WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS

Translator/Editor: Ryuu
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ The Little Prince of the Ossuary

00010 <-- The Little Prince of the Ossuary -->

------------------------------------------------------------------------

#Faction (2), Camp Roberts

‘Talent Advantage’ is a system that aids in the reacquisition of a skill one has learned before, regardless of the number of cycles. When the number of times a skill has been learned is represented by n, the experience required to reacquire it becomes 1/n. This raises the question of whether there is no benefit when n equals 1, meaning the skill was learned only once, but this is not the case because the ‘Unknown Penalty’ is removed.

Such a structure is in line with the intention of the developers. The initial experiences are designed to make humans feel the overwhelming fear in the face of disaster, while later experiences are meant to attach fun to the role of a superhuman overcoming hardships. By allowing the same content to be enjoyed from a completely different perspective, it is an excellent composition in terms of controlling the rate of consumption.

Gyeoul had experienced a considerable number of apocalypses. Although the skills acquired each time could not always be the same, essential ones were repeatedly learned. Most of the combat series, some of the survival series, certain languages, and the core of the social series like ‘Insight’, ‘Perception’, and ‘Deception’.

Skill levels are defined such that up to level 3 is beginner, up to level 6 is skilled, levels 7 to 10 are expert, and beyond that is the domain of geniuses and superhumans. Crossing each threshold consumes more resources.

The boy didn't waste the experience points gained from his venture into San Miguel County. His current skill level is far higher than the progress would suggest. Thanks to Talent Advantage, many of the combat series skills have reached expert or genius level. Thus, Gyeoul is capable of handling unfavorable battles. It would be troublesome if not, as death during a live broadcast is akin to a broadcasting accident.

Skills related to combat capabilities increase the concealment status called ‘Threat Level’. The effect becomes stronger from the potential hostility stage. Even considering the minor penalty, Gyeoul's current state is equivalent to that of a ferocious beast. The exaggeration of his notoriety further increased his threat level.

Thanks to that, when he took his place at the distribution site as promised, volunteers kept glancing his way. Each serving station was affiliated with a different organization. Those without an organization faced severe discrimination.

A few people introduced by Jang Yeon-cheol were present. When their eyes met, they greeted with a nod. He felt grateful. Where Gyeoul was watching, the distribution proceeded normally.

“Excuse me.”

“Y-Yes?”

“Shouldn't it be divided equally for everyone?”

The color drained from the woman's face upon Gyeoul's remark.

“Uh, well, I belong to the ‘Dalmul Promotion Association’?”

“So what?”

“What do you mean by that…….”

The woman, now cowed, glanced sideways at a man opposite her. She had given him more because they were from the same organization. The man, whose pride was at stake, pretended to be tough. Many in the same line showed hostility. Crushed by the threat level, yet somehow managing because of the crowd, the stateless refugees didn't know what to do.

As he was holding his ground, a man approached with a smile. His pleasant face was in stark contrast to his muscular build. Below his neck, he was a beast. He was of a size that couldn't be sustained by normal rations alone. Judging by his sauntering demeanor, he seemed to be some sort of action leader.

His voice was eerily soft. A man who wielded subtle fear as a weapon.

“Young friend, I hear you're quite steadfast. I'd like to have a word with you, if that's alright? Hmm?”

“I'm not available right now. I'll listen later.”

Cutting him off with a firm tone, the man's expression hardened. He then scanned the surroundings, only to find an American soldier who was supposed to be on guard duty now staring intently this way. The man shrugged with a genial smile.

“This won't do us any good, right? Our elders say they have urgent matters to discuss with the student here. It would be appreciated if you could spare a moment.”

Despite his attempt to coerce, the boy didn't budge, visibly flustering him. Standing firm with technical assistance, Gyeoul clearly drew the line.

“I'll give you time after the distribution. Meanwhile, it seems you know those people over there, could you please tell them to do their job properly on my behalf? Otherwise, it's going to be bothersome for me too.”

He deliberately didn't specify what would bother him. It's better to leave some things to the imagination.

The man, after studying the boy for a moment, sighed and patted his shoulder.

"Alright then, but make some time for me later, alright? You've promised this gentleman, got it?"

"I understand."

When the man went over to the queue and said something, those who had been waiting helplessly started complaining. However, as soon as the man frowned, they quieted down. One of the people who had been served glanced maliciously at the boy, but flinched and hurried away when their eyes met.

Similar incidents occurred elsewhere. Large organizations like the ‘Korean Patriotic Association’ or the ‘New Village United Faction’ tried to pick a fight with the boy, but others wisely adjusted their behavior on their own.

Everyone who received help cleared their trays right there, hastily. They didn't head indoors despite the chilly wind, fearing they might be robbed along the way. Representatives from each organization watched with displeasure, but couldn't cause trouble with the military present.

Two American soldiers were chuckling away. All this while, they might not have stopped the refugees' behavior but certainly found it amusing.

As the distribution ended, the middle-aged man approached again.

"Now it's time to keep your promise, isn't it? Our elder is waiting."

