Vermin
I got every piece of the confiscated gear back.
"Don't let them take it off you next time."
Tata, too, was clearly the sort whose hobby was needling people.
With the General out of the way, I'd figured slipping out of the Human Meat Factory would be child's play. One petty obstacle remained: the settlers, and a fervor of support burning like wildfire.
"Emissary! Where are you going!"
"Once a day—no, even once a week would do! Just the rain!"
"Couldn't at least Sister Myeong and Brother Heo stay here?"
I'd expected as much. From the start, I'd already worked out how to peel them off.
"A single settlement cannot house two temples. We must not anger your god, nor the One I serve. Leave this place to the god who was already here. I will visit from time to time, and help you as I can."
That was why I'd claimed to be an emissary of a god, and not a savior. The story sounded absurd, but the effect was certain. If the doctrine said so, then that was how it was.
Tata believed the settlers didn't truly buy any of the talk about saviors and priests. Everyone knew, he'd said, that the machines had been fixed by a Core ability. They were only pretending to be taken in, so as not to sour the mood of a precious ability user who went around declaring himself a savior.
Was that really it?
I could have sworn some of them took him for a savior in the genuinely religious sense. Believing it that way was the greater comfort, and it was thanks to people like that that my little performance had landed.
Still. Since I'm here, I ought to open a line of trade.
Getting out in one piece had been the immediate aim, but things had gone well, and whatever I could pocket, I meant to pocket. Cutting a trade route would be best. If I could take Tata's goods wholesale and sell them on, it would do a great deal for the household accounts.
"You're leaving straightaway, right? Think you'll remember the way out?"
"There was a stretch where they walked me through blindfolded."
"Ah. Then I'll see you off myself."
Good. I'd have to watch for an opening.
"To think Woo Jungkook has actually become a man who lives alongside other people. Live long enough, and you really do see everything."
Dr. Myeong had never met me outside Headquarters. To survive, a person has to know how to use other people—and she'd never had occasion to see me surviving that way.
"Since when did you get so good with people?"
"I am always watching over you."
"Stop it. I have never, in my whole life, seen this many patients in a single day. Unpaid, no less."
"It's called volunteering."
"Keep it up and I'll volunteer you blind."
"Even if I have no eyes, I am always watching over you."
"……I can smoke now, can't I?"
Dr. Myeong glanced over. Tata nodded, though his face said he wasn't pleased. The lighter clicked.
"Haa……. It's only a manner of speaking. I know we're alive because of you."
"I already know you're not going to thank me anyway. How about knocking a little off the bill later?"
"That was the plan. Drop by whenever. Ah—and what's so hard about saying it. Thank you. Sincerely."
At least she took the cigarette from her mouth when she said thank you. That much felt genuine.
"Much obliged, chief."
The problem was this old man. On an ordinary day it ought to have come out hearty. Much obliged, chief!
"Are you very tired?"
"Tired, nothing. Say, you haven't seen my daughter, have you?"
"Dad?"
"……And who might you be, calling me Dad?"
"I've got a cigarette in my mouth, so you won't even treat me like your daughter?"
"Eh……?"
I'd thought Yeongdeungpo wasn't so far, but for an old man short on exercise it must have been too much. Add a kidnapping by monsters, and the stress would have piled up nicely.
"Dad, look this way a second."
"I said, who are you—"
"Mr. Heo, she really is your daughter."
"……When did you get so big?"
Dr. Myeong went over Elder Heo with care, feeling here and there, watching him, tossing out a few questions, and then she settled on a rough answer.
"Mm……. We'd better get back quickly."
She was only minding her words because Elder Heo could hear. The deep crease between her brows said the situation was bad.
"Everyone's busy, aren't they? Shall we walk faster?"
Tata made a show of not caring while he listened to every word, then cut in the moment it seemed called for.
"No. Rush for no reason and his breathing could give out. It isn't normal even now."
"Anything we can do for him on the way?"
"Nothing. Let's just think about getting back fast."
"Why's everyone carrying on? I'm fine, chief."
Definitely not a good situation. And over there, someone whose face was every bit as grim as Dr. Myeong's had appeared.
"Hm. Leaving, are you?"
The General.
"Have to. The air here isn't much. Too many factories, maybe?"
He gave no answer. He simply swept past us with his aides in tow. His influence had waned, but there was no chance he'd leave this place. The uncomfortable cohabitation with Tata would go on.
"How'd that one turn into a war maniac?"
"He went crazy."
"Clear enough."
"And everyone's going crazy, one after another. I figured it was the alien plants, so I even set a fine for anyone but authorized personnel looking at them. They're still losing it, one by one."
Dr. Myeong stayed quiet. No intention of correcting him? Then I might as well.
"That's a false rumor. You can stare at them all day and nothing happens."
"Huh? For real?"
Only then did Dr. Myeong open her mouth.
