Amachi Village
They stopped the hog first. Far off, a stone wall came into view. Beyond it stood buildings made of brick and tiled roofs, the whole scene reminiscent of an old, sleepy European coastal village. Perched atop sheer seaside cliffs, the village resembled towers rising from a lofty fortress.
Jin-cheol, gazing at the village, spoke up. "You know this place?"
It was a question for Lamien. She poked her head out from between Jin-cheol's side and arm to check it out, then shook her head.
"No idea. First time I've seen it."
"Hmm..."
Should they head into that village right now? The Lavito warlord's forces might be hot on their trail. But they needed to figure out their location. They had to know where they were to pick a direction and keep moving. Besides, Jin-cheol had to track down the Muksaang House, so he especially needed more intel.
"Alright. Let's hide the hog nearby and check it out. Too conspicuous otherwise."
Jin-cheol got the halted hog moving again, scanning for nearby rocks and bushes. He parked it behind a boulder and covered it with shrubs—good enough camouflage. The hog's saddle had leather bags from its original Raider owners, stuffed with small bottles, orders, ammo, and such. Jin-cheol stashed the submachine gun he'd swiped inside one and slung it over his shoulder.
"Let's go."
Jin-cheol took the lead. No telling how the villagers would react, but they had to find out. Lamien followed, her face tense. Dol Jumeok just absentmindedly shoved a handful of forest berries into his mouth and chewed.
Striding into the village, they were greeted by a quiet, serene atmosphere. No one walked the main street.
"Where is everybody?"
"Hardworking Lavitos are probably at their jobs..."
As Lamien said, it was still working hours—farmers in the fields, fishermen out on boats. That's when Jin-cheol caught a glimpse from an alley: eyes peeking out, watching them. But when he looked over, the spying Lavito startled and vanished around the corner.
He hurried that way and spotted a ragged Lavito kid hightailing it, dressed in worn, shabby clothes.
"Hey! You'll trip!"
As Jin-cheol feared, the kid stumbled on two legs, then switched to all fours and bolted. Damn, he can run.
"Inn over there."
Turning at Lamien's words, Jin-cheol saw a sign with a food symbol on the opposite alley the kid had fled from. A wooden-framed building with plaster walls, about four stories tall. No signs of life around, so he and the other two headed over.
Something caught Jin-cheol's eye as they approached. "What's this?"
Pinned to the wall beside the inn door were sheets of paper. Large rectangular posters with bold drawings: a massive bare fist snapping chains, or tiny dark Lavitos getting pummeled. To Jin-cheol, they looked like propaganda posters. Recalling the Lavito script Parm Wirson had taught him, he puzzled out one.
"Overthrow... corruption, in the general's name?"
"I've seen those political postings before. From the Siapo Fishery Cooperative..."
Lamien's face lit up. "Siapo Cooperative has a non-aggression pact with the Urata bastards! They can't come into this village!"
Nice. These rabbits have their shit together.
Jin-cheol eyed the posters with a sour look. There were plenty more. Starting from the one he'd read: a cute kid Lavito with "This 6-year-old girl's happiness is in your hands! Enlist now!" Below a grand, ornate Lavito: "For the father of the nation!" A happy white-furred Lavito family: "The nation protects its people on your support. Join the local party now!" A hunched, twisted-faced Lavito: "Disability is the curse of the evil god Marx!" A Lavito woman hugging kids: "Women of Siapo! Teach your children true love! Homosexuality is Marx's curse!" And on.
From faded ancient ones to fresh postings from days ago, packed with propaganda, incitement, and hate. Seeing them, Jin-cheol's unease turned to a hollow chuckle.
The wars and hatred that had scorched his era stood here arrayed. In the most outdated style imaginable. Fucking ridiculous. At least the protagonists were rabbits, so it was kinda cute. If Olrogs or Esai pulling this shit, it'd be twice as infuriating.
Jin-cheol tugged one edge to check the paper quality. Not bad. Like the flying battleships and hogs, these rabbits had impressive tech.
"You guys do this shit too? 'Enlist in Zasoyeonbang' or whatever?"
"..."
Lamien didn't answer. Glancing over, Jin-cheol saw her staring gloomily at one poster. It showed an energetic female Lavito in a skirt and blouse, flexing her arm. Slogan: "A great homeland needs great mothers! Become a patriotic mother!"
After a moment eyeing her and the posters, Jin-cheol tapped her shoulder.
