Chapter 123
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 123
Chapter Title: April Vengeance (12)
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The Governor never revealed his name, right up to the end.
[My name? Haha, no can do. I can't tell you that. I'm the Governor. That's all there is to it. Even if humanity's history somehow manages to continue by some stroke of luck, my name won't be in it.]
It was an oddly obsessive stance. Calling someone by name is a tool for building rapport in conversation. Considering that establishing common ground is a prerequisite for successful negotiation, they had hit a roadblock from the very start.
But Joanna Gibson was a seasoned negotiator. She carefully relayed her 「Insight」 to Winter. The psychology of a criminal obsessed with hiding his identity was ultimately a mechanism to cover up guilt.
"Lieutenant, you need to know this. You'll be facing him alone. Whether conversation will even be necessary is debatable, but we have to prepare for the worst-case scenario. We have no idea what's going on over there."
Right now, Winter was pushing through from the 7th deck to the 6th. The FBI agent remained on the bridge. The negotiation was over, but she still had work to do there.
"Assuming success, a surprise attack is always an effective strategy. Someone with a strong intellectual vanity is prone to getting lost in their own words. Admiring their own eloquence. A form of narcissism, you could say? So we'll keep him talking. That'll make it hard for him to think about anything else."
Self-justification through role-playing would only heat up the more it was encouraged. In the meantime, Winter had to drive down to the 4th deck. A measure to minimize the opponent's time to react.
Walking the quiet corridor, Winter mulled over the negotiation that had just taken place.
[No, no. There's a hero on this ship right now, so I can't get out alive. Even if I do, all that's waiting is a death sentence in some noble courtroom.]
The Governor didn't believe the promise to let him live.
[Don't you get it, Joanna Gibson? Han Gyeowol, Lieutenant, is there. If he weren't, I might have some hope. But the moment the Lieutenant boarded this ship, I became the villain in a hero's tale. The public loves clashes of good versus evil. And that clash naturally ends with the villain's defeat.]
What he pointed out were all the propaganda broadcasts sent out to the world so far. The tragedy of the April Pacific would be added to them, as predicted by this logically insane man.
[So your promise is meaningless. There are forces far higher up than you demanding a sacrificial offering. Oh, citizens of America! Behold this villain burning brightly! And remind yourselves that you are different from this villain!... Ah, yes. Order is built on someone's corpse. Just like I built order on this ship. The worst order is better than the best chaos.]
A boy hero slays a man-eating monster in the lonely sea and restores justice. Wasn't this the Odyssey of the 21st century? The murderer ranted on like that. The original tale he referenced was Odysseus encountering the Cyclops. Similar, if you stretched it. The one-eyed giants of Sicily herded sheep and devoured humans.
Arguing back was pointless once the murderer was lost in his own delusion.
So the investigator steered the negotiation into a battle of egos.
"It seems there's another reason behind his recklessness. I don't know what it is exactly... but we can use it anyway."
That was what Joanna Gibson had said.
Winter reached the intermediate stop. The management office on the 6th deck. The door, marked "Authorized Personnel Only," stood open. Inside was a maintenance vertical shaft. It wasn't on the guide map, but confirmed via CCTV. It should go down to the 5th deck. The FBI agent's voice came through the speaker.
-Enter. There's nothing inside the door.
She was dealing with the madman while simultaneously monitoring Winter's movements.
-5, 4, 3, 2, 1. Bulkheads sealed. You don't need to worry about the rear now. No special variants in sight that could breach them. Multiple variants confirmed in the management office. At the 5-meter mark to the left from the fork straight ahead, six standard variants. Deeper in, out of sight, more than twenty additional variants confirmed. Expect contact with the follow-up group within max 20 seconds after first engagement. Prepare for sustained combat.
A device originally meant for onboard announcements was now relaying orders. The remotely controllable bulkheads from the bridge helped too. Every time the measured voice echoed, the variants screeched in response. Twisting their heads, clack-clack-clack.
Two-way communication was impossible. She and Winter were too far apart. Radios were dead. If Winter absolutely needed to relay something, he'd have to find an interphone in each section or use writing and gestures in front of the cameras.
No need for that yet. The agent was even handling noise-making duties. Impressive skills.
-One juvenile mixed in. Exercise caution during engagement.
Meaning adjust height for vital shots. A note for flat-plane approaches.