"Lead the way."

"Oh, you're quite cold."

His words were friendly, but there was a tremble in them. The unease beyond his laughter was palpable. He kept looking back as we walked, revealing suppressed rage and fear. Deep hostility made the threat level fully effective. It must have felt like walking with a man-eating tiger at his back.

The tent we arrived at looked ordinary on the outside. After all, they were all either military or received as relief goods. However, the inside was like a different world. It was extended linearly, perhaps by tearing down the back, and there were as many as five stoves visible, all glowing red with fire. The lighting was bright too. The number of lamps was extravagant.

On the other hand, the number of residents seemed far less than the optimal level. There were about twenty foldable beds, with desks and chairs placed in the remaining space. There were even sofas and a TV. It was puzzling how and where they had set up the antenna. At best, it would only receive news and disaster broadcasts.

Currently, a spacious area was arranged in the center, with a middle-aged man leading a group of men seated in two rows on each side. Each had a drink in front of them. All of them simultaneously turned their gaze towards the boy. The intention was clear. There was an empty seat in the center, presumably for Gyeoul. Instead of a table, an ammunition box was overturned, with glasses, bottles of alcohol, and dishes with snacks placed on it. There was an abundance of greasy meat skewers, originating from who knows where.

"A young warrior has arrived. Let's give him a round of applause."

That damn applause. As the boy thought this, men and women on both sides clapped with stiff faces, shouting "Waah" out loud. They might have intended to maintain decorum, but their arms were awkwardly spread wide, hitting their hands together. It was a Marine Corps applause. It was clear at a glance that it was an organization that disciplined its members.

A neatly dressed woman, rare to see in the refugee area, guided the boy to the center.

"Please sit here."

She touched him more than necessary. It might have been different if it were his first time, but after so many cycles, he was hardly disturbed. Gyeoul quietly took a seat and looked straight ahead.

"Bold. Very bold."

The elderly man at the head laughed heartily and nodded.

"First, let me introduce myself. My name is Im Hwa-su. I'm the leader of the ‘Dalmul Promotion Association’. My people call me Makriji. And you, young warrior, what is your name?"

"I am Han Gyeoul."

"Ha- Gyeoul, you say? A fine name. It fits your character perfectly! Looking at you feels like a winter wind blowing through. Don't you all agree? What do you think?"

With that, they unanimously exclaimed, "Yes, Makriji!" It was thunderous from the center. They raised their voices deliberately to intimidate. But there was no reason for Gyeoul to be scared; it was just noise to him.

Noticing the boy's calm demeanor, Im Hwa-su looked down, pursed his lips, sighed meaninglessly, and then nodded.

"The lad is solid. Yes, a man should indeed be like this. When I was young, under President Park, hmm? When President Park united the national power to make the country prosperous, it was good, but our generation grew up too comfortably, gradually losing the spirit of Greater Joseon and Goguryeo. It's obvious you're different from those frail and helpless youths. Hmm! Right. A man of seventeen could have shouted, 'I've taken the enemy commander's head!' without it being an exaggeration, couldn't he?"

There it was again. That question that pretended to seek agreement was actually a way to affirm his own status. Having been adept at reading minds and emphasizing human relationships after repeatedly experiencing ‘Days after Apocalypse’, it was all the more clear. The people on both sides once again loudly agreed with Im Hwa-su's words.

Im Hwa-su, acting dignified as the leader, laughed loudly and then gestured to the woman still beside the boy.

"Age doesn't matter when it comes to making a name for oneself. Especially in times like these. It's a man's world. A true man enjoys wine and women. Eun-ju, pour the young warrior a drink."

"Yes, Makriji."

Eun-ju, wearing a form-fitting dress, leaned close to the boy. She smoothly opened the bottle of whiskey, poured the amber liquid into a glass with ice. It was all done before he could refuse. Even in this situation, the warmth and softness of her body were palpable. The barrage of viewer messages was expected without even opening the window. They would undoubtedly be shouting for sex.

Considering the ice and whiskey, it was an extravagant display given the reality of the refugee area. If this was the luxury that the second-ranked ‘Dalmul Promotion Association’ could afford, one could only wonder about the ‘Korean Patriotic Association’, the largest faction. Gyeoul silently observed the glass of whiskey, while Im Hwa-su picked up his own.

"Let's have a drink first. How can men settle anything without a drink?"

"Sorry, but I'll pass on the drink. Please state your business first."

"Ah, is it your first time drinking? Good timing. Your first drink is important. This is called Chivas Regal and..."

His words trailed off, uncompleted. Gyeoul had taken the glass, extended it far to his right, and slowly tipped it, pouring out the contents. The leader's expression hardened. A commotion broke out immediately.

"This fucking brat!"

Some were hastily drawing knives from their bosoms, mostly kitchen knives, but enough to kill a man. Amidst the chaos, Gyeoul, calm as the eye of a storm, placed the glass down and looked straight at Im Hwa-su.

"Please, state your business."

Im Hwa-su, frowning, gestured to calm everyone down.

