ep13. Where Blood Rains (5)

Another dud.

I clicked my tongue as I took in the lush green forest. We had entered our fourteenth zone, and this was "Zone I. Forest of Amphibians" — a stage we had already broken through twice before.

I had committed the basic information on this place to memory through Cha Si-eon's notebook, and I had seen with my own eyes how it was cleared. So, deciding it was about time I started pulling one man's weight, I made a proposal.

"I'll lure out the 'Faceless Things.'"

That would make it that much easier for Cha Si-eon to find and smash the radio. I said it to take some of the load off him.

But Cha Si-eon shook his head without a second's hesitation.

"Do not move. Observe only."

"Why does it have to be that way?"

"There is no telling what variables may arise when two people are moving. So conserve your strength in the rear."

So he was going solo again this time, too? I couldn't tell whether that was a rational argument or a lunatic's stubbornness.

Vreeeeng— krrriiiee— vroooong—!

Just then, the radio crackled to life. Cha Si-eon dashed into the forest, leaving me behind.

Shff—!

"Faceless Things" rose up from the shadows of the trees.

Thk— thk—!

Cha Si-eon sped through them, stabbing and slashing in a blur as he passed.

Yeah — worn out ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠or whatever, the man was undeniably good at this. He'd clear this stage with room to spare on his own this time, too.

But was that really the best approach? Because we'd only ever played solo, we couldn't know what variables a two-person run might introduce? Then find out. Instead of stubbornly skewering every last monster to death by yourself.

While I watched, unconvinced, Cha Si-eon ran through and killed the monster that was, by then, his fifteenth or so, and stepped off its corpse in a leap. Like a tiger scaling a tree in great strides, he snatched the radio from the treetop and hurled it down to the ground.

KRAK—!

The radio that had chattered without end fell silent. And the door hidden near the fence all this while swung open. The exit.

Right — why had I even worried about that? Great Team Leader Cha Si-eon, do whatever you like.

...I told him to do whatever he wanted, but I never dreamed he'd go this far.

Cha Si-eon hurled sand to detonate every last "Exploding Soap Bubble." He plunged boldly into that chain of blasts, flipped the "Bubble-Vomiting Doll" over, and traced the black thread. Finding the "Commanding Bug" hidden in the grass ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and stomping it dead took him less than two minutes.

Thanks to which, I now felt like a spectator at a strongman show.

The moment the "Commanding Bug" died, another door opened by the stands. I checked the time as I stepped out into the garden beyond the zone: 2:53 p.m., by the analog watch Cha Si-eon had handed over. About four hours had passed since I entered this place, and we had just cleared our nineteenth zone.

The speed at which Cha Si-eon broke the stages had hardly changed since the very beginning. Stage after stage fell without delay or stumble, but... hmm. Judging by the pills he kept knocking back, he was pushing himself too hard. That much was clear.

I handed water to Cha Si-eon as he caught his breath and asked once more.

"Team Leader, are you truly not tired?"

Cha Si-eon drank just enough to wet his mouth and glared at me. Whether he glared or not, I asked again.

"Wouldn't it be better to start dividing up the work?"

"How many times must I say it. Standing still is helping."

Cha Si-eon recited it flatly and passed the canteen back to me. Then he leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, and I just... wow. Seriously, wow.

What on earth was wrong with that man?

If you're going to carry someone on a palanquin, carry them properly. If you're going to be rude, then just be rude. He hauls a perfectly healthy person around on his back while snapping at them, so I had no way of knowing whether I was a treasure beyond price or a useless piece of luggage. Not that I wanted to be both.

The problem was that Cha Si-eon was pulling a Kim Cheomji — the husband from an old Korean classic who buys a bowl of soup for his sick wife and then kicks it over in a fit of senseless rage — and from where I stood, that made absolutely no sense. Because I was not Cha Si-eon's ailing wife.

Then why was he dumping this absurd overprotectiveness and irritability on me? Because, by his standards, I was frail and unreliable? Sure — as if he were the only one one step away from working himself into the grave. I couldn't fathom what he thought he was doing, grinding himself down alone like a fool.

