Chapter 119
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 119
Chapter Title: April Vengeance (8)
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The hinges had fallen off. A sinister metallic clang echoed against the floor. The remaining ones weren't in good shape either. They screeched sharply with every impact. Loose screws poked their heads out, as if crawling free on their own.
A crisis... The explosion hasn't gone off yet? The pondering boy spotted a distribution box nearby. A vague inspiration struck him. Looking back, the changing room was a sealed space. Could it work?
Boom! Winter cautiously backed away from the shuddering door. It should hold for a little while.
The distribution box was locked. He shattered the lock with a pistol shot. Then he opened it and cut power to the entire room. The enclosed space plunged into darkness. Being a changing room, there wasn't a single window.
'The ventilation fans should have stopped too.'
Winter donned his night-vision goggles and gripped a smoke grenade in one hand. The pin was already pulled. All he had to do was let go. But too soon would be a problem. The sick and starving things needed to charge in blindly. They had to fill this space completely, so that even if they realized something was wrong, they couldn't escape easily.
A crashing sound. Wood splintering into the room. The door warped badly, gaping open at the top and bottom. Only the handle and the lock nearby were holding on.
This should do it. Winter tossed the smoke grenade into the row of cabinets. Two breaths later, it hissed, spewing green smoke. Then—boom! The door finally shattered. Like a dam breaking. A flood of corpses poured in.
Light and death spilled in together. Unable to withstand the mass, they collapsed and piled on themselves.
Winter lured them. Deeper in, further inside. The paths between the cabinets were already shrouded in thick smoke. The light had been dim to begin with, so even Winter couldn't secure visibility. He flipped up his night-vision goggles and put on his gas mask. He groped along both sides, continuing to backpedal.
Crash! Thud! The cabinets doubled as partitions. Mutants were noisily entering from the other side too. Given time, those from the opposite direction would attack from behind.
In the smoke, Winter climbed onto the cabinets. Silently, in one motion.
The pursuers passed right by where Winter had been. They kept coming. Lying flat on his belly, Winter felt the cabinets' rough vibrations. Collisions from things passing on either side. At arm's reach, their ragged breaths were audible.
Keh-luk! Kre-wek! The pained coughs of the lead ones passing by.
Even non-weapons could become weapons at times. Smoke, no matter the purpose, was ultimately produced by burning something. In a sealed space, it could induce respiratory distress.
Winter lay still, waiting. Listening to the sick things' coughs grow ever more numerous.
'Oxygen depletion is dangerous for me too...'
Too many of them were breathing in this confined space. And the gas mask only filtered harmful components—it didn't generate oxygen. How quickly would the oxygen run out? Hard to gauge. The key was how long it took for the mutants to suffocate. It was tricky without visual confirmation. Wearing both gas mask and night-vision goggles was difficult. Even with night-vision, the smoke would obscure everything.
Winter crawled forward. No need to muffle his sounds.
The coughs turned into a boiling groan. Oxygen-starved ones couldn't even issue warnings. Even the relatively intact ones would have their sense of smell numbed. Winter carefully climbed down. Something squished under his descending foot. Tangled things writhing in agony. Kkuek. Kkuek. Kkueeek. Their voices thick with moisture.
A radio transmission came in.
[ Lieutenant Han, what's your current status? ]
The bone-conduction receiver meant no sound leaked out.
But responding was tricky. Instead of speaking, Winter tapped the mic. Meaningless, yet clearly artificial rhythm. Hard to mistake for mere noise.
[ Sounds like you're in a tough spot... The boiler will explode soon. One minute thirty-seven seconds from now. We've sealed the east passage. If you need to change plans, tap three times. Otherwise, five. ]
Crack. At breathing distance, Winter twisted a mutant's neck and signaled the investigator to proceed as planned.
[ Understood. Stay safe. See you at the stairs to the tenth floor. ]
Time waiting for the explosion. The shadowy corner was a pit of groans. The faint light from the entrance revealed nothing. Relying on hearing and touch alone, Winter killed everything nearby and approaching. Was this how a blind man's fight felt?
Kwaang!
The blast sounded smaller than expected. A dissonant note intruding on a symphony.
Moments later, a rush of heat. The room was already stifling. Mutants' body temperatures ran higher than humans', so the heat spiked sharply.
