WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS

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

◈ The Little Prince of the Ossuary

00013 <-- The Little Prince of the Ossuary -->

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

#Leadership, Camp Roberts

Once the time acceleration and journal logging had concluded, Gyeoul decided to go to those who were waiting for him. He had shown his abilities. He had drawn enough time. He hoped his body was still heated up. It should be enough to make up for the penalty given to minors.

The night in the refugee area was eerily quiet. Many intact tents were empty, evidence that anxious people gathered in one place every night. Someone approached from the opposite side. An unfamiliar face. Glancing at the boy with a somewhat uneasy look, but this level of vigilance was routine in the refugee area. Just as he thought they would pass by, his ‘Survival Instinct’ reacted.

Thud. Disguised as an accidental bump, he stabbed with a knife, but Gyeoul was prepared. The moment the metal flashed, he had already grabbed it. Twisted it. "Argh!" A cry of pain. The knife dropped with a clang, a rusty and jagged filthy blade. It would be suitable for assassination. Even a slight cut would fester.

Currently, Gyeoul's combat abilities received a strong technical adjustment. Even considering the penalty, he was strong. He had more than enough strength to overpower an average adult. This was why the man's attempt to struggle was futile.

"Ah, it hurts! It hurts! Let go!"

As if he would let go. Gripping the arm like a bridle, he dragged the man into the narrow darkness between the tents. For the one being dragged, it must have felt like entering the maw of a dark monster. "Eek! Eeeeek!" The man, spitting saliva and glowing in rage, forgot his situation and pleaded for help around him.

"Save me! This crazy kid's killing people! Someone help me, please! Uh-huh. Help! Help! Do something, you Yankee fucks! Fuck! FUUUUUCK!"

"Quiet. Police and the US military don't enter the refugee area unless it's a specified time and place."

It was like late-night patrols not frequenting Harlem. As long as the key perimeters were well-guarded, nothing significant could happen. Surveillance towers stood in such places.

No one came to the man's aid. Several tents lit up anew, but that meant they were awake and prepared for intruders, so don't try anything funny.

Throwing the man with the momentum of dragging him, he collapsed, no longer able to breathe properly. Trembling with drool and snot dripping down, his appearance was pitiful. Gyeoul brushed his hair back and drew his long sword. The man couldn't even stand and scrambled back until there was nowhere left to retreat. In desperation, he tried to dig through the tent end. The speed of his bare hands digging was astonishing. A bonus applied in desperate times? It wasn't controllable, so it wasn't useful.

He plunged the knife into the man's back. A snap! Air whistled out of the punctured lung. Blood bubbled forth, a sticky darkness.

The struggle didn't last long. With the blood, the strength also drained. The spasms at the moment of death. He slumped, trembling faintly. There was no need to know his background. It was clear he had crossed several lines considering the failure. There was no rule saying his own organization had to send him. Among those who took from others, those at the bottom of the pyramid are always hungry. A few ration cards could easily lure them in.

Yet, the killing served as a warning. Being seen as easy prey gets tiresome. This way, fewer people die. He knew from experience. Still, there was a strong repulsion, and ignoring it caused a hot flow in his veins. A pleasant pain. Each time it flowed, it felt as though the bitterness in his heart melted away, little by little.

It was a momentary illusion. When the heat subsided, his heart grew heavier. It wasn't guilt. Rather, it was because there was no need to feel guilty. It felt unreal, like this wasn't reality.

The boy quietly lifted the tent flap. Beyond the lifted flap, men tightly clutching clubs waited, and behind them, women huddled and covered their mouths, staring this way. Their eyes met. The boy bowed his head.

"I'm sorry for disturbing your sleep. This person tried to kill me. I had no choice. I have no intention of harming any of you."

It was a crafted image. Through many cycles, he had learned how to be intimidating. Killing calmly made him seem like a monster. It's scary when it's hard to understand. The same goes for going berserk, but it's difficult to attempt communication afterward. These people must belong to some organization. It was worth expecting some advertising effect. That young one is truly fearsome.

As expected, the people inside the tents stiffened and barely nodded. Some didn't even manage that. Excuse me. Sweet dreams. Leaving a short greeting, the boy dropped the tent flap.

