WeTried Translations

Translator: Coughing Baby

Editor: Coughing Baby

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

Chapter 232: Suspended Sentence (4)

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The cathedral was small, but reverent. The sun, now close to the horizon, pierced the stained glass. My lord be praised through sister water. The hymn carved above and below the round window was unusual, mainly because its meaning was not easy to guess.

A loud pounding came from inside the chapel.

Morales dipped a hand into the holy water font and made the sign of the cross. The children copied the Sergeant’s gesture. Gyeoul slowed down and signaled for them to watch the rear. He would take the front alone.

The altar holding the crucifix was stained with filthy blood. The mutants were pounding on the door to the right of the altar. It was probably the priest’s quarters.

Two mutants had also been clinging to the confessional near the entrance, but they snapped their heads toward Gyeoul. Crack! Immediate gunfire punched holes through their heads. The two bodies collapsed with heavy thuds. The group ahead did not turn around. They had deafened themselves with their own noise.

Without even a ghoul among them, this was all they amounted to.

After shooting down every remaining mutant, Gyeoul advanced between the disordered pews. Remains lay scattered everywhere. Some had been in a state unsuitable for infection even while alive. Others had been the weakest after mutation and had been eaten by the rest. Morales and Schultz came closer while soothing the frightened children. The prisoner, both hands bound behind his back, was dragged along like livestock headed for slaughter. Crushed by the death-thick air, his eyes rolled wildly. His pale face shone with cold sweat.

The door to the clerical quarters opened by pulling, but the stupid mutants had only pounded and shoved at it. The doorknob felt strangely heavy. When Gyeoul put his strength into it, the door opened with a dragging sound. A corpse hanging by the neck from the handle on the other side was pulled out with it. It was a man in ordinary clothes.

This could not be all.

Gyeoul turned away from the empty quarters. When he pushed aside the blood in the central aisle with his toe, scrape marks appeared. Traces left by something heavy, like a box, being dragged. Following them with 「Tracking」 led him to the left side of the altar. The wall that jutted outward was lighter in color than the rest. It was likely a section added during expansion work.

If they had expanded it around the beginning of the apocalypse, there was only one likely use.

When he opened a square door in the floor that led underground, gray heads came into view at once. Living death swarmed below the ladder. Kyaaaak! The monsters, seeing light for the first time in ages, went wild at Gyeoul. They shoved at one another so hard that not one of them could climb the ladder. Gyeoul met their shrunken pupils and shot them dead one by one.

“It’s... an air-raid shelter.”

Morales frowned at the brain matter pooled below the vertical passage.

“Stay here. I’ll go down and check.”

After giving the order, Gyeoul hopped down. Crunch. The ground caved in beneath his combat boots. His weight, equipment included, was enough to crush the layered corpses. A stench splashed in every direction.

Another door appeared. This one, though, was made of sturdy metal. A closed-circuit camera was attached to the ceiling. He waved at the lens, but there was no response. Was it not working? The power had been cut in the other buildings earlier, but a facility this serious seemed like it ought to have its own supply system.

Bang, bang, bang. He knocked hard in measured beats and shouted.

“We’re here to rescue you! Is anyone inside?”

His enhanced hearing caught an unseen commotion. It was not the clamor of the plague. It was the sound of all kinds of people talking over one another. A moment later, the door opened and a priest in vestments appeared. Under the poor lighting, Gyeoul could also see people in a wide space, split into two sides and aiming guns at one another.

The priest spread one hand toward Gyeoul, then cried out to the people in joy.

“Look, everyone! This is the will of the Lord!”

...Huh?

What the hell was going on? It had been a while since Gyeoul felt this thrown off.

Of the two sides facing off, one side was all prison uniforms, except for one person who looked like a hostage. The other side was mostly in ordinary clothes, with two uniformed police officers and one sheriff mixed in. Neither side had many weapons. Of course, that alone was enough for them to kill one another.

“Lieutenant Han Gyeoul? Lieutenant! Lieutenant! Lieutenant! Thank you! Thank you so much!”

A bearded officer burst into tears. The surge of emotion spread like an epidemic. Frenzy toward a hero.

