Chapter 5: Time to Earn My Keep
The translucent control panel, glowing with a faint crimson hue, returned to its original color. Jin-cheol blinked in confusion and turned to Atukai. But even he couldn't hide his bewilderment.
"...Is this okay?"
"...No. Did you do something?"
"I didn't do anything."
Atukai pushed Jin-cheol aside and approached the translucent panel, trying to manipulate the screen. But at that moment, the panel's color shifted to crimson again, and the voice of the Mother Tree echoed through the room.
[No Contact Authority]
"..."
For the first time, Jin-cheol saw the Kampoeni gripped by fear and panic. Even the usually innocent and laid-back Tobi looked terrified, stirring an involuntary pang of pity in him.
"You okay? Something's wrong here."
"...What did it say? I suddenly can't understand you... I see. The Mother Tree isn't whispering to me anymore..."
Atukai's voice trembled faintly as he spoke. The artifact attached to the nape of his neck seemed to have stopped working.
Seeing this, Jin-cheol held his tongue instead of blurting out something rash, sinking into thought. The elder Kampoeni clutched his head with shaking hands.
"The Mother Tree's warning just now should have come when you touched the altar. Outsiders aren't allowed to touch it—that's when the alert sounds... But it happened to me... How could this... In my generation... On this day of all days, the Mother Tree abandons us... What is this..."
He was spiraling deeper into panic. Tears welled up in his round eyes.
Jin-cheol, lost in thought for a moment, snapped out of it at the sight. He placed his hand back on the translucent panel.
"...Hey, what do I call this thing anyway?"
"No. I want to hand over this administrator authority."
"Yeah."
Done? Jin-cheol lifted his hand from the panel and looked at Atukai. But he was still lost in panic, clutching his head in place.
"Atukai."
"...This can't be happening. Of all times, while I'm elder..."
"Atukai!"
Jin-cheol's voice carried weight. Atukai jolted and looked up. Jin-cheol continued calmly.
"Can you understand me now?"
"Wh-what?"
"I'm asking if the artifact on your nape is working right. I'm not speaking Kampoeni."
Atukai's blank expression lit up in the next instant. His face beamed like a happy puppy.
"Oh, ooh! I can understand you! The Mother Tree is whispering to me again!"
He shouted and rushed back to the panel. The screen, which had turned red and rejected him moments ago, now displayed farm stats in tables and numbers.
Regaining his composure, Atukai turned and grabbed Jin-cheol's hand.
"Thank you! Truly!"
"No need. If I hadn't touched it, this wouldn't have happened in the first place."
Atukai's round eyes stared silently at Jin-cheol. For a long moment, his beaming face said nothing, just gazing. Jin-cheol, meeting the stare with blinking eyes, gently shook the hand after a pause.
"Atukai?"
"...They are the wise and benevolent rulers who will one day return, guardians of order, true masters of the world... But the name that precedes all is our 'friend'..."
"Pardon?"
Atukai shook his head slowly, something muttering behind his lips.
"No, nothing." He rubbed his nose and changed the subject. "Right, as you say, if you hadn't touched it needlessly, this wouldn't have happened! How do you take responsibility? We might've all had to abandon the village!"
"Pardon? Why pin it all on me? You told me to touch it first."
"Oh, right?"
Atukai burst into loud laughter—uhaha—then nodded.
"Well, my fault too, so let's quietly forget it. Trouble if the others find out."
"Who would I tell? Already forgotten."
"Really?"
"Yes."
Despite Jin-cheol's half-hearted tone, Atukai grinned and pulled something from under the altar, thrusting it into his arms. A ripe bunch of bananas.
"...Bribing me to keep quiet?"
"You get it. Not enough?"
"No, plenty to share with the kids."
"Share? Not enough for one."
Jin-cheol grinned back.
"Too sweet to eat alone."
*
After Jin-cheol left with the bananas, Atukai opened the hidden compartment at the base of the Mother Tree altar. Inside was a thick book. Placing it on the desk, he blew on the cover—phoo—sending dust flying and revealing the title.
If Jin-cheol had seen those letters, he would've been stunned.
