Chapter 186
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 186
Chapter Title: Beneath the Black Water (4)
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“What does it mean to you if I kill Anne?”
[No need to overthink it, Lieutenant. It’s just a proposal to become comrades.]
“Comrades?”
[That’s right, comrades. Honestly, you and I are practically enemies right now, aren’t we? In a situation like this, the surest way to build trust is by sharing secrets. The kind of secrets that absolutely can’t be revealed to the outside world. You already know one of my secrets, so if I learn one of yours, it balances out. That’s what this is about—creating that secret. And we’ll eliminate the witness in the process.]
“…….”
[The scene of you shooting Ms. Gibson will be transmitted via satellite to Langley. Your face is an issue, but we can edit that easily enough…… We’ll attach some appropriate context before and after to use as leverage. It’s good for both of us.]
“I’m not sure. That sounds more like accomplices than comrades.”
Winter immediately contradicted himself.
“No, not accomplices—slaves fits better. Your secret, Team Leader Chadwick, will burn away here, but my sin will linger forever.”
For a boy trying to protect his heart, this was a crossroads with no room for hesitation from the start.
“Want to live? By killing someone you shouldn’t, becoming a puppet with a weakness held over you? No, I don’t want to live like that. I won’t become a Han Gyeowol without Han Gyeowol.”
Winter felt himself teetering on the edge that much more. It had been his limit for a long time. If he slipped even a little, there’d be no turning back. That was why there could be no exceptions in protecting his heart.
[Oh dear. You’re misunderstanding me right now, Lieutenant.]
Chadwick grew even more serious.
[Puppet? I swear on everything I have—it’ll never happen.]
“You’re not asking me to believe that right now, are you?”
[I’m not joking, Lieutenant.]
What followed was an unexpectedly sincere story.
“Why do you think I’m making this proposal? To use you? No. I just want to save you. Because America needs you, and no one else can replace you!]
Like his personality had switched, the twisted patriot confessed his patriotism.
[Regrettably, I learned through countless tortures just how important hope is to people. To the American citizens right now, and to the soldiers on the quarantine frontlines—what kind of hope are you, Lieutenant? And you expect me to kill that hope for all those people with my own hands? Ha, that’s ridiculous.]
“Aren’t the people dying here human?”
[At least they’re not American citizens.]
“You’ve truly lost it.”
[You’re right. I’m not in my right mind.]
Chadwick’s tone shifted once more.
[But a homeland with many enemies needed someone like me. They trained me to become this way. And I volunteered, knowing I’d cease to be human. I’ve never once regretted that decision. On the contrary, I’ve always been proud. Because all my sacrifices were for national security.]
“…….”
[Things the government can’t possibly do, yet must be done anyway. That’s the role of trash like me. Human experimentation is the same. Do you think I don’t know it’s horrific to infect innocent men, women, and children alive, dissect them, shoot them, and dispose of them? I know. Better than anyone, I know it’s no different from what those Nazi bastards did. But to research a disease that only infects humans, isn’t using humans as test subjects the most effective way?]
“…….”
[I swear, I have no intention of taking my sins to the grave. Someday, America’s justice will judge me. The sentence will be death. I’ll gladly pay the price. For my country, even if my soul falls into hellfire. Because I’m the sinner, America will remain honorable.]
Whew. A sigh breathed into the mic from the other end turned into a thick, rumbling noise. That rough texture captured the emotions of a patriot who knew he was mad.
[After I die, my grave will be buried under the trash people throw at it. But I’m not Stalin. I don’t hope the winds of history will sweep it away. For me, Nathan Chadwick, a filthy grave would be my greatest pride.]
His self-absorption had deepened to an unanswerable degree. Winter deemed further conversation pointless.
Chadwick sobbed in a new voice.
[Please, Lieutenant. Don’t let me abandon you. A patriot like you can’t die meaninglessly here. The only death fitting for you is an honorable one in battle.]
It was still mad talk, but unexpectedly, Joanna nodded.
“Winter, look at me.”
She continued in a calm demeanor and steady tone.
“You don’t need to take that bipolar idiot’s bullshit to heart, but one thing’s true. You’re not someone who should die here. People need Lieutenant Han Gyeowol.”
“Anne.”
Winter shook his head with more meaning than words, but the FBI agent’s resolve didn’t waver.
“The full-scale liberation op has essentially failed. Our immediate task now isn’t reclaiming the contaminated zone—it’s safely withdrawing the troops cut off from supplies. A military without ammo is barely better than a civilian mob.”
She was talking about the hope the madman had mentioned.
“I don’t know how many casualties there’ll be going forward. Hundreds would be a miracle, thousands a relief. But the DoD is bracing for tens of thousands at best, or more in the worst case. A lot of people will be devastated. The liberation op gathered that much expectation.”
“I get what you’re trying to say, but…….”
“Please, hear me out.”
Joanna cut off the boy.