By contrast, the prisoners went visibly pale. A huge bald man with a spider tattoo crawling up to the back of his neck glanced sideways at Gyeoul. His muzzle was still aimed at the officers. His trembling hand was not only fear, but inner conflict too. He was wondering whether to immediately switch aim and shoot the boy officer. His rising and falling 「Threat Level」 was proof of that. There were plenty of other clues too.

“There’s no need to fight anymore! As promised, everyone put down your weapons! Hurry!”

The priest stood shouting at the center of the crossing lines of fire. When the priest spread both arms, the faint shadow formed the shape of a cross. A nun helped the priest. But neither side let go of their killing intent. If anything, it drew even tighter. The sheriff aiming a gun at the bald man screamed at Gyeoul.

“Lieutenant! Help us! You have to shoot those things right now! They’re rapists and murderers! Father, move out of the way! Sister, you too! You’re in the way!”

The bald man flared up. Blood vessels squirmed under his scalp.

“Fuck you, you fucking pig bastard! Who the hell are you telling to kill who?”

Then a man behind him, looking like he had done his fair share of drugs, shot a hand up.

“All of you shut your damn mouths! Touch this and you and us all die! Huh!”

He was holding a grenade. The safety pin was already gone. Goddammit. Where did that even come from? The officer holding a pistol clenched their teeth. Their breathing was rough. Their eyes were wide, fixed only on the grenade. There was no telling when they might pull the trigger by accident. The civilians trembled and sent pleading looks toward Gyeoul.

The prisoners were the same.

From above the vertical passage, Morales shouted.

“What’s going on down there? Should we come down too?”

“No! Stay there! There’s trouble, but I’ll handle it!”

While Gyeoul stopped them, the priest appealed to the prisoners through tears.

“You mustn’t do this! Do not commit sin! We can all leave alive together!”

It did no good. The drug addict shouted back, telling the priest not to spout bullshit.

“Hey, Lieutenant!”

Gyeoul answered the bald man’s call.

“I’m a Major. What’s your name?”

“...Hunt. Caleb Hunt.”

Hunt swallowed dryly and asked.

“If you’re here, that means outside is safe now, right?”

“I did kill everything I ran into on the way here.”

“...You’re awfully relaxed in a situation like this.”

“A situation like this?”

The huge man shrank back at the sight of Gyeoul tilting his head. The other prisoners went even paler. Perhaps thinking this was a fight for control, Hunt scowled and growled.

“Bluffing won’t help you! No matter how great you are, what are you going to do if the grenade goes off?”

“So?”

“Let’s make a deal.”

“....”

“I know, fuck, if you only look at us right now, we look like a bunch of fucking sons of bitches, but we haven’t killed anyone since we got here. We even did that goddamn confession shit! After getting trapped down here, we just figured we should have some fun with each other before we died! Because we thought we were dead anyway! Fuck!”

Gyeoul had a rough idea of what had happened. Perhaps gaining confidence from Gyeoul’s silence, Hunt wiped the sweat from his forehead and bald scalp and continued.

“You have subordinates outside, right? If you’re a Major, you must have at least a Company. Hand over enough weapons for all of us. Ammunition and food too! If you show enough sincerity, we’ll let those people go without trouble. We’ll release the hostage last. We’re staying here. You’d better not try anything cute.”

“What are you going to do with only your side left here? You won’t last long.”

“What do you care if we die or not?”

“Well. I can’t leave armed criminals behind. I don’t know when, where, or whom you might harm. So I can’t accept that demand. To begin with, I don’t have enough weapons to hand out.”

“Then what the hell do you want us to do? You want to watch everyone die? Huh?!”

“Throw down your guns and surrender. I promise I won’t kill you. I will restrain you, though.”

“Crazy...”

“Don’t be stupid. I’m saying I’ll protect even you.”

Gyeoul changed his tone.

“I wasn’t standing still because I was scared of one stupid grenade. You don’t look like you have the guts to let go of it in the first place, but even if you do, it doesn’t matter. I can cover it with a corpse before it explodes. That corpse will be one of yours. Guns? I’m confident I can kill all of you before you fire the first shot.”

The drug addict panted.

“Y-you think that’s possible?”

“Why? You think it’s impossible? If you doubt me, ignore what I said. Your body will learn the result.”

