WeTried Translations

Translator: Coughing Baby

Editor: Coughing Baby

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

Chapter 395: Change (12)

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Washington in December had been white since the 9th. Two inches piled up on the day of the first snow, and around the 15th, the day of the Electoral College vote, nearly ten inches came pouring down. Temperatures stayed below average on top of that, so everywhere one went, the scenery was white. The conditions were awful for restoration work, yet the city quickly regained its old appearance. That was thanks to the flood of money and manpower poured into it. If there was one minor problem, it was that almost all of that budget had been raised through the auction of Gyeoul's commemorative coins, so traces of Gyeoul remained in several places where reconstruction had been completed.

“No, fine, I can understand the 「Horse and Prisoner」 statue.”

Gyeoul sounded troubled.

“But isn't the commemorative plaque for 「The Road Lieutenant Colonel Han Gyeoul Smashed」 a little too much?”

He was talking about the road west of the Walter E. Washington Convention Center. Anne, who had looked serious until then, burst out laughing.

“It doesn't actually say smashed. The meaning is close enough, though. Are the other ones all right with you?”

“Relatively. Still, I don't want to see them twice. It's embarrassing.”

“What is there to be embarrassed about? It's only natural to commemorate someone who donated money in some way. If anything, that much is mild. You gave more than twenty million dollars in total.”

“Well... if I think of it as twenty million dollars' worth of embarrassment, it does feel a little lighter.”

At Gyeoul's exaggerated complaint, Anne laughed aloud again. Bureau personnel passing by slowed their steps as they looked back and forth between Gyeoul and Anne. After catching her breath, Anne asked,

“This is your first time at FBI Headquarters, right?”

“Yes. Believe it or not, I've been living a good life so far.”

“That's too bad. It would have been nice if we'd had time to show you around.”

“Having you come meet me is enough, Anne. More importantly, how is that man Markert doing? Does it really look like he knows something?”

Lieutenant Markert. As a checkpoint chief, he had cooperated in bringing live mutants into the safe zone, and three days ago, he had been arrested while stealing food in a small town called Edgefield, South Carolina. According to news reports, he looked terrible after hiding and traveling such a long distance.

At Gyeoul's question, Anne frowned slightly and shook her head.

“It's too early to be certain, but personally, I doubt there's much there. The rebels have been wiped out anyway, and their supporters are collapsing in disarray. We also arrested every last remnant of the True Patriots. It's hard to imagine any important information still exists in a situation like this.”

“Hmm...”

“We're only checking just in case. He says he'll tell us what he knows only if he meets you... It's not a difficult condition, so we decided to play along. It also means we don't have to waste time on unnecessary interrogation. Anyway, thank you for cooperating when there's a good chance this will be a wasted trip.”

“There's nothing to thank me for. Of course I should help. I'm curious what he'll say too.”

He meant it. This was the shabby end of a long, ill-fated tie that had begun in Fort Roberts and Paso Robles. It might not be so bad to see the face of a foolish racist one last time.

Anne led Gyeoul to the interrogation room. He had no reason to have visited such a place before, but it felt familiar, probably because he had seen scenes like this so often in movies and other media. Through the one-way glass, Gyeoul observed Markert. Perhaps because of two months on the run, he had lost a great deal of weight. More wrinkles had formed on his face and forehead, and the area near the crown of his head was bald.

An investigator other than Anne, who had arrived ahead of them and was waiting, handed Gyeoul a receiver. After confirming that he had put it on and that it was receiving properly, the investigator spread a hand toward the room.

“Please go in.”

Gyeoul nodded lightly, opened the door, and entered. Clack! The moment Markert saw Gyeoul, he sprang up as if having a seizure. But his handcuffs were chained to the table, and his feet were shackled as well, so he could not leave the spot. He only glared at Gyeoul with eyes full of rage. Gyeoul stood beside the chair opposite him, placed one hand on the backrest, tucked the other into his pocket, and greeted him.

“It has been a while, Lieutenant. I can't say I'm glad to see you.”

“...”

Markert's gaze moved downward. His breathing grew rough. He was looking at Gyeoul's rank insignia and combat uniform. Trembling all over, he collapsed back into his chair and clawed at his own hair. A beast-like groan leaked out between his clenched teeth. Loss and despair before they became words. He was wearing prison clothes. Officially, he was still a soldier, but that status promised him only the possibility of execution by firing squad under military law. And that possibility was fairly high. Public opinion demanding judgment was too fierce. The terror spread by necrotoxin had returned as tremendous public outrage.

After waiting quietly, Gyeoul asked,

“I heard you know something important. You said you would tell only me?”

“...That's right.”

“Say it. If it's truly valuable information, it might save your life.”

Though he still would not escape growing old and dying in prison. Gyeoul swallowed the rest. Markert spoke with shaking hands.

“Sit down.”

“Is it long enough that I need to sit while I listen?”

When he asked, veins suddenly stood out on Markert's neck.

“Sit! Show me respect! Don't look down at me like that!”

His panting filled the quiet room. Gyeoul stared at him for a moment, let out a short sigh, and sat in the chair. Then he tapped the table with his fingertips. Tok, tok. A slow rhythm joined the silence.

“Show you respect... Not funny, even as a joke. Who do you think you are to say that?”

“I don't acknowledge you as my superior. You jumped-up little brat!”

“Enough. If you called me here just to say things like that, let's end this. Is that what you want? You don't look like you'd enjoy a firing squad that much.”

Markert shut his mouth. Unsuitably, his eyes reddened. It was a tedious silence. After waiting, Gyeoul pretended to stand instead of urging him on.

