Chapter 18
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 18
Chapter Title: High Risk, High Return, Paso Robles (5)
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The number of people was small compared to the size of the gymnasium. About twenty students, plus adults making a total of thirty-four. Three of them were armed. Two with shotguns, one with a pistol. They poked their muzzles and faces out from behind the barricade. They looked happy to see Winter, but grew confused upon spotting the group. It was the difference in attire.
Click. The door locked behind them. Winter had removed his gas mask but kept his pistol gripped just in case. Ignoring that, a plump white woman pulled him into a tight hug without hesitation. She was the one who had opened the door.
"Thank you so much for coming. We were all losing hope and growing exhausted."
"No need to thank us. Your name is...?"
"I'm Amalia Flemmens. Feel free to call me Amalia. I'm the student issues coordinator at Daniel Lewis Public Middle School."
The "student issues" she referred to meant the foster youth program—child protection counseling and management. She was the school's point person for orphans, adoptees, homeless students, and those from broken homes.
"I'm Han Gyeowol. It's hard to pronounce, so just call me Han."
Winter spoke mildly as he gently pushed her away.
Among the onlookers were the armed men. One of them asked suspiciously.
"You all of you?"
"For now, yes. Until additional troops arrive from Camp Roberts tomorrow."
Ooh! Cheers erupted. But the questioner still looked unconvinced.
"How can we trust a kid's word? You've got unit patches, but no rank insignia, and the people with you don't even look like U.S. military."
"To be honest, we're refugee volunteers. Korean nationals. I'm a raw recruit from wartime enlistment myself, so I don't have an official rank yet."
"What? Refugees? Then you're nobodies?"
Grumbling arose. A skinny man reacted irritably, true to his gaunt appearance.
The group's expressions soured too. Conversational English was tough, but they could understand it. They caught the short insult just fine. Winter gestured to calm them. Many in the gymnasium looked taken aback by the man's words too.
Winter instructed Jinseok and Jejung to set down the supplies. Amid focused attention, he untied the knots and kicked them over. Crash. They spilled out. The watching eyes changed in an instant.
"If we're nobodies, what do you make of the food we brought?"
"Uh..."
There were still plenty of cans left, even after the group had eaten some. Enough for another round.
Tension hung in the air. Hungry people. It had been a long time since they'd eaten properly. A few rushed forward greedily but stopped. Winter had raised his pistol hand and spread his other palm to block them.
"We brought it to give away anyway, but I need an apology first. From him, directly."
The skinny man's face twisted. But he couldn't hold out long against the silent pressure. Eyes full of wordless reproach. He'd been in the wrong from the start. Winter had just added weight.
"Sor... sorry."
An insincere apology. The man turned away gruffly. People glanced at the boy. Was that enough? The boy demanded no more.
"Sorry for the inconvenience. Now, everyone line up? We don't want anyone getting hurt in a rush."
It was inconvenient having to repeat everything in English and Korean. The group needed to hear it too.
He left distribution to Yura. A woman's softer image would help, after all. But he placed Jinseok behind her. With his temperament, his agitation made him perfect. He gave the impression of control from their side. People swallowed hard but let the students line up first. Proof they weren't desperate enough to lose all reason.
"Any spoons or forks by chance?"
There were spoons, but not enough. They'd been washing and reusing them. When a student hesitantly asked, Winter made an apologetic face.
"Didn't prepare that far. For now, fold the lids into spoons. Be careful not to cut yourselves."
Thin aluminum folded easily into shape. Narrow the handle part, and it made a passable spoon substitute. People who'd hesitated to eat with their hands started digging in properly.
"Looks like you all haven't been totally starving."
Winter addressed a middle-aged white man. He had a sturdy build. The man, old enough for gray in his hair, was still in a suit despite the dirt. Even wearing a tie. Winter thought: Stuffy and proper personality. The slow eating confirmed his guess.
The man adjusted his glasses and nodded.
"Ah... We had canned goods and processed meats from the cafeteria. Lost a few getting them... Amalia's wisely stockpiled vitamin supplements helped too. But we were down to almost nothing, so we'd cut portions a few days ago... You're a godsend. One more day, and you'd have seen us fighting each other."
"I see..."
"Belated introduction. I'm Stuart Hamill, the principal here."
"You're the principal. As you know, I'm Han Gyeowol. In Korea, we put family name first, so Han's the family name, Gyeowol the given."
"Gyeowol... Tough to pronounce indeed. I see why you prefer Mr. Han."
The principal chuckled, then grew more serious.
"If it's not rude, how old are you?"
In American culture, you didn't ask age lightly. It was about treating everyone as an individual regardless of age. Cross-generational friendships were common. But the principal had reason to ask.