This was a threat he made after finishing the calculations. The three seconds it took the fuse to burn down was more than enough. When Pequod had tested his reaction speed, Captain Fowler had evaluated Gyeoul this way: he could face five enemies in front of him at the same time. That had even been a conclusion made on the assumption that the enemies were regular soldiers.

“Everyone, please listen to Han Gyeoul.”

The elderly nun pleaded with them.

“We all promised, didn’t we? That we would wait only until today. That if salvation came before then, we would take it as the Lord’s will. Everything that happens in this world is the providence of the holy Lord. Han Gyeoul being here right now is no coincidence. It doesn’t matter whether someone has faith or not.”

The nun slowly approached the drug addict.

“Fuck off, you whore! Want me to take you hostage too? Huh?”

The prisoners’ muzzles turned toward the nun. But when the priest began approaching as well, the confusion deepened. Who were they supposed to aim at?

“Everything is the Lord’s providence, my ass! Then are those fucking zombie bastards the Lord’s providence too? Huh? I’ll fucking kill all of you! Fuck off! I said fuck off! Touch me and everyone dies! We’re all going to hell!”

The ex-convict’s already-thin thread of reason snapped, and the finger on the trigger began to pull.

His pistol exploded.

At the end of the rifle Gyeoul had shouldered, a faint curl of smoke rose from the suppressor.

In the silent underground, the sound of a shell casing rolling felt lonely. Three prisoners clutched their hands and arms and groaned. Blood dripped. Shards from the shattered pistols had embedded in them. Even though they were scattered targets, to Gyeoul, they were all in one direction. The time it took him to adjust his aim and fire three times was no more than an instant.

“Don’t even dream of it.”

The drug addict who had received the warning squeezed his eyes shut. His trembling hand slowly lowered and stopped near his chest. No one blocked Gyeoul as he approached while maintaining his shoulder hold and aim with one hand. It was because of the shooting he had just shown. Hunt pressed himself against the wall and moved only his eyes.

Gyeoul’s hand closed over the grenade.

Cheers erupted from the other side.

“Sheriff. Please take care of the prisoners. But don’t shoot them.”

At Gyeoul’s words, Hunt ground his teeth.

“Just kill me instead. I’d rather die here than get dragged back and treated like an animal again. A man has his pride.”

His voice was furious, but resentment soaked through it. Puzzled, Gyeoul asked.

“Animal? What do you mean by that?”

“Fuck! Forced labor for death-row inmates! Nobody thinks of us as people! Even if we are sons of bitches!”

Forced labor... Gyeoul frowned slightly. This was the first he had heard of it in this world setting.

============================ Author’s Note ============================

#Q&A

Q. Brunhart: @Will equipment like powered exoskeletons appear later too?

A. Anything beyond the Centurion is impossible because of power issues.

Q. Calpis: @I went to Yeongpoong Bookstore and had a heart attack when I saw The Little Prince in the Ossuary stuck on the bookshelf. When I came to my senses, the receipt and volumes 1 and 2 were in my bag. What do I do now??

A. If you light it on fire when using it as a pot stand, your food will stay warm the whole time you eat. :)

Q. Omitted: @This suddenly came to mind, but the word linjeossi is used for NCsoft games... Did you perhaps play that game?

A. I think I tried it very briefly when I was in elementary school.

Q. Ostwald: @Will the day ever come when Gyeoul goes to Korean soil in the game?

A. Well... the original route was for him to go because of satellite bases near Fort Roberts, but I may omit it for length control reasons.

Q. KTH: @The Control AI realizes Gyeoul’s heart and pretends to be Gyeoul after Gyeoul’s contract period ends... I think that kind of ending would be fine too...

A. That wouldn’t be a happy ending, so... hehe... As I’ve said several times, this novel will end with everyone

having a happy ending together.

Q. MasterKalsolum: @For the sake of replenishing the author’s childlike innocence, I would like to send you a bundle of unhealthy calamansi drinks. Would you be willing to try them?

A. Haha, thank you. I’ll accept only the thought. If I received a gift like that, I think I’d feel too burdened to sleep.

Q. Iribless: @What happens if infected get hit by radiation? Do they mutate or die?

A. It depends on the individual. Some die, and some become ghouls. There are other effects too, but I think there will probably be a chance to explain that in the story... probably.

Footnotes:

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