"Stop it! What do you think you're doing, huh? Are you disrespecting me, Im Hwa-su?"

"Sorry, Makriji!"

The storm subsided in an instant, and it was as if nothing had happened. However, the tension remained. Im Hwa-su, after chewing on a skewer and swallowing it, leisurely drained his glass of whiskey and let out a satisfied "Ah." Then, as if it were a habit, he nodded to himself, put down his glass, and placed his hands on his knees, turning to the boy.

"Fearlessness is good, but too much can be a hindrance in life. Fear is a survival instinct. Sometimes, it's necessary to put aside your bravado. Take it as advice from someone who's lived longer."

"I understand. So, what do you want?"

"Hahaha!"

Im Hwa-su, pretending to survey the surroundings, took another skewer. As he chewed on the dripping fat, Gyeoul remained motionless, observing. Im Hwa-su, tapping his fingers meaninglessly and looking around again, was merely showing off his authority. His tendency to drag out his speech unnecessarily was just as evident.

After some hesitation and seeing no reaction from the boy, Im Hwa-su, with a frown, finally stated his intention.

"It's nothing big. I'm just wondering if you'd be interested in joining us. With someone like our Gyeoul, with your skills, courage, and connections, wouldn't it be exceptional? I heard you're particularly close to the notoriously strict Lieutenant Capston."

"I'm not interested."

"Don't be so hasty. Listen to what this Makriji has to say. It's not a bad offer. The ‘Korean Patriotic Association’ is already the largest force. It's stable, but it'll be difficult for a young one like you to become a core member there. Though we're all Koreans, in the struggle for a place, you're no different from a stranger. Surviving would be tough. But we're different. With someone like you, Gyeoul - it would be quite beneficial. We'd treat you importantly. So, how about Eun-ju here? If you agree, she's yours right away. Your main wife, Gyeoul's main wife. If there's any other woman you like, two or three or even four, we'll arrange it. Concubinage is the prerogative of a hero. Drink and smoke as much as you like! A man should be treated according to his abilities, and you, Gyeoul, certainly have that value!"

With that, he glanced sideways, and Eun-ju clung to the younger Gyeoul more seductively. She breathed hotly on his nape, grasped his hand, and placed it on her breast, covering it with her own to make him fondle her. The sweet scent of skin approached. A warm softness slid under his fingertips. A warm sensation spread from below his waist.

The viewers with ‘Sensory Synchronization’ activated were probably cheering at this moment. Female viewers might frown, but who knows? Some might have applied the sensory synchronization to Eun-ju. In virtual reality, there are not a few women who enjoy such situations.

Sorry to disappoint. Even thinking this, he wasn't really sorry. Gyeoul slowly, but firmly, pushed Eun-ju aside. Despite her desperate clinging, he firmly rejected her. She looked at the leader in fear.

"Does Eun-ju not appeal to you?"

The leader smacked his lips and smirked.

"Then how about this?"

Im Hwa-su gestured behind him. Bring in the Japanese girl, he ordered. After the ‘Sumiyoshi-kai’, the largest Japanese faction, was nearly annihilated in an organizational conflict, the Japanese refugees had been suffering terribly. Gyeoul knew this from journals, but had never felt it through other channels until now.

The dragged-in girl was all too clear. She struggled and resisted.

"Crush her."

At Im Hwa-su's command, not men, but women stepped forward to pin the girl down. Three of them, one of whom giggled and seemed to enjoy it.

"So presumptuous for a Jap."

She wore a single layer of cloth, roughly cut to resemble a kimono. The thin garment easily slipped, exposing her half-naked body. Her pleas for help, filled with a Japanese accent, went unheeded. The resisting and restraining bodies created a lewd scene. The restrainers eventually spread her legs wide.

Watching contentedly, Im Hwa-su turned to the boy.

"I know. At your age, what you imagine is… how should I put it… intense. A desire for conquest. Look. Aren't you moved? You must feel something, right?"

"If I say I'm not interested?"

"You'd be lying."

Im Hwa-su, spinning around with a grin, cast a shadow over the struggling woman, like a demon. So, were those surrounding him worshippers of demons?

Gyeoul had chosen ‘Days after Apocalypse’ over other services precisely because it felt most real. At least, the world Gyeoul had experienced was a paradise for the wicked. He couldn't shake off the dissonance in the cheerful atmospheres of other virtual realities.

Already burdened with nostalgia for reality, the constant reminder that this was not real, that he couldn't forget or enjoy for a moment, made him feel isolated like oil on water. The worlds of those who lived happily and the world of a boy born and raised in Gyeoul were vastly different.

At least ‘Days after Apocalypse’ allowed him to forget the heartache for a while.

This was my world.

After a deep breath, Gyeoul spat out.

"Elder, eat shit."

It was as if a bomb had gone off in the room.

Footnotes:

[1] Makriji (莫離支) was an official position in Goguryeo, and was the highest position equivalent to today's Prime Minister.

[2] Chivas Regal - A brand of Scotch whisky.

Join our discord at https://dsc.gg/wetried

Our series