Chapter 85
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 85
Chapter Title: Lakeside Night (4)
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The night deepened, and the temperature dropped. Fat raindrops began to mix with snowflakes. Sharp, gritty sleet that melted on contact. It kept sticking to the lens, insisting on being snow. Winter debated taking off his night-vision goggles. But all around were black mountains. Even if the boy's eyesight was exceptional, the naked eye had its limits.
In the cold wind, his breath came out white. The boy's ragged breathing was due to the prolonged run. Even at a light jog, they'd been going for nearly half an hour already. Fortunately, the rugged mountain road section wasn't too long, so he'd see the end before another half hour passed.
The downpour was a disaster even for non-humans. The corpse bobbing in a roadside puddle, tossed by the ripples, wasn't human. It was a ghoul with flesh bloated white. Winter decided to approach and inspect it. He needed intel, and it was a chance to catch his breath. He signaled the vehicles to halt and cautiously waded into the pooled water.
Splash, splash.
Off the road, the ground was slick underfoot. Mud. The water rose to his waist. The current was negligible, but two streams colliding in a deep depression created a slight whirlpool. Barely enough suction to knock a person over. Winter tilted his head once and swapped weapons. For close-quarters combat, a pistol was preferable.
He pressed the muzzle to the ghoul's skull and prodded it cautiously with his free hand. No movement. Really dead? This time, Winter smashed down hard with the pistol grip. Thwack! Enough force to split the occipital bone. The floating head sank below the surface, then bobbed back up with buoyancy.
Splutter!
The gray monster convulsed like it was seizing. It thrashed its arms, slapping the water wildly. Winter stepped back a few paces and raised a hand to halt the soldiers' fire.
It looked like a drowning person. Panicked folks could die in shallow water. Unlike most animals, swimming was a trained skill for humans. Without proper breathing technique, you couldn't even float. The same went for whatever had made a human its host.
'Probably slipped, couldn't get back up. On the brink of death, it shut down its bodily functions.'
Infected variants could induce a coma-like state in themselves. Muscles stiffened, breathing nearly ceased. Then, upon external stimuli—touch, sight, sound, smell—they'd react violently, just like now.
He'd first seen it in the variants trapped in Atascadero State Hospital in this world. It was originally a way to conserve energy. But it could also serve as a means to ration oxygen.
Of course, as far as Winter knew, it wasn't permanent. Oxygen consumption decreased, but didn't vanish. Left alone, this ghoul would have died eventually.
Spotting Winter amid its flailing, the ghoul writhed ferociously. Teeth clacking, it swallowed more and more water. Observing the pitiful struggles closely, Winter confirmed once more, based on experience, that variants couldn't swim for the time being.
Winter pumped two rounds into the ghoul's head. The gunfire was swallowed by thunder. Thin blood trickled from the perforated cranium, and the ashen body went limp.
Another officer waited for the boy officer emerging onto dry land. Jeffrey asked,
"What was that? Looked like a dead one coming back to life."
"Jeffrey, remember the ones in the hospital rooms at Atascadero?"
"Oh... So it's the same as those. Damn. Thanks for the show. Guess I'll have to double-check drowned corpses from now on. Wouldn't want to poke one and end up dog food."
"Exactly. We should broadcast that warning to the other bases. Especially San Diego North Island."
Jeffrey, who had taken the experiment lightly, stiffened at the last remark. Even if he seemed cavalier, Jeffrey was a properly trained U.S. officer.
"You're quick to connect the dots like that. Respect, Lieutenant."
San Diego North Island, the last military outpost on the North American West Coast, was conducting defensive operations using the bay as a natural barrier. They'd firmly believed variants couldn't cross water. Same for the U.S. citizens who'd fled to ships.
But if half-dead things floated across, and someone foolishly touched one? Instant pandemonium. The sea refugees lived with hulls pressed together. If infection started, it'd spread as fast as on land.
Jeffrey looked deeply troubled by the realization. Winter reassured him.
"Don't worry too much. We've already confirmed variants fear water. It won't be long before they figure out how to exploit this deliberately, but there's still time."
"It's pouring like this. Wouldn't be weird if a few idiot variant bastards fell in and floated off. Scary to think an accident's already happened..."
"We can't control everything. Someone else might've warned them already."
In a world where everyone alive wary of variants, it wouldn't be odd if someone else realized it first. The Department of Defense paid people for that.
Winter shoved Jeffrey along.
"Alright, enough time-wasting. Let's move."
The delay stayed within estimates. Before another half hour, Winter reached the intersection where the mountain road met the two-lane highway. From here, he no longer needed to lead. They'd run in the rain for nearly an hour.
Winter unclipped the winch hook from his belt. Seeing the boy officer return, two soldiers let out heavy sighs of relief. The sergeant gripping the turret urged him to rest.
"You've done enough, sir. Take a break now."
"Break? We're in the middle of an op, and I'm the commander. Get down from the gunner's seat. No real difference between sitting there and inside, right?"
"Lieutenant. I wouldn't call this Humvee a hotel even as a joke, but someone who's run an hour in the rain deserves to rest a bit more comfortably and warmly. At least grab a meal inside. The other vehicles ate in shifts while you were running."
Come to think of it, dinner was overdue. Jeffrey must've handled meals as platoon leader. Even without orders, the soldiers would've eaten anyway.
Winter hesitated briefly, then agreed. The soldiers' senses weren't as sharp as his, but being inside wouldn't dull them much.
"Fine, you're in charge for a bit."
The sergeant sighed again.