[Farm Administrator's Guide]
"Ahem..."
Opening the book revealed a chaotic interior—pages worn from endless annotations, old paper mixed with newer sheets and pasted drawings, all tattered. The section Atukai sought was at the end, mostly newer paper. It spanned the book's center with two opposing illustrations: one of a tall, sturdy man's back gazing into the distance, surrounded by beaming Kampoeni; the other, a black shadow giant burning the forest and world.
Atukai gazed at the drawings with clear eyes.
*
Leaving Atukai's room, Jin-cheol climbed the stairs to his own. But his steps slowed midway up the bamboo staircase, halting just a few paces short.
"..."
His face darkened deeply. The heavy shadows on his silent features seemed like the primal forest's darkness had rushed in to devour it.
"No damn clue what's going on."
He whispered. The scenes he'd just witnessed cluttered his mind: user, administrator, bio-droid, Mother Tree, semi-automated underground farm, Arabic numerals, charts. If this was truly another world, why greet him with such familiar concepts and words? If it differed from reality, shouldn't the ideas—and their labels—be alien too?
Then what was his situation if not another world? His last memory was shooting a mad old bastard and being buried in the collapsing lab—yet he awoke in a fluffy-dog village. What of the races Tobi described?
Jin-cheol's eyes turned sideways. No safety rails on stairs or buildings; beyond Kampoeni Village stretched dense primal forest. Lush green trees and grass blotted the sky, casting deep, stark shadows below in contrast to the bright canopy above. It felt like someone watched from that darkness.
Was he mad? Or hallucinating on death's doorstep? Maybe both. Neither was pleasant. Or perhaps...
He might've died long ago. Not in some grand super-soldier lab, but in a barracks corner. With his squadmates. "Sole surviving squad leader" might just be a purgatory sliver.
As if affirming it, a shape emerged from the facing shadows. The dead. Their final moments: ruined barracks, blood-soaked flesh piles. Soldiers who died with eyes open, staring at Jin-cheol even in death. Their mouths whispered: Let's start a business together, do YouTube, I'll introduce my sister. If not, when this shitty war ends, meet at a decent bar for drinks. Come with us. We're waiting.
"Shut the fuck up."
The whisper vanished with the vision. Jin-cheol stared into the forest gloom with dark eyes. It didn't return. And oddly, he felt a twinge of sorrow.
"...What a clusterfuck."
Standing dumbly on the stairs with bananas in hand, he muttered, a smirk—sneer, hollow laugh, or both—creeping across his lips. Shaking his head alone, he strode forward briskly. The forest shadows remained dark, making no grab for him. Jin-cheol bounded up the stairs.
The stairs fit Kampoeni feet; he was too big, skipping three or four at a time, reaching Tobi's room swiftly. He slipped through the half-open door. Tobi sat at the desk, scribbling.
"Tobi."
The focused kid whipped around. Jin-cheol held up the bananas. Tobi snatched them eagerly.
"Whoa! Bananas!"
"Where're your friends?"
"Playing in the woods."
Tobi peeled one casually. Jin-cheol chuckled dryly.
"Woods are dangerous, right?"
"Yeah. But village is boring."
"Thrills outside? Real kids..."
Shaking his head, Jin-cheol eyed the desk. Tobi's crude drawing—like a kindergartener's.
"What's this? Dinosaur?"
"What's a dinosaur?"
"Kaarl, Tisara... Tough names. Anyway, what's it?"
"Beast of terror."
"...Definitely dinosaur."
"What's a dinosaur?"
Jin-cheol ruffled Tobi's head laughing instead of explaining. Tobi forgot his question, tongue lolling, panting happily.
"Hungry?"
"You hungry, Jin-cheol?"
"Starving."
"Let's go."
Tobi nodded up at him and led the way. Jin-cheol followed slowly. Hallucination or madness, he needed to eat.
Later, stuffed at the village eatery, he napped in his room—two beds pushed together for him. He even coaxed nagging Tobi to sleep beside. Idling splendidly.
Waking leisurely, village dusk settled, sky red.
"Dinner time already."
"Ugh? Already?"