He searched the corpse. Only three ration cards were found. As expected, there was no clue about the background. It would have been suspicious if there was one.

Leaving the corpse behind, he reached his destination where a guard was posted. Any rest place of significant people would have guards. The guards inside were weak against arson, hence the exterior guards. The guard saw the boy and quickly went inside. The bustling of people getting up. Without giving them time to prepare, he slipped inside.

"Student, what brings you here at such a late hour?"

It was the old man who had previously lamented his miserable state. The liver spots on his face seemed to have increased in the past few days. The embarrassment was visible. Not just on the old man, but on others too. He aimed for that. To take control, one must not give the other party any leeway. There's a reason he chose nighttime for this meeting. Even to allies, especially to allies, one must not relinquish control.

"I've decided to accept your proposal."

"Oh!"

Yeon-cheol exclaimed. Despite the shock of the situation, the expression was mostly bright. Whether it was due to being naturally weak to sleep, or weakened by malnutrition, excluding those still not fully awake, everyone shared in the joy. However, one middle-aged lady looked anxious. She was eyeing the boy's bloody hand.

"Are you hurt?"

"It's not my blood."

Fear spread, but this level of fear was just right. Or perhaps, it was time to act. Mix in a bit of a lie.

"Someone tried to kill me. Turns out he was from the ‘Damul Promotion Association’. Seems they don't like me coming here."

"Damn those bastards!"

"To think they'd try to kill a child, not even an adult!"

"Those bastards always took our share! Now that it looks like they can't easily take it anymore, they start these shenanigans! It's just a way to nip things in the bud!"

Anger surged immediately. The anger of a crowd can easily become blind. Especially a woman scorned by a faithless husband was trembling with excessive anger. Even as she tried to soothe her crying child upon waking, she needed to soothe herself first. Gyeoul decided to demand his standing while the majority were emotional.

"I need to make something clear. As you can see, I'm young. I don't want to be underestimated. So, I'd like a promise in advance. When we're together or discussing official matters, please address me respectfully. In private, you can use informal or even derogatory terms if you wish."

"Of course! That's what we wanted! Right, everyone?"

Yeon-cheol, who initially invited Gyeoul, took the lead in rallying the crowd. Gyeoul narrowed his eyes, observing his actions. Though now they were just a subgroup within the vast community of Camp Roberts, understanding Yeon-cheol's potential role was crucial for when they would eventually become an independent community.

As he heard the rising agreement, he raised his hand, signaling enough discussion. Silence fell. All eyes were on him. The first time he was in such a situation, he couldn't describe how tense he was. Though he knew everyone was just artificial intelligence, the absence of any difference when interacting made the unbridgeable gap feel terrifying. Now, it was just a memory.

"Good. Let's make a promise. I will do my best for all of you. Please do your best for me as well. I look forward to working together."

Applause followed. The faces he saw were all tired, but there was a glimpse of expectation, joy, and hope. A good reaction. Yet, there were still calculating gazes to remember. An unsettling element to note. He raised his hand again to calm the room and opened his mouth.

"It might be sudden, but as your leader, I'm making my first decision. Starting tomorrow, we need people to train under Lieutenant Robert Capston's unit. Please don't take this lightly. These same people will be tasked with missions later."

"How many do you need?"

It was Yeon-cheol, who had been acting as a temporary leader, who asked. Gyeoul responded to him.

"At least ten. That way, we can fill a truck with just our people. It will also reduce disputes over contributions with other groups."

Silence fell. Ten was a lot. It was clear from their expressions. They had said they had seventeen combat-ready individuals, but that was the maximum number. Was it all entirely truthful when they were pulling Gyeoul into their fold? What if a fight breaks out when all the combatants are out? Those left behind would be as good as dead. Yet, it would be difficult to tell the young leader they couldn't even spare ten.

Gyeoul addressed their concerns before they could voice them.

"Don't worry. You said you had seventeen who could fight, but honestly, I didn't entirely believe that. If we send out ten, I'm worried about those left behind. So, Yeon-cheol, you don't need to look so troubled. I understand."

"I'm sorry. And thank you for understanding."

"We've put you in a difficult position…"

"We were desperate, please understand."

While the overall response was like this, there was also a harsh reaction.

"Aren't we supposed to take risks? Everyone's too scared! If you only rely on one side, what will you do? Did you hire a servant? I'll go myself!"