"As an educator, it bothers me. You look no older than my students, yet you're fighting with weapons..."
"Like a child soldier?"
"...Yes."
To an educator, child soldiers were an unacceptable atrocity.
Easy to dismiss as unrelated to Korea. But until 2005, Korea had wartime student mobilization plans too. Under the Ministry of Education, not Defense. Official name: "Wartime Student National Defense Corps Operation Plan." Teachers as company commanders, "upstanding students" as platoon leaders, turning schools into armies as-is.
Winter answered.
"Seventeen."
"Good lord..."
The principal was shocked.
"In a world like this, what choice is there?"
More sincerity than pretense this time. The principal shook his head.
"In any world, minors deserve protection, Mr. Han. Risking life in combat is brutal even for adults. For minors, it's an indelible scar. And the people with you seem to follow your lead?"
"Again, survival comes first now. They follow not my age, but my ability—what I can do, what I will do."
"That's wrong. You said 'what one can do'? Apply that to murder. Can one kill? Those who judge by that alone end up dictators or butchers. The path to justice isn't separate. Justice is the path."
He must be hungry. Yet the principal ranted, forgetting his meal. A good man. But not one to view favorably. Principal Hamill wouldn't fully accept a minor's leadership, a disadvantage Winter had to bear as a youth.
Yet he showed none of it, just smiled and said:
"Thanks for the good advice. But no choice. If I hadn't taken up arms, more would have died or been hurt. Including me."
"..."
Principal Stuart Hamill sighed deeply. Winter gestured.
"Finish eating. Then I've got questions."
No empty words. Winter gathered the principal and others, spread a map. Preparing info for the next trip. Asked locations of pharmacies, gun shops, grocery stores, private warehouses, marking them in order. Hard to get from air recon. Best from local libraries, offices, residents.
Winter acquired "Memorization." System-enhanced memory scaled with intellect and related skills. Separate from player's own. Character memory like storage. Recall anytime, responds to conscious/subconscious, links to "Insight."
Useful, not essential. So he'd saved EXP. Rank 2. Still better than nothing.
Night fell quickly. Lights used carefully, no leaks outside. Mutants swarm to light like bugs. Early disaster radio broadcasts helped here. U.S. had solid emergency systems.
Winter slowly observed the gymnasium folk.
They lived in tents pitched inside. Self-supporting frames, no stakes needed. Fit thirty-four somehow. In times like these, not everyone slept at once—watch shifts—so fewer needed.
Water from still-running tap, not potable raw. But survivalist nation, one had portable purifier. Pump type, 1 liter per minute, high-end. Owner boasted one filter lasts 50,000 liters, solo use 12,500 days.
They handled waste and sewage decently. Near the scoreboard with round window—broke one lattice pane, not opening type. Dumped waste there. Normally sealed with plastic and tape. Source of the smell Winter caught entering.
People clung to pre-collapse routines. Few hit bunks early just 'cause dark and idle. They swarmed the group, curious about Camp Roberts. The others, sans Winter, looked awkward. Couldn't converse in English. Plus, spilling refugee truth was embarrassing.
Winter understood not wanting to seem weak.
Still, the boy was frank.
"Camp doesn't mean it's great. Much better than here, sure."
Word would spread on safe return anyway. Amalia the teacher raised her hand.
"How many people?"
"Lots. Tons. Mostly refugees. East Asians most, then Oceania. Some U.S. citizens joined post-California outbreak."
"More specifics?"
"Short on food, winter gear. So refugee volunteers like us procure with U.S. military. Citizens prioritized, so refugees struggle for fair shares."
As expected, some eyes changed. Starting to look down. Few, but likely had "Racial Discrimination" trait from the start. In early "Day after Apocalypse," Winter had raged at such folk. Even at AI.
Now, old stones might rumble inside, but he kept it in. Familiarity.
Not that he just endured. If virtual reality held any draw, it was not holding back anger. Boy had endured too much. Even if opponent looked human only on surface, it mattered to him.
Winter pinpointed one smirking.
"You in the hat. Proper or not, is sneering at helpers okay?"
"W-what'd I do! Misunderstanding!"
"Hope so."
Hadn't holstered pistol since entering. Tapped slide with trigger finger off. Man grimaced, retreated to his tent.
Even uncalled out scattered in fear. People dispersed quickly.
Warning crowds dulled effect. Crowds gain strength from numbers alone. Lesson from multi-runs.
============================ Author's Notes ============================
1. Reserve training tomorrow, so posting early.
2. Weekday updates 3-5 times. Weekends for Sealbreaker, not rest.
3. All locations and names real. Travel distances actual. Will compile for blog someday.
4. Thanks to those pointing out errors.