Chapter 129
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 129
Chapter Title: #Golden Gate (2)
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Not everything can always go perfectly. But as "Day after Apocalypse" repeated, fatal failures became rare, and Winter had grown accustomed to that.
By surpassing human limits, one overcomes situations that were once insurmountable. It was a pleasure he hadn't anticipated in his previous life. Back when he didn't even know what he truly wanted. It was from the time he struggled not to hate the world, and now, after time had passed, it had become almost habitual.
That's why April Pacific felt so sticky. A tar-like disappointment. It had been a long time since he'd faced a failure this big.
Joanna gave a wry smile.
"Even though we couldn't save everyone, it's not like we came away empty-handed. We confirmed special variants that hadn't been reported before, right? And people we couldn't tell were variants or humans. The samples you collected will be useful to the Public Health Service team. There's political significance here too."
"Political significance?"
"You could call it a safety measure for 'just in case'…… Politicians are always wary of exposures. The current containment strategy has serious issues from a humanitarian perspective. We're even aggressively targeting civilian vessels."
She murmured it like a soliloquy. How many civilians had the Navy sunk by now? It was a question beyond the scope of Intel Correction's inferences. Too much margin for error.
"Ten thousand? A million?…… Or ten million?"
Unreal numbers. But no joke. Even a ship under 10,000 tons could hold over 10,000 if packed deliberately. Sink just ten of those, and that's 100,000.
He recalled the start of this worldline. Machine guns had fired on refugees fleeing Camp Roberts. The background for gathering refugee support troops included mentally exhausted U.S. soldiers. It wasn't just about losing family, as Elliot had said. What impact had massacring unarmed civilians had on their psyches?
Even Carrier Strike Group Commander, Admiral Kitchener, had complained about manpower shortages. There was a connection. Including pilots refusing orders.
"The election is approaching. Politicians are filled with thoughts of tearing each other apart. You've probably never imagined the stories I hear as an intel liaison, Winter. I'm used to it, but I still don't understand. Is regime change more important than humanity's survival?"
She intoned it like a sigh. How differently do those high up think?
"They're living in different worlds. If the worlds you live in are different, your lives are different, and if your lives are different, your thoughts are different, right?"
Winter replied, and Joanna furrowed her brow.
"Different worlds? Not one world on the brink of destruction?"
"Well…… I think a person's world is a collection of the pieces they see and feel. So everyone lives in their own world, don't they? They only become similar to the extent they empathize with each other."
At this point, Winter recalled psychotherapy. Even the same color feels different to each person, doesn't it? He'd said that to the woman posing as a counselor. Color was a symbol. A perspective on the world. People and their essences are separated by senses.
Everyone lives painting the world in their own colors. Empathy is what narrows that gap. It was something he'd felt deeply in his short previous life.
"Hmm, I don't quite get it."
The FBI agent shook her head at the abstract talk. Her vague expression was proof of misunderstanding. There was a cautious air. Like she was trying not to dismiss Winter's words as teenage angst, or at least not show it. Reading it familiarly, Winter let it slide.
The agent brought the conversation back to reality.
"Anyway, that's how it is. All the records from April Pacific will provide justification for the current containment strategy. Plenty of material to convince the public. Especially since you're the star of the show."
Winter mustered a meager smile.
"A hero's tale. Like that guy said."
A boy hero defeats a cannibal monster. The Odyssey of the Pacific.
The agent grimaced.
"……Annoying, but he had a bit of a brain. Winter, let me say it again: forget about what happened. If you call it a failure, the primary responsibility is mine."
"Because you couldn't convince the Governor?"
"No. Because I'm the supervisor."
Joanna nailed it down sternly. Don't forget the decision-making authority was hers. It felt forced, but if she'd opposed to the end, boarding wouldn't have been possible. It would have been blocked at identity verification during comms with destroyer USS Higgins.
"I'll try. But Ann, aren't you bothered at all?"
"You get numb doing this work. Do your best, and if you fail, that's it. You have to know your limits. Aiming beyond them breaks you."
It wasn't a perspective a boy who often lamented his limits could easily accept.
In any case, she'd done her best. The Governor had just been an over-the-top madman.
Winter sank into the tar.
Last night, the path into Grand Galley was blood-soaked. He should have been on guard. The corrupt man and his cohorts must have seen the Governor as an enemy. The reason they couldn't enter was obvious.
Grand Galley had only one entrance each at bow and stern. Wide, but perfect bottlenecks for concentrated firepower. A fan-shaped fire net could easily hold off ten or a hundred times the enemy.
So Winter left the rest to the agent. Making them come out on their own was also a role she'd volunteered for. Skillful rhetoric over the all-call broadcast.
Thus, the citizens of the cannibal republic laid down their arms and walked out. Along with their hoarded final rations.
A "Survival Instinct" warning. Red trajectories filled his vision.
Boom! Kwakwakwang! Shotgun blasts swept through the people.
When the flames and storm subsided, Winter, who had hunkered down, heard humming. He aligned his sights instantly. At the end, one man—now the sole survivor—tossed aside two detonators and wagged his finger.
"Ah, ah, ah, ah. That's not how you do it. Don't rush, Lieutenant. Huh? It's the climax. I'm unarmed now anyway……. More importantly, don't you have questions before killing me?"
Bang! Winter blew off the tip of his finger.