"Savior. You're the only one who knows the truth, so don't tell the settlers. If they believe nothing goes wrong so long as they don't look at the alien plants, that'll do more for their peace of mind."
So she'd left it uncorrected on purpose.
"Have you decided to live alongside people too?"
"A doctor's judgment, nothing more. Advice doesn't consume resources."
Fair enough.
"Truth is, why everyone's going mad is obvious. We live in a closed settlement. Of course we are."
"Wasn't that a road you chose yourselves?"
"It's not as if we enjoy living this way. We cut every tie to keep the government bastards in check."
"Then you should have gotten along with them. You're practically next door to the Government Complex as it is."
"……Doctor. Does keeping that in your mouth actually make you feel better? Your health is going to take a serious hit."
"Highly recommended!"
"And where did your judgment as a doctor go?"
The lighter clicked. A cough followed.
Dr. Myeong, spending the resource she treasured most on something that gained her nothing. Call up the woman she was inside Headquarters, and it was impossible to picture. She didn't seem to have noticed it herself, but this was what the outside world did to you.
Tata hacked and hacked until his face went red. Only after he'd worked out how not to breathe the smoke did his words come loose.
"Those bastards wanted the railgun."
Right on cue, the railgun came into view.
"Those bastards?"
"The government bastards."
So this was how the two sides had come to be at odds.
"It was before I came here. They said Railgun No. 1 was state property and demanded it back."
"They're not wrong."
"Pick it apart, and sure. Anyway, these are people who decided they'd rather become non-citizens than accept that."
"Telling them to hand over the railgun. That's a steep demand."
It was as good as telling them to die.
"It wasn't simply 'hand it over.' In exchange, they said the Complex itself would shoot down the air raids that fell on this place. Said it was possible, because they were close."
"They'd protect you? And how were you meant to believe that?"
"We didn't, obviously. The result is what you see."
Keep the railgun, and you're isolated. Give up the railgun, and your survival is under threat. Rotten terms either way, but they'd chosen the road that wouldn't kill them today.
"Come to think of it, you're a civil servant. You could speak for the Complex, couldn't you?"
"I have absolutely no desire to."
"I thought it was strange, see. The Complex already has thirteen railguns crammed in tight. Why try to take this one as well?"
The railguns are the structure that stands for the Complex. Safety from the air raids is treated like some privilege belonging to Headquarters.
"Maybe they simply didn't like a settlement that had enjoyed a railgun's blessing loitering right in front of their eyes."
"Could be. But, hmm……."
"Is there some other reason?"
"The General was the one who negotiated with the government right up to the end, back then. It's something he said, so I'm not sure I ought to swallow the whole of it, but—"
Hard to trust. Fair enough.
"He said it looked as if there were some special reason they absolutely had to recover No. 1."
"A special reason?"
"I didn't much care at the time. By the time I got curious later, we'd already grown distant. And now, well. I can't even get a word in with him."
"Hearing all of this, one thing is certain."
"What?"
"This place is going to remain a closed settlement forever."
Tata's bitter smile.
"Suppose so. That's why I went and made a prophecy that a new savior would appear someday."
"Hope as torture, then."
"Leave the torture out, would you? I was doing my best, in my own way."
"Tin Can says it wasn't a prophecy. He called it a reasonable inference."
"There are definitely people who want a closed settlement. People like me."
Come to think of it, Tata had said he only arrived here after the Human Meat Factory was already shut off from the world.
"What was here that made you come?"
"The opposite. I came because of what isn't here. I ran."
Sounded like there was a story behind it, but the air didn't suggest he'd tell it in any detail. No need to know, either. What I wanted to hear was something else.
"Since the railgun came up—how do you know an air raid is coming in time to shoot it down?"
"Oh, that? Nothing special. There's an insider at the post office who radios us the air-raid intel. This place is close to the Complex, so the radio gets through fine."
Simple, and certain. Even a closed settlement might have left itself a breathing hole or two. Aside from this place, everything around the Complex had been swept clean. There probably wasn't another settlement that could radio the Complex in comfort the way this one could.
"Why burn only half a cigarette and throw it away? Don't go wasting it."
"Never mind that. Dad, do you see this? How many?"
"One."
"……Really? Look properly. That's two fingers."
"You ought to have asked proper. It's one hand."
"Fingers!"
"Two."
From behind, they really did look like father and daughter.
"Ah, since the insider came up. As it happens, contact's been cut off since yesterday."
"Hm?"
"It's not as if we have to talk every single day, but we usually trade a short message daily, just to check the line's still good. No answer since yesterday."
"Must be busy with something."
"Right. There have been times they went quiet for a few days and then got back in touch……. But after hearing you, I wondered if it had something to do with Headquarters driving out the office staff."
The timing was uncanny.
"If it isn't a postman, but someone who works in the office, then it's possible."
"So it is that……. If something happens to that person, we're in real trouble."
"But the post office shouldn't have been committed to the operation yet. And if it started yesterday, that would have been before the order even came down."