Don't tell me I was supposed to feel fluttery gazing at that broad back of his? Fine — conceding a hundred times, a thousand times, that you're overexerting yourself to cover my share too: was I meant to go misty-eyed with "please don't sacrifice yourself for me," or whistle and say "thanks for the free ride"? Either way of looking at it knocked the wind out of me.

But what could I do? He insisted on rolling through it his own way. Who knew — maybe he was achieving self-actualization through a battle with himself.

Deciding to see just how far he would take it, I resolved to keep watching for now. But at the very next stage, I got a look at the bottom of that rigid man's reserves.

Shaaaaaa—!

The roar of a waterfall reverberated through the space, and ripples flashed swiftly in the darkness. Through them, I could gauge just how much water filled this place.

"Zone D. Gallery 1" had the exact same spatial layout as "Zone E. Gallery 2." The only difference was that large, imposing picture frames hung on the walls in place of photographs — and those frames were spewing water without mercy, like the floodgates of a dam. The corridor floor sloshed underfoot, and darkness pressed in from every side, so that a dread came over me like the feeling of staring out at a heaving sea on a pitch-black night.

This was the first ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠time in twenty zones that we had entered Zone D, so I was quietly on edge. Which turned out to be a waste of perfectly good tension.

SPLOOSH—!

There he went — Team Leader Cha Si-eon, plunging alone into that black water yet again.

I leisurely watched the light bore onward through the water. Perhaps it hit a whirlpool stretch, because midway through, the glow vanished for a moment. Five minutes passed like that, maybe? Then the surroundings brightened, and the water pouring from the frames stopped dead. The flood that had been sloshing through the entire corridor evaporated in an instant, leaving the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠floor bare.

Like the Israelites walking out of Egypt, I strode briskly along the dry path to the end of the corridor. At the door on the far side, Cha Si-eon was waiting for me, soaked from head to toe.

And so, back to the garden. We went to our respective favorite spots and settled down without a word. As I quietly stared at the floor, water dripping off Cha Si-eon's body crept across it.

Except the water was red.

...It was blood.

"Team Leader, where are you hurt?"

"I am not. A previous wound has reopened."

"So you've been moving on an injured body this whole time?"

At my startled protest, Cha Si-eon let out a long breath. It was a blatant warning, its meaning unmistakable: stop making noise.

...What the hell was he doing, seriously?

"Team Leader Cha Si-eon."

Unable to hold back any longer, I broached the subject — and Cha Si-eon didn't even pretend to listen. So I ignored him right back and pressed on.

"I'll be honest with you. Right now, I doubt you're capable of sound judgment."

Only then did Cha Si-eon open his eyes and look at me.

"I know I'm an important person to the Bureau. But how exactly does you overexerting yourself alone help me survive?"

"..."

"If there were even a glimmer of hope, I'd let the overexertion slide. But look at where we are. We're just going in circles inside the zones, aren't we? If endlessly repeating this is the name of the game, then shouldn't we be resting properly and splitting the work reasonably?"

In answer to my question, Cha Si-eon only exhaled a long sigh — the sigh of a man tired and annoyed. So, before Team Leader Cha could fly into another temper, I drove in the wedge.

"If I'm wrong, then tell me specifically why you insist on running solo, and what you intend to accomplish with it. Only then can I follow you."

"Hah..."

Cha Si-eon pressed a hand hard against his eyes and took a deep breath. Then, with effort, he opened his mouth.

"The 'Big Cat' is hunting me. We already crossed paths before dawn, and when the 'Blood Rain' falls, it will come looking again."

"..."

"So we must get out of here before that happens."

Why was he only telling me something this important now...?

Startled by the unexpected revelation, I gathered myself and asked back.

"If the situation is that urgent, why are you doing everything alone?"

"Because we may fail to find the exit."

"...?"

"We may not escape before the 'Blood Rain' falls. No — the odds are high that we won't. So when the time comes, I will split off from you, Seo Do-woon. From that point on, you will have to move on your own. That is why I am telling you to conserve your strength while you are with me."

The unexpected sentences sank slowly into my skull. I chewed them over once, then asked back, bewildered.

"Are you planning to die?"

"I am not ruling out the possibility."