“You can’t disappear now, Winter. You’re already a war hero like none before. Even the redneck yokels still flying the Confederate flag in Texas show respect to Lieutenant Han Gyeowol. Your death would create ripples that’d make Werther’s suicide seem trivial. Hell, it might even—low probability, but—tip the scales of the quarantine war.”
Werther’s suicide. Werther was merely the protagonist of Goethe’s novel, yet his suicide sparked countless copycats. So many people had given their hearts to a fictional character, projected themselves onto him, even internalized him as part of themselves.
Human bonds sometimes don’t distinguish between real and fake.
Can a life-risking relationship be called fake?
The madman listened quietly to this conversation from beyond the static.
“When Kurt Cobain died, some FBI agents went on high alert.”
Joanna gave a melancholy smile.
“An individual suicide is mild by comparison. The aimless unrest, crime, terrorism stemming from a celebrity’s death. The sense of loss among citizens that causes it all. That’s an enormous cost the whole society pays. And Winter’s popularity…… Calling it popularity is even inadequate. Your prestige is unrivaled. A mere rock star pales in comparison…… At this point, I can’t even imagine the chaos your death would unleash.”
Whether it would pass without incident or spark total collapse. The future was a realm of undetermined fortune and misfortune, she said.
From Winter’s perspective too, the world didn’t end just because he died. Per the observer personality’s situational calculations, the world would continue toward apocalypse even after his death. Rarely, though he’d never experienced it, worlds without a connector had avoided doom.
Throughout it all, the connector’s contribution was evaluated.
“Kill me, Winter.”
Joanna said calmly.
“What you’re worried about won’t happen. You’re important enough, and the DoD regrets lending you to this op. Meaning you won’t be leaving the quarantine frontlines much anymore.”
“…….”
“The higher your fame grows, the more scrutiny from all agencies. Embarrassing to say, but just like our Bureau and Intel aren’t on good terms, the intel outfits under Homeland Security don’t see each other as allies. The already diminished Intel…… This means environments like internal factions pulling strings won’t happen anymore. Secrets? Go ahead and expose them. The White House itself wouldn’t stay quiet.”
To Winter watching silently, she relaxed her shoulders and gave a soft smile.
“You can go back now.”
“To where?”
“To the people you were forced to leave.”
To the story Winter had built himself.
Those words echoed the melancholic thoughts he’d often harbored, hardening Winter’s expression. It felt like this world was reading the boy’s mind. No way, right? The unseen child couldn’t intervene like this.
“Lieutenant Han Gyeowol. It’s been an honor serving with you.”
The FBI agent bid farewell. With the detachment of one tying up her life without regret.
“Please. Shoot.”
She said, gazing straight at him.
“No need for guilt. This is just an unfortunate accident. So think of it not as you killing me, but me dying for you. Not just for you, Winter, but for all the citizens pinning their hopes on you.”
Clap, clap, clap. Applause echoed from the speaker.
[Gibson. You’re a patriot in the end, too.]
The madman rambled in exhilarated sorrow.
[What a shame. Truly a shame. Why did our paths have to diverge like this? If there was just a way to hedge the risk, I’d save you somehow. Hey, Anne. Any sins weighing on you? Like siphoning drugs at the border, turning a blind eye to illegals for bribes.]
The kind of things common in the Bureau. Joanna’s brow twitched at the madman’s presumptuous nickname, but her response was calm and cold.
“Nothing like that. Unlike some, I haven’t lived a life shitting on my country’s name.”
After that, Joanna silently urged Winter on. She nodded, closed her eyes. Her faintly trembling jaw and shoulders betrayed fear of death, yet she suppressed it with will.
Winter stared silently, then suddenly burst into unfeigned laughter.
“Why act like everything’s decided? Without even hearing me out.”
“……Winter?”
The agent opened her eyes and examined the boy officer. Cautiously. As if sensing the emotion behind the laugh.
Winter heard the hallucination of a stone rolling in his body. He’d held back so much. From virtual personalities he treated as human, to the self-proclaimed counselor he’d visited out of guilt—he’d never unleashed his overflowing emotions on anyone, all to protect himself.
The first breach in the dam was just a single handful of water.
Somehow, he felt tired. The boy tilted his head. Unbeknownst to him, from this trivial trigger, his accumulated fatigue had hit a tipping point. He’d been strung too tight for too long.
[Lieutenant Han Gyeowol. You’re not going to ignore such noble self-sacrifice, are you?]
With feigned irritation, Winter aimed his pistol at the closed-circuit camera. Bang! Shattered glass rained down. The ejected casing rolled across the floor right after.
To Joanna, who urgently tried to speak, Winter slowly shook his head.
“I can’t shoot. Not that I won’t. Don’t ask the impossible of me.”
============================ Author's Note ============================
Q. Carpis: How about hiring @Ada sis as a mercenary?
A. Mixing in the Resident Evil worldview is a bit... haha. Well, their monsters do feel similar to Morgellons infected variants. They've long outgrown plain zombies by now too.