WeTried Translations

Translator: Coughing Baby

Editor: Coughing Baby

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ The Little Prince in the Ossuary

Chapter 119

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April Vengeance (7)

A hinge came off. Ominous metal clanged against the floor. The rest were in bad shape too. Every impact made them screech. Loose screws were sticking out, as if they had crawled out on their own.

This was a crisis... Was the explosion not happening yet? As he thought, Gyeoul noticed an electrical panel nearby. A faint idea surfaced. The locker room was sealed off. Could this work?

Thud! The door shuddered, and Gyeoul carefully stepped back. It should hold a little longer.

The panel was locked. He blew off the lock with his pistol, opened it, and shut down all power to the room. The enclosed space went dark. Since it was a locker room, there was not even a window.

'The ventilation fan should have stopped too.'

Gyeoul put on his night vision goggles and held a smoke grenade in one hand. The pin was already pulled. He only had to drop it. But too early would be a problem. The sick, starving things needed to rush in without realizing. They had to fill this space completely, then realize too late that something was wrong and find they could not get out easily.

Something broke. Splinters flew into the room. The door twisted badly, split open at the top and bottom. Only the handle and the lock area were still holding.

This should do. Gyeoul threw the smoke grenade behind a row of lockers. After two breaths, green smoke began to hiss out. Then boom! The door finally broke. It sounded like a dam giving way. A flood of corpses came pouring in.

Light and death flooded in together. Some collapsed under their own weight and were crushed.

Gyeoul drew them deeper and deeper inside. The passage between lockers was already swallowed by thick smoke. The light had been dim to begin with, so even Gyeoul could not see. He flipped up the night vision and put on a gas mask. Feeling his way along both sides, he kept backing up.

Crash, bang. The lockers also worked as partitions. Mutants were pouring in noisily from the far side too. Given time, the ones coming in from there would hit him from behind.

In the smoke, Gyeoul climbed onto the lockers in one silent motion.

The thing chasing him passed through where he had been. More kept coming. Lying flat on his stomach, Gyeoul felt harsh vibrations through the lockers. Things were colliding on both sides as they passed. Their rough breathing came from arm’s reach.

Keh-luk! Kweeek! Agonized coughs came from those in front.

Even things that were not weapons could become weapons. Smoke, whatever its purpose, was still made by burning something. In a sealed space, it could cause respiratory failure.

Gyeoul lay still and waited, listening as the coughing multiplied.

'Oxygen shortage is dangerous for me too...'

Too many of them were breathing in a cramped space. A gas mask filtered harmful substances, but it did not create oxygen. How quickly would the oxygen run out? Hard to tell. The key was how long it took the mutants to suffocate. He could not confirm it visually, which was a problem. It was hard to wear a gas mask and night vision at the same time. Even with night vision, the smoke would hide everything.

Gyeoul crawled forward. There was no need to stay silent now.

The coughing turned into boiling groans. Things that could not breathe could not even send warning cries. Even the healthier ones would have lost their sense of smell. Gyeoul climbed down carefully. Something alive crunched under his foot. They were tangled together, writhing in pain. Guhk. Guhk. Guheooook. The sounds were wet and thick.

A radio call came in.

[Lieutenant Han, what is your status right now?]

Because of the bone-conduction receiver, no sound leaked out.

But answering out loud was difficult. Instead of speaking, Gyeoul tapped the mic. It might not carry meaning, but the rhythm was clearly deliberate. Hard to mistake for random noise.

[Looks like speaking is difficult for you... The boiler will explode soon. 1 minute and 37 seconds. I blocked the east corridor. If we need to change the plan, tap three times. If not, tap five.]

Crack. He twisted the neck of a mutant that had come face to face with him, then signaled the investigator to proceed as planned.

[Understood. Please stay safe. I will see you at the stairs to Deck 10.]

He waited for the explosion. The dark corner was a pit of groans. In the faint light from the entrance, nothing was distinguishable. Relying only on hearing and touch, Gyeoul killed everything nearby and everything approaching. Was this what blind fighting felt like?

Boom!

The blast sounded smaller than expected. A discordant note cutting into a symphony.

A moment later, heat rushed in. The room had already been packed tight. Mutants also ran hotter than humans, so the temperature spiked fast.

As he felt his way through smoke and darkness in a low stance, Gyeoul noticed an unusual texture. Even through gloves, the difference was clear. Skin unlike normal mutants. Hard to the touch.

special mutants.

Being stronger than normal did not mean better in every way. The higher the metabolism, the more oxygen it needed. If he listened closely, one harsh groan stood out clearly from the surrounding noise.