Winter scanned the ceiling. Unidentified pipes crisscrossed messily above the fluorescent lights. Could they support his weight?
Only one way to find out. He alternated kicks off both walls to climb 3 meters. Minimizing impact as he hung. No sound so far. Fine metal dust trickled from the fixtures. Even on a luxury cruise, places untouched by foot or eye get neglected. Still, it held firm.
'Surprising. My weight's over 0.1 tons right now.'
Bulletproof vest, plates, auxiliary firearms, bombs, ammo backpack, and more. The cumulative load was murderous. Even for Winter, beyond human limits, it was burdensome.
Hanging, he tested by swinging his legs. The fixture groaned lowly. Worth a shot. Winter released his grip. Whoosh. Near-silent landing.
But the infected had already heard the metal groan and were sniffing around, approaching. Dragging footsteps from the corner. Bare feet and not-bare mixed. Winter readied for close-range fire. Greatsword in one hand, pistol in the other.
Three, two, one. Crunch! He stabbed the first one in the jaw from below. Blood sprayed. Five more behind it. They spotted Winter and screamed. As they lunged, he targeted the moment they tangled and lost balance, kicking the dead one into their knees.
Crash.
'Max 20 seconds. 19, 18, 17....'
The agent's estimate would be accurate. Winter hosed the domino-falling group with his pistol. Bang-bang-bang-bang! Four shots punched holes in four skulls. 16, 15, 14.
Only the juvenile survived. As it struggled up, Winter swung the greatsword high. Slicing both small eyeballs horizontally. Slash! Blood splattered the wall. 13, 12.
He baited the charging one. Deliberate noisy footsteps. Thud-thud-thud. The blinded juvenile crashed and tumbled after him. 11, 10, 9. Tears of blood everywhere. Winter opened a passed door and, like practice, leaped to the pipes overhead.
The juvenile passed below, thinking Winter was ahead.
A few seconds later, sooner than Gibson predicted by 2 seconds, the savage horde swept the narrow passage. Chasing the juvenile's bloody wail. Rumble-rumble. Winter dropped after, shut the door. Click. Locked. The ones that left wouldn't return.
-Well done. No threats to the vertical shaft now. Proceed.
An order echoing only in Winter's section.
'I thought broadcasting to collapse them would work too...'
Collapsing them meant undermining the Governor's forces. CCTV was scarce inside the Grand Galley, and much of it destroyed. Makes sense for a ship of warring factions; smash cameras to evade surveillance. Especially decks 3, 4, 5—severe damage. Over half the areas blind.
But they couldn't block broadcasts. Announcements from just outside the galley would carry inside.
The best way to topple authority is with authority itself. That was Winter's thinking. Once they knew the U.S. military was here, infighting was inevitable.
The agent rejected the proposal. Safety of potential hostages, however slim. Mass murder. Evidence overflowed, but their mental states were surely gone.
Plus, uncertain how the Governor would act without control. He might still have followers.
Her point was valid.
Screee? Something small burst from the vent. Blurry shape. Winter smashed it with his fist. Pow! It spun ragdoll-like. Shattered teeth rained down.
The fallen one didn't move. Size-wise, a fetal mutant. But completely unlike the black ones from Atascadero. Half its face pulped by the punch. Dead from concussion, probably.
White smoke rose from the fluid-smeared glove. Winter grimaced and flung it off. Synthetic leather bubbled and warped. Liquefying.
Boiling sounds from the corpse too. As he backed away quickly, the skin split, yellow pus blisters swelling in the cracks. Seconds later, pop! Burst. Contents sprayed everywhere. Coated floor held; metal reacted visibly. Smoke from wall pipes.
Acidic explosion. What the hell. Clang-clang. Noisy approach from inside the vent. Winter climbed the pipes, fired pistol into the vent. Bang-bang-bang-bang! Muzzle flash lit the dark. Momentarily revealed: a line of wriggling masses.
'Explodes after death?'
No direct hits. Keep distance post-kill. New mutant intel noted.
Crouched and waiting, Winter listened after the pops. Swish, swish. Squeak-squeak. Rear sounded like labored sobs. No need to see: dragging a battered body.
Shone light inside. Harsh beam wrinkled the elderly-faced horror even more grotesquely. Melting real-time as it crawled. Proof same types harmed each other in acid blasts. Screee. Died before arrival, twitching. Another small one swelled. Winter counted mentally and dodged.
