugged the coast north, per Lamien's hunch of a village soon. No pursuit—stolen hog soldiers not back yet? Sunny skies, horizon sea, brisk wind: odd liberation.
"Shoulda nabbed those shades."
Eyes stung sans protection. Not for nothing they wore 'em. Lavito-sized, but maybe...
Far off: clustered shapes.
Dol Jumeok pulled alongside, yelling: "Village!"
Yeah. Village. First in the East.