It was an angry voice. The woman holding a baby. Maybe because she was abandoned by her husband, she had been quite agitated ever since the ‘Damul Promotion Association’ was mentioned. She seemed quite venomous. AI suggested keywords appropriate for the augmented reality situation through prompts. These one-time advice pieces could inspire, even if not followed exactly.

The woman recoiled slightly as Gyeoul approached her. The rage subsided, replaced by tension. Understandably, he had blood on his hands. Still, it was unfamiliar. But he approached not with malice. He knelt on one knee to match the seated woman, adopting a gentle tone.

"It's always good to have brave people, but you have to think about the baby. Are you hating the child because of the father's mistake?"

"No, that's not it. I swear!"

"That's good then."

Gyeoul used his clean hand to gently touch the baby. The baby, unlike the filthy appearance of the mother, was quite clean. Cheeks plump, skin white. Gyeoul glanced at the baby's forehead before softly speaking to the mother again.

"He's cute. Is he a boy? What's his name?"

"...Park Jeong-han. For now."

"For now?"

"It's a name given by his father. I've been thinking of changing it."

"What's your name?"

"Song Ye-kyung... it is."

"I'll remember that."

Gyeoul then stood up and looked around.

"Let's take this opportunity for everyone to introduce themselves."

After a round of introductions, Gyeoul returned to the original topic.

"As I was saying, I don't plan to take just healthy men. The safety of those remaining is also important. My plan is this: we need ten people, but half can be less capable in combat. Just fill the numbers."

"Wouldn't that put those going out at risk?"

Ye-kyung's comment was a natural concern. There was no need to hold back a smile now. He maintained a reassuring expression to ease worries.

"The shortfall will be covered by me. I promised to help, remember?"

"But still..."

"Please trust me. I'll ensure no one is left behind."

At that moment, an AI warning appeared.

「As a leader of the community, any public promises you make to your members are considered commitments and community tasks. Successful completion will earn leadership experience points, increase your power share within the community, and boost members' sense of belonging and loyalty. Failure will result in leadership penalties, decrease in community stability and power share, and reduce members' sense of belonging and loyalty. You could lose your leadership position or be expelled from the community. Therefore, as a leader, consider the likelihood of success carefully when making promises. Skills like ‘Influence’ and ‘Deception’ can mitigate these negative effects.」

If his abilities or skill levels were low, such a promise would have been too risky. But not now.

‘Days after Apocalypse’ is designed to evolve from 'struggling to survive alone' to 'becoming a hero who can save others from tragedy.' The accumulation of ‘Talent Advantage’ turns one into a superhero.

"Excuse me for saying this, but... can we really trust you?"

Doubt and skepticism naturally seeped out. Many were sympathetic to the unease. After all, their only knowledge of the boy was from a single external mission and one display of intimidation. It was important not to deny this perception. Gyeoul replied with a light tone.

"Only those who can trust me should step forward. I won't force anyone. If it doesn't work out, even if we're short on numbers, it's fine. We might have to collaborate with other groups, but I'm confident we'll return safely. We'll have to accept a smaller share, though."

His way of speaking gave freedom while implying a burden. He said he wouldn't force anyone, yet also mentioned that only those who trusted him should come forward. How much could they trust him after knowing him for such a short time?

In other words, if they were willing to take the risk, it was an opportunity to earn favor with the young leader. Even in a group of kind-hearted people, the desire to gain an advantage over others is inescapable. It's human nature. He knew this before selling his body, and ‘Days after Apocalypse’ only confirmed it.

For those who weren't persuaded, he subtly imposed a moral obligation.

"I won't decide everything here. After breakfast tomorrow, I'll come back, so please have your minds made up by then. Hopefully, it won't happen, but if there are too many volunteers, I'll have to make the selection."

With that, he left, receiving farewells. There were offers to stay together, but after considering various possibilities, he declined. Giving in to every request doesn't always bring gratitude.

Really. His parents never knew gratitude.

Footnotes:

[1] 할렘가 is the Korean transliteration of "Harlem," a neighborhood in the northern section of the New York City borough of Manhattan. It has been known as a major African-American residential, cultural, and business center since the 1920s Harlem Renaissance.

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