Pop! 3 seconds from death to boom. Like grenade fuze. Winter checked last: fluid splash radius.
If these landed ashore? Navy policy had other reasons. Suspicion confirmed, now certainty.
Why is everything so different? Winter felt daunted by the ever-evolving world. Suppressed stress suddenly surged.
This world was Winter's last real shot. Restart possible, sure. But viewers would bail, debt impossible. Only deferred doom left.
Winter had no will to live for himself. But confessing that and saying goodbye made the one rose in his life cry. If you vanish, I'll wither too. Selfish, but stay for me.
The sole reason to gather starlight, despite disliking afterlife existence.
Roses have thorns. Clinging to the rose meant pain. That's the life Winter must prolong, unwanted. Though he considered himself already dead.
Thus, Winter's world progression teetered precariously. Knowing it's the last chance, yet no risk avoidance. Often tempted to abandon all. Better preserve the heart. Even if everything's lost, choices from the heart are mine, right?
Contradictory. But Winter's best.
Beep-beep-
Nearby interphone chirped faintly. Overseer Gibson calling. She'd seen it too. Answered, she checked welfare. Winter calmed quickly. Acting habit helped, good and bad. All clear, then requested:
"Don't tell the Navy yet. Worried they'll order unconditional withdrawal. Even if I won't obey."
[You sure?]
"Be careful, that's all."
[Something bothers me.]
Winter waited a bit. Open line leaked feverish ranting. Maniac still talkative. Gibson humored appropriately, then switched back.
[That bastard said something odd. Huge obstacle between us. Wouldn't elaborate, but context suggests special variants. Monument to sin for human survival or something... Worrying. Maybe partial cause of his recklessness... Hope it's no worse than what we've seen...]
"Noted. Anything else?"
[Um... Lieutenant.]
Hesitant, she voiced the hard part.
[Withdraw now?]
"Why say that? Too far to turn back."
[Frankly. Hostages probably exist, but can't confirm. Risking someone like you on that uncertainty... Harsh, but bad cost-benefit.]
"Cost-benefit?"
[I was overseer and commander. Had to view people as resources. Duty to save as many subordinates as possible meant sacrificing few for many. Abandoned unrelateds for a few sometimes. Wanted to bash my head.]
Long silence. Next words after a minute.
[Can't count lives in numbers, weigh importance. I know you think that. Analyzed your file pre-op. But Lieutenant, San Francisco mission outweighs rescue here.]
More silence.
[Nuke might hit mainland. For greater mission, time to pull back? Losing you here burdens Navy helpers with guilt. Hard for me too, as person before overseer. Many pin hopes on you. Please, reconsider once.]
"......"
Winter tilted his head.
============================ Author's Note ============================
#Q&A
Q. Guaaaaak : @What happens if you eat infected meat? Get infected too?
A. No infection... haha. Don't ask more.
Q. Xedrions : @What's the meaning of Jaka's name?
A. River in Russia. Suspected meteor fall in basin. Search Tunguska event.
Q. Kaif : @What % of your innocence is active now, author?
A. Hm... uh... 30%?
Q. PAM : @World where anything can happen is apocalypse. Understand, even if not empathize. 2 chapters/day doubles love both ways, win-win. Why not?
A. Want to... if possible, great for author. Revenue near quadruple now... But incompetent author can't. Tears...
Q. AntiChrist : @Ah! Overflowing innocence!!!! Want to nom nom author's brain that thinks this up.
A. Detachable brain, nom-able. But mine. No sharing.
Q. BlackRain66 : @Afterword mentions dream, reminds me. Dreamed passing messy book house, saw Ossuary vol 17. Premonition? 17+ vols?! Excited.
A. 17 vols... hmm... impossible? ...or not...
Authors always fail volume predictions. Hard to answer. Haha.
Q. BlackRain66 : @[email] Planned read at 20 chaps, read at 4... missed you, wanted ask post notice if multi-platform. Others message ok, you alone "withdrawn/nonexistent." Hiding with innocence? (Seriously, author search Tunguska ok, messaging fails. Thought Joara blocking fans urging multi-platform for protection lol) Cheers!!
A. Direct multi-platform notice tough...
Readers still message plenty. "Withdrawn"? Weird.