"...?"
"Let's head in."
"...Yeah."
Jin-cheol pushed open the inn door without hesitation. Sized for Lavitos, it only reached his chest, but ducking inside revealed a high ceiling where he could straighten up. Inside was a plain tavern: round wooden tables and chairs, a bar lining one wall, and a Lavito drying glasses behind it. Probably the owner.
He spotted Jin-cheol entering and spoke. "Oh, an Esai customer—been a while. Come on in."
Lamien and Dol Jumeok followed. The innkeeper eyed their odd trio curiously. Jin-cheol approached the bar, slapped down a silver coin.
"Drinks for three, first."
The innkeeper inspected it, grinned slyly, and shook his head. "This only covers one drink."
"What? That expensive?"
"Zasoyeonbang currency. Banks collapsed—worth scrap metal now."
"..."
Even devalued, it was solid silver, heavy enough to pass as currency in Siol. One coin for a drink was blatant tourist gouging. The innkeeper was trying to fleece him.
Then Lamien spoke. "Those posters outside are awfully worn. Who's in charge of maintenance?"
The innkeeper's smile froze. "Uh, well... me, for now. But who might you be...?"
"Posters falling off, blowing in the wind—no retrieval, no repairs? Reporting to the Order Guardians would get cops dispatched pronto."
"R-Report? Over something that trivial...?"
"Why? Think I won't?"
She flashed her leather coat open. A glimpse of uniform inside. The innkeeper paled, face stretching in fear.
"S-Sorry! Mix-up on poster duty..."
"Fix them ASAP."
"Yes! Sit wherever—drinks on the house right away!"
Lamien pocketed the silver coin without a word and headed to a back table. Jin-cheol and Dol Jumeok alternated glances between her back and the flustered innkeeper prepping glasses, then followed to the corner booth.
Jin-cheol leaned toward Lamien on the small chair. "What was that? Aren't you Zasoyeonbang?"
"...Never said I was Siapo military. He assumed from the uniform glimpse."
Bluffing, huh? Jin-cheol chuckled. Lamien twitched her nose, embarrassed.
"Just... outrageous price. Even with federation banks bust..."
"Nah, you did good. Better than smashing the place over a scam."
Moments later, the innkeeper brought drinks, glasses, and a plate piled with pickled fish. Lamien eyed them.
"Nice color. Local herring?"
"Y-Yes! Amachi herring—famous around here! Pride of Amachi Village! Used to export abroad!"
"Good. Dig in."
The innkeeper bowed with a "Yessir!" and scurried off. Grabbing paste and tacks from behind the bar, heading out—actually fixing the posters, it seemed. Once quiet confirmed, Lamien spoke.
"Amachi in Siapo... near the border. East to Siapo capital, north to Keradi Cross Alliance."
"South? That Urata Trade Cooperative?"
"...Yeah. Used to be Zasoyeonbang land."
Jin-cheol scratched his head. Time to pick a path? He asked Lamien, "Guess it's time we each decide our way. Where you headed?"
"...Back to Solka-in."
"Where's that?"
"Zasoyeonbang capital."
Jin-cheol raised a brow. "With leaders and army fleeing to Siol, doubt it's intact."
"Right. Probably wrecked from bombings and Urata attacks. But I have to go. Someone I must meet."
She pulled a pendant from her bosom. It clicked open, revealing a tiny black-and-white photo. Oh man, laying down some dangerous foreshadowing.
Jin-cheol checked the Lavito in the pic while banishing stray thoughts. "Lover?"
Lamien glanced between him and the photo, hesitating. "...Yeah."
"Huh. He's a looker."
Her eyes widened at the compliment, then she burst out laughing like it'd hit her funny bone. Jin-cheol grinned awkwardly and downed his drink. Truth was, he still couldn't tell handsome from ugly in Lavitos. They all looked much the same to him—rabbit-like, uniformly cute. The photo guy had bright eyes and even fur, sure, but no "hunk" vibe. Still, telling a girl her man's hot should make her happy, right? Don't embarrass me like that.
Then quiet Dol Jumeok piped up. "Looks tender and tasty—"
The table jolted below. He clutched his shin, face twisted, shooting Jin-cheol a resentful glare.
Jin-cheol ignored him. Tactless bastard.
Luckily, Lamien just smiled softly at the photo instead of freaking. "More cute than hot."