It would die even if he left it alone. Unless it suppressed its metabolism. Even then, once it woke up, it would already be trapped. It could not force its way through a fire bulkhead.

It might already have been poisoned anyway.

He ignored it and moved on. The floor was piled with exhausted bodies, so keeping his balance took care.

The entrance was half blocked. Still, he was lucky the ones outside were drawn by the explosion. Otherwise getting out would have been much harder.

At last, the corridor. Open space. But the sense of openness came only from sounds echoing all around him. His view had only shifted from black darkness to white haze.

When he reached a straight stretch, Gyeoul took off his gas mask. Then he ran.

In thick steam, visibility was barely one to two meters. The mutants could not react properly to the boy bursting out of nowhere. Smack! One mutant’s teeth shattered from a punch to the jaw. He slammed full-body into one blocking him head-on. His weight, plus full combat gear, plus precise technique focusing the impact. The mutant flew backward.

Even for Gyeoul, it felt like testing the limits of his reflexes. His running speed matched the speed at which mutants sprang out. Conditions were so bad that even sensory correction came only in short bursts. He had to react the instant he saw one. Hit, shove, or slip past.

The screams of the ones he struck came too late. Gyeoul already had momentum and vanished deeper into the steam. Mutants that lost their prey roared. Countless footsteps rushed toward the calls, the distance shrinking fast. Gyeoul lowered his stance and rolled. The rolling boy and the mutant pack crossed in an instant. Some tripped over him. He killed one by driving his elbow into its neck, striking with enough force to crush its cervical spine.

Mutant density increased along his path. In the steam, they appeared like a wall. Even when he cut sharply in another direction, same result. Mutants that spotted Gyeoul began to frenzy. There was no opening. While knocking down one that lunged at him, he pulled a grenade pin and rolled it away. Then he grabbed a nearby mutant by the collar and turned it toward the grenade.

The mutant facing him widened both eyes. A beautiful woman with a pale face. She opened her mouth wide and lunged to bite him.

Boom!

The steam convulsed with the shockwave. Even with the crowd absorbing part of it, Gyeoul could not withstand the crushing force that hit his shield. He fell backward. Tiiing, his ears rang sharply after a moment of muffled silence. The body over him stopped breathing. He rolled it aside.

At the end of the corridor, Gyeoul felt along the wall. It was around here. The bulkhead shutoff lever...

"Kieeeek!"

Gyeoul slammed a mutant’s head into the lever. Crunch. The handle dug into its face. He yanked it down hard in that state. The lever bent, and the mutant’s head smashed again.

Even with its face caved in, the mutant kept pushing against the wall and struggling free. Gyeoul did not resist that force. He added to it and threw the thing back toward the corridor he had come through. Beyond the fog came the sound of bodies tangling and collapsing.

Another one jumped out, and he kicked it. A kick to the stomach, a knee into its folding face, then an elbow down onto the head as it snapped up. Right after that, he fired a full magazine of suppressive fire.

The bulkhead was already halfway down. Gyeoul threw himself under it. He rolled, braked on one knee, and used inertia to bring his upper body up. He twisted the rifle, flung out the empty mag, and seated a fresh one in a breathless half-breath.

Tutatatatang! Tatatang! Tatatatang!

Mutants pushing through the steam dropped one after another. One dead mutant’s head got jammed under the bulkhead. Thud, thud. Gyeoul kicked it with heavy combat boots. Each kick cracked bone and deformed the head until the bulkhead dropped farther. Then the skull finally broke. The bulkhead crushed the remaining flesh and bone fragments.

Half a smashed head remained at Gyeoul’s feet.

Blocked by the bulkhead, steam no longer spread to this side. Visibility improved quickly.

Shotgun blasts, almost as loud as explosions, rang out. Was the investigator in combat?

Gyeoul ran toward the stairs and saw mutants being torn apart in real time. Each shotgun blast hit like a mace. The investigator was crouched behind cover, pouring thirty buckshot rounds into anything crossing over. A mutant that leaped high flipped backward the other way. Spilled guts came with it.

'There is nothing for me to help with.'

She had called herself a veteran of irregular warfare, and it was no bluff. Her aim and fire distribution were near perfect. Not one target took more than three shots. A shotgun was a short-range weapon to begin with. She had clearly chosen one she knew well. That took serious nerve. Her strength was impressive too, handling a weapon over seven kilograms with agility.

Click. Facing the turning muzzle, Gyeoul raised a hand.

"Calm down. It’s me."