"You can keep handing it off. Please just stay put in there longer."
The driver chimed in.
"Never thought I'd see enlisted sitting while an officer runs. Four years in service, first time for everything. Man, you really feel the world's ending."
Winter offered a quiet smile, sensing that's what the soldier wanted.
The vehicle hummed along steadily, without jolts. Just a two-lane highway, but well-built as befitted one. Must've been maintained right up until the disaster hit the West Coast.
Made eating inside easy, at least. No spilling water while transferring it.
The FSR combat ration from Atascadero State Hospital lobby had been simplified. What Winter tore into now was standard MRE: Meal, Ready-to-Eat. The driver side-eyed him dismantling the packaging on his lap and remarked,
"Tastes like crap, but eat up like it's good."
"...I'll try."
Winter's pause wasn't from empathy. Every time he heard MREs sucked, the boy always thought the same thing once.
'Sure, it's not great, but "Massive Rectal Explosion"? That's harsh.'
Still better than the energy gels he'd eaten a lot in life. He truly hated their artificial flavors and chemical aftertaste. Thanks to his sister Han Ga-eul's efforts, he occasionally tasted real cooking. Without her extra care, Winter would've grown up ignorant of food's joys. Their family couldn't even afford a standard VR account.
'Or maybe not. Parents might've had one I didn't know about.'
Lost in thought briefly. Winter felt he was wasting time. Pointless reminiscing, pointless regret. No need to weigh down an already heavy stone.
He focused on eating.
The MRE included a flameless ration heater. Add a bit of water, and it heated up fast. Warm various foods and drinks with it. Easy to burn yourself, but Winter's eyes stayed mostly forward even as he worked.
He tore open the cheese spread warmed by the heater. A nutty aroma wafted out with semi-liquid cheese oozing forth. He smeared some on a cracker, waited for moisture and fat to soak in, then took a bite.
Tasty. Winter smiled faintly, genuinely. The salt was tongue-numbingly intense, a drawback, but in this cold, a hot meal scored high.
The chicken stew had strong artificial notes. He disliked that. Still, the breast meat's near-real texture satisfied. Chewing a few times, rolling it on his tongue, the fibers parted, soaked in broth. The bland sweetness of the hot beverage clung nicely.
"You eating like it actually tastes good?"
The driver asked, incredulous. Winter replied,
"Yeah. Good thing Jeffrey's not here."
The two soldiers stifled untimely laughs. Seemed Jeffrey had ruined meals for many with his shit-talk.
Static crackled from the radio, followed by garbled voices. Overlapping, nonsensical. A pattern Winter knew well. The soldiers held their breath. Tension rose. Winter spoke calmly, reassuringly.
"Ignore it. Signal strength says it's far off. Probably west, Santa Margarita area. They've scouted around here by now—nothing nearby. No point coming out in this weather. Tell the rear vehicles to disregard too."
The gunner signaled as ordered.
The noise and gibberish persisted briefly, then cut off as the convoy left the highway southbound. Terrain blocked it. A 1,200-meter peak.
Winter finished eating and unfolded the map. Even with Map Reading enhancement, his Memorization was low—better check often. The boy nodded.
"Almost there. No more rough sections. Eleven klicks ahead."
The soldier glanced at the map and asked,
"Straight flatland, no obstacles. Speed up?"
"Yeah."
The driver eased on the gas, guiding trailing vehicles to keep pace without panic.
But the sprint didn't last. At the riverbank, the convoy slowed. No bridge where one should be. Just raging waters. Width over 30 meters. Tactical map marked it a long-dried arroyo. Burrito Creek—appetizing name, deceptive reality.
The bridge might be submerged. No way to check.
'And with this current, even if it is, it's risky.'
Submerged structures' integrity was unreliable.
What now. Winter stood with feet shallowly in the water, pondering how to cross.
============================ Author's Note ============================
#Q&A
Q. From Cheongryu Ryeon: @Thanks for another great chapter today. Binge-reading after upvoting as always. Your novels are always full of dreams, hope, and innocence—love it. Currently bingeing "I'll Reset Humanity," but reading yours makes it feel like a sweet romance novel. Also, writer-nim, have you read Magic & Dragon or Mahanaraka? Ten-year-old novels, but still ones I reread often. Super charming, especially Mahanaraka's finale note... Magic & Dragon finished here, Mahanaraka on Munpia. Recommending to you!
A. I'll check them out when I have time. Or take a break from serializing to make some... Nah, no. Haha. Just kidding.
Q. From Dohwawon: @Do those stiff, hardcore BJ denture folks usually play as Swordmasters?
A. Mostly, yeah.
Q. From Ghozt: @Would love a game intro or gallery chat overflowing with dreams, hope, and innocence right about now.
A. Even counting this chapter, it was just three chapters ago. Too soon for another, right?
Q. From Horyeong Candy: Is it because you're so full of innocence, writer-nim? Seeing your KakaoTalk makes you seem adorable. Great work as always. Winter's still so capable and cute. Soldiers fretting over him. These recent chapters have been chill, so bloody action coming soon?
A. Hard to pinpoint exactly, but blood and guts are components of innocence.
Q. From Sexgal: ㅆㅅㅌㅊ Zombie novel—around chapter 300, fantasy and wuxia show up?
A. Nope. Nothing like that.
Q. From 14C2A58H2: Seeing today's note, is it that the protagonist predicted variants evolving to act strategically (or could), based on that?
A. Variants directly interacting with Winter can be influenced by his TOM reading results. And TOM readings differ from conscious predictions.