While groping through smoke and darkness in a low stance, Winter sensed an unusual texture. Even through gloves, the difference was clear. Skin unlike ordinary mutants. A firm texture.
Special mutant.
They weren't superior in every way just because they were stronger. Greater metabolism meant greater oxygen needs. Listening closely, amid the noise, a distinctly ragged groan stood out.
It would die on its own anyway. Or suppress its metabolism. Even if the latter, it'd wake up trapped. It couldn't brute-force through the fire door.
Might already be poisoned.
Winter ignored it and moved on. The floor was littered with exhausted bodies, making it hard to keep balance.
The entrance was half-blocked. Lucky the outside ones were drawn to the blast. Otherwise, exiting would have been a real ordeal.
Finally, the corridor. Open space. But the sense of openness came only through echoes from all directions. Visibility had merely shifted from pitch black to hazy white.
Reaching a straight stretch, Winter removed his gas mask. And started running.
In the thick steam, visibility was just 1-2 meters. Mutants couldn't react properly to the boy bursting out. Smack! A mutant's teeth shattered under his fist to the jaw. For one blocking straight ahead, he slammed into it full-body. Weight of his gear plus body mass. Plus elite technique concentrating the impact. The hit mutant flew back one-sidedly.
Even for Winter, it tested his reflexes' limits. His running speed matched the rate mutants popped out. Poor conditions shortened his sensory adjustments. He had to react the instant he saw them. Strike? Shove? Brush past?
The howls of struck-and-fallen ones came too late. Winter was already up to speed, vanishing into the steam. The mutant that missed its prey roared. Countless footsteps converging on the call, distances closing. Winter dropped low and rolled. The rolling boy crossed paths with the mutant horde in an instant. Some tripped over him. He crushed their throats with his elbow. Uplifting strikes above the neck, with enough force to collapse the cervical vertebrae.
Mutant density rose in the passage ahead. They loomed like walls in the steam. Even quick turns didn't help. Mutants spotting Winter went berserk. No gap to advance. He tripped charging ones while pulling a grenade pin and rolling it. Then grabbed a nearby mutant's collar, spinning it toward the rolled grenade.
The mutant's eyes widened facing the boy. A beautiful woman with a pale complexion. Her mouth gaped wide to bite him.
Bang!
The steam churned from the shockwave. Even with the clustered mutants absorbing the blast, Winter couldn't withstand the pressure on his shield. He toppled backward. Eeee—his ears rang sharply, sounds distant for a moment. The shield pinned atop him breathed no more. He rolled it aside.
Reaching the corridor's end, Winter groped the wall. It was around here. The bulkhead lever...
"Kieeeek!"
Winter slammed the mutant's head into the lever. Crunch. The handle dug into the monster's face. He yanked it fully. The lever bent, smashing the monster's head again.
Even with its face caved in, the mutant pushed against the wall to escape. Winter didn't resist its force. Adding his own, he hurled it back down the corridor. Clamoring and collapsing beyond the fog.
He booted another lunging one. Kicked the gut, kneed the buckling face upward, elbowed the leaping head down. Then immediately unleashed a magazine's suppressive fire.
The bulkhead was already halfway down. Winter dove under it. Rolled to brake with his knee, using momentum to upright his torso. He twisted the rifle to eject the empty mag, slamming in a fresh one—all in a breathless half-breath.
Rat-tat-tat-tat! Tat-tat! Tat-tat-tat!
Mutants piercing the steam fell in sequence. One dead head caught under the bulkhead. Thud, thump. Winter stomped it with his sturdy combat boot. Cracks in bone with each strike, head deforming as the bulkhead descended. Finally, the skull shattered. The bulkhead ground the remaining flesh and bone fragments.
Half a crushed head remained at Winter's feet.
Blocked by the bulkhead, steam no longer spread this way. Visibility improved rapidly.
Gunfire like nearby explosions. The investigator was engaged?
Racing toward the stairs, Winter witnessed mutants being torn apart in real time. Each shot's power like an iron flail from the shotgun. The investigator crouched behind cover, dumping thirty rounds of buckshot on those crossing over. A leaping mutant flipped backward. Spilled guts were a bonus.
'No need to help.'