Silence for a long while. The Governor knelt and crumpled. Only tiny choking sounds. Saliva drooling from his mouth. Not crying was a wise reaction.
Far from enough. His goal, right before his eyes after coming this far, was gone. Winter said coolly.
"One unspoken word, one bone at a time. So how many words have you said?"
One, two, three, four, five……. Counting without haggling, Winter approached, trusting Sensory Correction. He was unarmed, as claimed. Combat ability negligible. The two detonators linked to the shotgun mines were all he'd used. Now within kicking distance.
He kicked. Paak! The man with the split forehead tumbled noisily. Blood pooled where he rolled, not just from the severed finger. Shrapnel had turned the floor razor-sharp.
"Ugh, ah, this, ah, ah, hurts, hurts so much."
The Governor made strange noises. Like sobbing or laughing.
"Fing, finger…… Just one finger…… Hurts this much……. See, I wasn't wrong. Wasn't wrong. Hehhehehehe…… Heheheh."
Should he ask? Winter pondered briefly. He hadn't planned to. It felt like playing along with the madman's tune. But this madness was a new type. Virtual personalities were fossils of humanity's past, and here was an unfamiliar vein of insanity.
'No. Even if I ask, it won't be coherent.'
Madness was plentiful even in his previous world anyway. Instead of questions, he chose violence against the non-human. Venting and grudge-settling. Even now, with pleasure faded, it held slight meaning.
The madman struggled to speak until the very end. As if it were more important than survival.
"Winter? Lieutenant Han Gyeowol……? Your coffee's gone cold."
Joanna's deflated voice. Winter snapped back from habitual reverie to reality. The sea breeze persisted, but the half-empty cup held little warmth. The initial aroma was gone. A reproachful gaze from its maker. Winter made a sheepish face.
"Sorry. I said I'd try, but I was too half-hearted."
"Finish it first. No more spacing out."
He had no choice but to obey.
"But this isn't coffee, is it?"
"It is coffee."
The FBI agent said seriously. Winter chuckled dryly once, then sipped the neglected cup again. Temperature changed flavor. Imbalanced sweetness and acrid alcohol clashed unpleasantly. Even to his coarse palate, where combat rations were gourmet, it was tough.
"They say no stage, no people."
Joanna tilted her head at Winter's words.
"That bastard's dying words?"
"Yeah. Precisely, one of them. He babbled all sorts of things. Not sure what it means."
"Fitting for a blockhead full of intellectual vanity."
"Not just that, I think."
"No need to understand. Hiding his name to the end shows what a coward he was. That's self-preservation instinct."
Winter agreed there. From the moment he said his name wouldn't remain in history, no other interpretation fit. The stage talk was the same context.
Joanna said.
"Human sociability is just acting out roles assigned on specific stages. Society has countless layers and facets, and when the stage changes, people adapt quickly. They learn and internalize the roles the stage demands. Thus, people have no essence. Just roles and theater……."
She snorted here.
"It's logic commonly cited—or fabricated—to justify crimes. Even if he was particularly nuts, similar cases abound among intellectual narcissist criminals. The moment they talk stages, you know. Fragile types who can't forgive themselves without grandiose, macro self-rationalizations. Different from impulsive scum. Well, I can say this thanks to years of accumulated profiling."
"Hiding his name means separating his true self from the role?"
"Most likely…… It's impressive you jump to that. You're no ordinary one either, Winter."
To the agent casting a fresh look, Winter offered another clumsy smile.
He felt he understood a bit more of the madness from last night. Roles demanded by the stage. Adjusting oneself to fit wherever you go.
The self demanded at work. At home. Among friends. They clash sometimes.
Now rising in mind: April Pacific's passengers who ate people.
Can people change that easily when the stage shifts?
What about the world out there?
============================ Author's Notes ============================
#KakaoTalk
Tunguska: There's someone rating-bombing on Naver too.
Tunguska: Did the math with an equation when the rater count went up—turns out a few gave 0s.
Tunguska: For example, the 46th rater will dream of me tonight.
Manhwa Friend & Programmer Friend: LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
#Q&A
Q. Master Calsolum: @Purity alone can't survive this polluted world. Collapsed at work, hospitalized, diagnosed with hypertension (198/120), no meat for 2 months—life's drier than chicken breast. Need purer purity to forget this reality...
A. Life without meat... How about gomguk filled with cosmic energy? Can't supply more purity...
Take care of your health. ;ㅅ;
Q. kaley: @Knee-slap from the 40030s lololol Have a purity-filled day today too.
A. Yes, start your day with my purity today.
Q. BlueCrystal: @Author, one thing I wondered from the cover—is Winter just a brain? Is the guy on the cover really Winter??
A. See, both jars have only brains. Think of it as a kind of metaphor, not a literal body.
...Though honestly, even I as the author don't know the exact intent. Hehe.
Q. Guaaaaak: Ooo!! Cover ooo!! Naver's pay-per-ep, here subscription—any contract issues?
A. Editor-in-chief suffered because I promised to stay with Noblesse.
Q. highDE: Whoa.... Binge-reading and purity... purity is overflowing... Is it 'cause it's been ages? Purity overload!!! Does Naver upload as-is without censorship deletions?
A. Everything except ch. 24 went up unchanged. Ch. 24 got some edits... but I tried to convey the content. Rewrote or removed overt expressions and context.