Tobi stirred sleepily, blinking. Jin-cheol, picking eye boogers and chuckling, stepped out—beds for him alone.
On the stair-balcony, village panorama unfolded. Stretching and yawning deeply, something caught his eye.
"...What the?"
Village bustled. Usually chill Kampoeni dashed urgently along stairs and sway-bridges.
"Yawn... Dinner now, Jin-cheol?"
Tobi approached yawning. Jin-cheol scooped him up without hesitation.
"Eh? Why?"
"Something's up."
He bolted down village stairs toward the crowd at the Mother Tree's base.
"J-Jin-cheol! Too fast!"
"Yeah? Faster then!"
"Waaah—!"
With Tobi's scream as BGM, he leaped stairs, hitting ground quick. Too light, he thought, setting Tobi down. The kid wobbled, staggering.
Grinning at him, Jin-cheol scanned. Nearly all villagers encircled something. Kampoeni waist-high to him, easy to see over—just look up.
Center: Elder Atukai and young Chakai. Atukai stern; Chakai knelt, head bowed.
"Scolded for sneaking to woods? Where's the other?"
Jin-cheol smirked. These innocents rarely disciplined; crowds gathered for spectacles.
But Tobi, hearing from a nearby Kampoeni, shoved through roughly—first fierce side Jin-cheol saw. Stunned, he watched Tobi kneel before Atukai.
"Defending friends? Fluffy lawyer. Like a kids' cartoon."
Atukai's voice rang.
"I can't allow it. Dambha... Just consider him dead from illness."
"Huh?"
Jin-cheol's head tilted at the unexpected. Blinking, he scanned faces—all somber, regretful but resigned, no intent to act.
After a moment, Jin-cheol stepped forward. His size—or visibility—parted the crowd like a river.
The commotion alerted Atukai.
"Jin-cheol."
"Elder."
Bowing slightly, Atukai's lips curved faintly—but bitterly, unlike daytime.
"What's going on?"
"...Hah."
Atukai sighed at Chakai, who broke into sobs at the gaze. Tobi's comfort barely helped.
"What happened?"
"...Chakai and Dambha went deep into the woods, ran into rogue Olrogs."
"Olrogs..."
Olrogs. Cannibals in Jin-cheol's memory—intelligent yet casually devouring others.
"Dambha caught on-site. Chakai fled here."
"...And?"
Atukai's eyes met his—once sparkling, now clouded.
"And what?"
"Not going to save the kid?"
"...No."
The delayed answer darkened Jin-cheol's face. He scanned the crowd—scared fluffballs only.
"We're not warriors."
Lame excuse, belated.
"We're... not used to fighting. Olrogs are three times our size, ten times fiercer. And three rogues, per Chakai. Even thirty villagers would die pointlessly. One loss becomes dozens..."
"So you just watch him get eaten?"
Atukai's bitter smile returned.
"...This is how we live. By Mother Tree's grace, we avoid forest dangers—but lose kin to unavoidable disasters. When beasts invade, we sever bridges, wait them out, drive with arrows. Luckily, Mother Tree punishes ill-intenters harshly, keeping us safe."
"But you've hunted animals. Together, you could..."
"Fighting Olrogs isn't like hunting mindless beasts. They see, think—far stronger warriors. Saving one costs many more. So this... just an accident. We send loved ones off like this. Previous elder, Tobi's parents too."
Jin-cheol glanced at Tobi—comforting Chakai, face rigid.
"You see cowards. This is our way."
Atukai's eyes held ancient fear, helplessness—like indelible scars. Jin-cheol glimpsed their dark side: idyllic lives in Mother Tree's farm, pulp-dyed, dreaming no other ways. Even kin eaten by outsiders? Natural disaster. No one armed despite near-hundred present, knowing the child faced death. Some even turned back to trees. To them, Dambha was already dead.
Yet Jin-cheol didn't condemn these innocents, didn't urge half-assed weapons. Too cruel. He lacked standing anyway.
Instead of blame, he smiled wryly.
"Sometimes, life's about accepting the incomprehensible and moving on."
"...What?"
"Time to earn my keep."
Atukai's eyes widened.