She'd called herself an irregular warfare veteran, and it wasn't bluster. Aiming and fire distribution near-perfect. No mutant took more than three hits. Shotguns were short-range to begin with. She'd chosen a familiar weapon, as claimed. No ordinary guts could handle it. Impressive strength wielding over 7 kilos nimbly too.
Click. Facing the returning muzzle, Winter raised his hand.
"Easy. It's me."
"...You're safe. I was terribly worried."
Agent Gibson exhaled in relief. Her sigh trembled faintly. Then she asked him to cover briefly. Winter watched the main entry from beside the counter she was in. Meanwhile, the female investigator ejected the mag from her gun. Not a standard one. Thick, flat drum shape for thirty-two buckshot rounds.
Winter's rifle mags could be discarded several times over, but her drum's bulk made carrying multiples tough. Reload when you could.
"How on earth did you get out of there?"
She asked while hand-loading shells from her pouch. Winter explained. Smoke grenade to induce suffocation in the changing room, then just ran the corridor.
"Number of simultaneous engagers matters. With visibility limited, how could they spot and swarm me? Slower speed would've been riskier."
The investigator shook her head.
"Conceivable idea, but I couldn't muster the nerve. The smoke grenade was brilliant improvisation. You'll shine in San Francisco too."
Finishing loading, she racked the shotgun's charging handle. Empty chamber exposed. She chambered a spare round, then inserted the mag. And asked Winter,
"What now? Over a thousand cabins at a glance."
She pointed to the ship's internal diagram. Hung on the counter's inner front wall. Reviewing deck layouts, she continued without waiting for his reply.
"Secure the bridge first? This ship's like a hotel at sea. Bridge doubles as management, so... internal lines to check cabins. Maybe CCTV. Even without, we can stop or slow the ship to buy time."
Solid idea. Winter nodded.
============================ Author's Notes ============================
#Q&A
Q. 순회하는영혼님 : @Personally, it feels like the AI is creating environments similar to past memories that Winter can overcome for his happiness... And as it does, his surroundings get tougher and harder... But how should we view happiness induced and created through the AI...?
A. It's true details of the world vary by individual... Hehe... Winter has already mentioned the distinction between AI and humans. Whether that's sincere or a lie to reassure his therapist is unknown.
Q. 검은비66님 : @The more I read, the more curious I am about this novel's ending. Does the zombie problem in this game resolve? Does protagonist Winter's pain get resolved for a happy end? Or back to reality, ending with reality-related episodes...? Spoilers, so hard to say, but can you answer what you can? 1. Do you have the ending set? 2. Focus: resolving zombie issue in VR? Winter's healing and happiness? Satire of modern society, predictions of modern/future society, ending that makes think about true happiness? 3. Too early, but if this ends, plans for sequel? In short, will writing be your career, or hobby—write occasionally if inspired, but not steadily like a job??
A. 1. Ending is set, of course. The novel's last line is Winter's one line of dialogue. Exact content is spoiler, can't say.
2. Focus is obviously real-world conflicts. The rose blooms there too.
3. Planned a mid-length [Road to Happiness] in same universe's future, but haven't finished Columbarium properly... Don't want to raise expectations.
And I want to be a full-time writer. Columbarium is my debut. If I can support family proudly as writer, it'll be my job. Otherwise... quit novels...
Q. app2225님 : @Unlike Winter's era, modern high school girls come standard with 6 arms, 10 tentacles, 4 pairs of eyes—Winter can't win. Haha
A. Sigh. Coming back from market today, delinquent girls fired lasers from their eyes. Gotta wear diapers from now on. Scary...
Q. 매실농축액2님 : Columbarium.... Now that I've enjoyed it, title fits, but first sight gave huge prejudice, didn't wanna read. (...) Lucky to try via 지메클로경's rec.
A. Always wondered—what's 지메클로경? Person? Site?
Q. RGZ95님 : @Tunguska-nim's writing charm is scene immersion, right @[email protected]? Feels like watching directly, always fun.
A. RGZ95-nim, you're being fooled by me actually. Scenes pop in readers' heads cuz writer telepathically sends images during reading.
Phew. Daily like this, mental drain is extreme. Someday gotta win with pure prose, no tricks... Korean too hard.