"...Heh."
Damn. Who wants to be the lonely one? He recalled a squadmate offering his sister. Back then, he'd nixed it over long hair, but she wasn't bad. If the war had ended clean, maybe he'd have met her.
"..."
Jin-cheol scratched his brow. Pointless. No going back to that era, no matter how deep he thought. That photo girl was probably dust by now. Ten thousand years was plenty.
Dol Jumeok, still rubbing his shin, spoke again. "Need bodyguards, then?"
"What?"
To Lamien staring, he continued. "Rescuing a lover from enemy turf solo? Tough. Two top mercs here—pay us, we'll guard to world's end. Long as you don't welch like General Donchaba, we'll keep our word."
This guy's sneaking me in? Jin-cheol paused mid-retort. The "White Butcher," presumed Ishanka's daughter, was Zasoyeonbang rebel. Track her to the capital? Post-collapse, rebels might hold it.
Turning to Lamien, she gazed at him with hopeful eyes—you in?
"...Ever hear of Muksaang House?"
"Muksaang House?"
Despite the curveball, Lamien pondered, tilting her head. After a bit, she gasped. "The Baika scholars from Jipain? Yeah, heard of 'em."
"Where? When?"
"Rostang. Came for history research—hyped our federation's past as world-class."
"Rostang?"
"Border city—Zasoyeonbang south, Urata north. War started over them claiming its history."
Lamien dipped a finger in booze, sketching on the table. Long west coast, three nations stacked: southernmost Urata Trade Cooperative, Zasoyeonbang, northern Siapo Fishery Cooperative.
Rostang sat Zasoyeonbang south, Urata north. From here, southeast a ways.
"Solka-in?"
"...Here."
Deeper inland. North of Rostang but far east—longer trip.
Jin-cheol scratched his head, mapping it. Priorities? Muksaang House unlikely excavating mid-war, battleships blasting. No guarantee on Ishanka's daughter in Solka-in either. Rebels to find, but Urata occupied now.
Simply: "Got cash at home?"
Thug shakedown vibe. But Lamien brightened. "Of course! Mine company stocks! Liquidate, pay you big!"
"Hiring us both as guards?"
"If you agree!"
Jin-cheol eyed the drying map. Solka-in then Rostang: L-shaped detour. But after the gouge, teaming with Lamien was smart. She knew roads—huge in this nav-less era. Bluffed the innkeeper easy, flexible despite military. Took morning bait role without bitching. Compared to passive soldiers under that crashing airship officer, she was another breed. Solid ally. Better than the herring-munching Dol Jumeok beside him.
Decision made, Jin-cheol smiled at her. "Thought it over. Want something besides cash."
"Like?"
"Looking for people. One's a friend's daughter, others I wanna beat down. Guide me to Solka-in, I'll help you find yours."
"..."
Lamien pondered like he had, then nodded with a smile, extending her hand. Jin-cheol shook it, grinning.
"Deal. Help me meet Epani, I'll help you find yours."
"Epani, huh? Let's go get her."
Their eyes shifted to Dol Jumeok licking a plate. He slurped his lips. "I'm taking cash. Work for pay only."
"...Fine. You're hired."
"Contract."
"Sure."
They pulled scrap paper from bags, flipped it, scrawled a deal—in Lavito and Olrog script. Dol Jumeok admired the scrap with satisfaction.
Thus bound as a party, someone slipped in the open door the innkeeper had left.
Jin-cheol's sharp senses caught it, turning to see the ragged Lavito kid from the alley.
"..."
Unaware of occupants, the kid froze eye-to-eye with Jin-cheol. Then glanced anxiously back, dashed behind the bar, stuffing bread and fruit frantically.
"...What the?"
Party stared dumbfounded as he grabbed a basket, piling food. Then the innkeeper burst in.
"You! Filthy beggar!"
"!"
As he charged, the kid vaulted the bar nimbly, dodging. "Whoa!"
"..."
Innkeeper crashed. Kid hesitated at the fall, then bolted out.
"...?"
All three gawked. Innkeeper rose, approached bowing. "S-Sorry..."
"What's the story?" Lamien asked sternly.
He bowed sweating. "N-Nothing. Village troublemaker..."
"Troublemaker stealing food broad daylight? In front of the owner? Explain properly!"
"W-Well..."
Sensing something off, Lamien pressed; the innkeeper's nose twitched nonstop.