"...You made it out alive. I was very worried."

Agent Gibson exhaled in relief. Her breath trembled slightly. Then she asked for a moment of cover. Gyeoul watched the main approach routes beside the counter where she had taken position. Meanwhile, the investigator removed the magazine from her gun. It was not standard. To load thirty-two shotgun shells at once, it was a thick, flat drum.

If they were rifle mags like Gyeoul’s, losing a few would not matter. But Agent Gibson’s drum mags were bulky and hard to carry in large numbers. So she had to top off whenever she could.

"How exactly did you get out of there?"

She asked while loading shells one by one from ammo she had dumped out of her gear. Gyeoul explained. In the locker room, he induced suffocation with smoke grenades, and in the corridor, he just ran.

"What mattered was how many enemies could engage me at once. With visibility that bad, how could they spot me and gather in time? I thought moving slower would be more dangerous."

The investigator shook her head.

"I can imagine the idea, but I could not make myself do it. And the smoke-grenade play was excellent improvisation. I think you will do well in San Francisco too."

After finishing the reload, she pulled the charging handle. The chamber was empty. She inserted one extra shell first, then attached the magazine. Then she asked Gyeoul,

"What do you want to do now? At a glance, this ship has over a thousand cabins."

As she spoke, she pointed at the ship’s internal layout map on the front wall inside the counter. After reviewing the floor plans for each deck, she spoke again without waiting for his answer.

"How about securing the bridge first? This ship is basically a hotel at sea, and the bridge should double as a control room... we may be able to check each cabin through the internal line. There might even be CCTV. Even if not, at least we can stop the ship or reduce speed to buy time."

It was a good suggestion. Gyeoul nodded.

============================ Author's Afterword ============================

#Q&A

Q. WanderingSoul: @My personal impression is that the AI seems to be creating environments similar to Gyeoul's past memories, ones he can overcome, for Gyeoul's happiness... And the more that happens, the harder and harsher Gyeoul's surroundings will become... How should we accept happiness that is guided and created through AI...

A. It is true that the details of the world setting vary by person... hehe... Gyeoul already mentioned the distinction between AI and humans before. Whether that was sincere, or a lie to reassure his therapist, I do not know.

Q. BlackRain66: @As I keep reading, I am personally curious about how this novel will end. Will this game's zombie problem be solved, will the pain the protagonist Gyeoul experienced be resolved and then the story ends, or will it end with reality-related episodes like returning to real life... I know detailed answers would be spoilers and hard to give, but could you answer what you can? 1. Have you already decided the ending? 2. Is the focus of this work solving the zombie problem in virtual reality, or the healing and happiness of the protagonist Gyeoul, or an ending that makes us think about modern satire, predictions of modern and future society, and what true happiness is? 3. It is early to ask, but when this work ends, do you intend to write a sequel? In short, will writing become your profession, or is this work more like a hobby and after it ends you might write sometimes but not steadily as a job??

A.
1. Of course the ending is already set. The final sentence of this novel is one line of dialogue from Gyeoul. I cannot share the exact line because that would be a spoiler.

2. The focus of the novel is, of course, conflict in the real world. That is where the rose is blooming too.

3. I have drafted a mid-length story called [The Road to Happiness], set in the future of the same world setting, but right now I have not even properly finished Ossuary... I do not want to raise expectations.

And I want to become a full-time writer. Ossuary is my debut work. If I can hold my head up before my family as a writer, I will make it my profession. If not, well... I will have to quit novels....

Q. app2225: @Unlike Gyeoul's era, modern high school girls basically have six arms, ten tentacles, and four pairs of eyes, so Gyeoul could never win, haha

A. Good grief. I went out shopping today and delinquent high school girls were firing lasers from their eyes. From now on I should wear diapers when I go out. Too scary...

Q. PlumConcentrate2: Ossuary... now that I have read it and enjoyed it, the title seems fitting, but when I first saw it I had a huge prejudice and did not want to read it.(...) I was lucky that Lord Jimeklo guided me to read it.

A. I have been curious for a while, what is Lord Jimeklo? Is it a person? Or a site?

Q. RGZ95: @Isn't the charm of Tunguska's writing scene immersion @[email protected]? It always feels like I am seeing it directly in my head, so I always enjoy it.

A. RGZ95 is actually being fooled by me. The reason scenes come to mind when readers read the novel is because the author sends images by telepathy at that exact time.

Phew. It is like this every day, so my childlike innocence gets consumed hard. Someday I need to stop using tricks and compete with pure writing skill... Korean is too difficult.

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