“Wait!”

Markert shouted in a hurry.

“I know one of the secret bases used by the bastards who recruited me! There must be something there! Someone hiding! Or an additional stockpile of the toxin! So guarantee me a reduced sentence! How much can you reduce it?”

Gyeoul relayed the investigator's words coming through the receiver.

“As I already said, what matters is the value of the information. This base you claim to know might be one we've already found, and even if it isn't, we won't know what's inside until we search it. If there's only an empty warehouse there, that wouldn't be enough to pay for your life, would it?”

After hesitating, Markert gave the location without confidence. Gyeoul looked at the glass like a black mirror. Anne's answer came from beyond it, after she must have looked up the information. It was a base discovered early in the investigation. All they had found there were several trailers believed to have been used for mutant transport.

Gyeoul slowly shook his head at Markert.

“They say that place was searched long ago. Do you have any other information?”

“...”

The prisoner's disappointment was weaker than expected. As if he had not expected much from the start. He only looked around anxiously, then demanded that Gyeoul come closer. Gyeoul did not want to, but he let Markert whisper as he wished.

“There is money.”

Markert whispered.

“A fairly large amount. I hid it in Fort Roberts, but only I know the exact location. There are a lot of valuables too, things the Chinese handed over, like gold and watches, not just cash. Altogether it should easily be worth a few hundred thousand dollars. I'll tell you where it is, so save me. You can do that easily. You're close to the president, aren't you? First, delay the execution, then ask for me to be pardoned later.”

Stunned, Gyeoul straightened back up.

“Are you serious right now? No, did you really think an offer like that would work? You thought you could bribe me with a few hundred thousand dollars? Seriously? Are you in your right mind?”

Judging by the way Markert gritted his teeth, this seemed to have been the real reason he had called Gyeoul. This time, Markert's complexion truly worsened. With a stiff expression and eyes full of resentment, a single tear rolled down his face.

“You have to save me.”

“Why?”

“Because I ended up like this because of you!”

He screamed.

“You took everything from me! My honor! My future! Even my friends and family! You damned hypocritical son of a bitch! After taking all that and driving me out, that should have been enough! Why did you push those filthy Chinese bastards and bitches into suing me and corner me even further? They said I extorted valuables and committed rape? Bullshit! Whether it was money or women, I only took what they gave me! Back then they did it because they liked it, and now they pretend to be victims? You should have stopped that! There's no way you didn't know that's what those people are like! But you still used those stinking monkeys! To get revenge on me! To ruin my life! So all of this happened because of you! My actions were self-defense!”

“...Self-defense?”

“That's right! Self-defense! I was desperate! They were unavoidable actions to survive! If not for you, I would never have had a reason to cooperate in bringing in mutants in the first place! Then there would have been no necrotoxin! You made that toxin! You provided the cause! Admit that you are responsible for the rebellion, Lieutenant Colonel Han Gyeoul!”

After pouring out sophistry so absurd it almost felt novel, Markert buried his face in both hands and sobbed with his shoulders shaking. Gyeoul stood. He did not feel like saying anything in particular. Not a correction, not a rebuke. What was the point of wasting logic on someone who was clearly insane?

Hearing the sound of his departing footsteps, Markert jumped up and shouted,

“Don't go! Don't go! Don't go!”

The chain of his handcuffs pulled taut. The chair fell over with a loud crash. Gyeoul paid no attention and left the interrogation room. Even after he closed the door, he could hear Markert crying out for him not to go. Anne, who had been beyond the glass wall, met Gyeoul with a complicated expression.

“Good work. I thought there wouldn't be much, but this is a little... I'm sorry.”

“What do you have to be sorry for, Anne? It was something we had to check either way.”

“...Let's go. I'll walk you to the parking lot.”

After asking another investigator to handle the prisoner's transfer, she took Gyeoul to the underground parking lot. The Humvee he had ridden on the way here and its driver were waiting. Just as Gyeoul was about to get in, Anne left him with a regretful farewell.

“I'll contact you in the evening if I have time.”

Gyeoul turned back slightly and nodded. He answered with a faint smile instead of words.

Outside, snow had started falling again at some point. The Humvee left FBI Headquarters and drove less than a kilometer west. Even with the window closed, the faint carol he heard came from the large Christmas tree in The Ellipse, in front of the White House lawn. The tree, whose lights stayed on even during the day until the New Year, drew many spectators. In the citizens strolling as if on walks and taking photos with their families, no scar of treason could be felt.

What greeted Gyeoul after he returned to the garrison was Jin-seok in a fury. Facing three soldiers breaking out in a cold sweat despite this weather, he ground his teeth and growled.

“Your Company commander is disappointed in you.”

Since he was speaking Korean, something must have happened that would be troublesome if it became known. Puzzled, Gyeoul approached, and the soldiers who noticed him turned even paler. They must have done something very wrong. Gyeoul asked Jin-seok,

“What happened?”

“There was a minor problem.”

“I have plenty of time.”

At Gyeoul's urging, Jin-seok hesitated, then let out a deep sigh and pointed to two of the three in order.

“First, these two brought unauthorized pornography into the quarters.”

“Pornography?”

“Yes.”

Bewildered, Gyeoul looked at the two soldiers who had been pointed out.

“Uh, that is definitely wrong, but is it something for the Company commander to get this angry about?”

“I am sorry, but the battalion commander appears in that pornography.”

“...”

In front of Gyeoul, who was left speechless, Jin-seok added with an anguished, crumpled face.

“And I appear in it too.”

Footnotes:

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