Tata, who had been talking easily enough, suddenly hesitated. Something he wasn't supposed to say?
"Well. It's……. The thing is, they're in a fairly high position. I thought perhaps they might have known beforehand."
"How high a position?"
"Even that is a little hard to say."
Whoever it was, it wasn't my business. But I could tell this was an opening.
"Not getting the air-raid intel would be a serious problem, wouldn't it?"
"Every life here hangs on it. Of course I'm worried—"
"What if I solved it for you?"
Tata stopped walking.
"Making it rain didn't so much as make you blink. This is what surprises you?"
"Really? You can help?"
"If the terms are right."
"No, what I mean is—however veteran a postman you are, you can't just receive every piece of air-raid intel that has nothing to do with your missions, can you? That's why I went to someone in a high post."
Tata was right. It wasn't a problem a mere postman could solve. But Director Bae could. Which meant I could too.
"Do you know who I am?"
"Hm? A postman."
I held his gaze and said nothing, and he arrived at the right answer.
"……An emissary of a god?"
"I am always watching the sky."
"Ah, right. Rain and air raids both fall out of the sky. Whatever the ability is, at that level you really are an emissary of a god, aren't you?"
The contract came together fast.
First, Tata would provide the radio. Obviously.
Second, the price of the air-raid intel was approval to trade with the Human Meat Factory. In concrete terms: permission to visit the Factory, permission to deal in every product they made, Tata's included, and last, permission to deliver mail. The right of visit covered not only me, but any errand-runner I sent. In short, I meant to put Clock-out Man to work and make money. Even after a commission was skimmed off, it would be an absurdly profitable business. Buy Cores with the earnings, and the road ahead might get considerably easier.
In truth, this was a matter of saving every life here, so I could have asked a greater price. I couldn't. There was one problem on my side, and that problem ran straight into the third term.
Third, the Human Meat Factory could keep its contract with the insider currently planted in the Complex. A double contract was allowed. I would not be monopolizing the exchange. A shame, but unavoidable. Unlike me, who had to leave the Complex at every turn, that office clerk would stay put and feed them information steadily. I was the spare, for when the insider went to ground. That insider, they said, was accumulating a fortune by taking a tremendous quantity of ammunition from the Factory, the way a man collects tax.
"We have a deal."
"Shall I draw up papers to mark it? The insider we have now likes receiving things in writing. Civil servant through and through."
"Fine. No need for paper. Have the signature put on a cloud."
"Hell of a commitment to the bit."
At last we reached the building in question. The factory before the main gate, the one I had passed through blindfolded.
"Curious about this place?"
I was. Saying so outright felt like a bit much.
"If we don't cut across here, don't we have to go the long way around? While we've been walking you've seen—"
"All right, again. How many fingers is this?"
"One."
"Fingers!"
"Two."
"We've got a patient here. We need to get out fast."
With a gesture that said nice excuse, Tata took the lead toward the factory.
"I won't blindfold you this time, so follow me. Showing you the inside counts as a sign of trust."
"As if you've got something that impressive hidden away."
And the inside of the factory, once I'd stepped in—
"……Worth hiding."
Spread through the place was equipment enough to explain the blindfold, and then some. Identical machines, dressed in ranks and files.
"The moment I saw the blueprints, I knew. They were drawn over there."
What filled the factory were small bomber drones. The count was exactly twenty.
"You can't fool my eyes. Those bastards made them, no question. Those—I don't even want to remember—"
It was the exact shape from Tofu's blueprints.
"Those vermin they keep as pets."
A mercenary was just about to leave the protected zone in front of the Complex.
"Hold it."
Five men barred his way. Faces that still looked green.
"Huh?"
"What commission did you accept?"
Their representative was an unusually short man. The mercenary could hardly believe it, but—
"What is this little kid."
"Pfft. The small peppers are spicy."
From Kid's reaction, and from a glimpse of the state of their gear, he had the situation sorted in a moment.
"Hunters?"
"Whoa, that's sharp. How'd you know?"
"You look like trainees. I'm busy, so keep it short."
"I already asked. What commission did you take?"
"That's a pass. Any other business?"
As one, the four behind him snapped out their batons.
"Cute. Trainee babies. That all the gear you're cleared to carry?"
"Gear only helps. We have abilities."
"Who's your close-combat instructor, and which cohort? They wouldn't have taught you to run your mouths like that."
"Actually, we know what commission you took. Word is you're good at finding people?"
The mercenary's ease began, little by little, to evaporate.
"……Who told you that?"
Find one postman, and find him fast. And if some rotten luck swept the man into an air raid, change the return route before that unlucky mess could happen. That was the commission the mercenary had taken, and Kid already knew it. He had heard it straight from the client.
"I'm sorry, but you're going to have to fail that commission."
"Huh?"
The moment a baton rose in Kid's hand as well, the mercenary took one step back and drew a long, deep breath in through his nose.