Chapter 21

Chapter 3 For That Handful of Silver Coins (4)

***

Snap!

"Let me tell you this, ahem! I just want to cure my illness."

"Oh, is that so."

"I owe money to someone else in the 14th Special Operations Team, not you."

"Mm, mm. Got it, got it."

"So, don't take advantage of my special situation and treat me like a slave—"

"I won't."

"If you try to force me into your group...."

"I won't. Absolutely not! Don't even think about it! Erase it from your mind!"

One might run around your house saying 'Master~' and causing some trouble, and another might be shouting '14! 14!!!!' while running around with a sofa. I can't handle that. I'll live outside.

As soon as I said I would forgive him, Vex's rampage stopped as if by magic. After that, we had a bit of an awkward conversation, like when you first meet someone. Not asking where they live, not asking what they do, but things like where they mainly farm, if they're doing it on purpose, how old they are, and so on.

"Hey, Vex. It's good that you're cleaning up and organizing things, but is it okay for us to waste time here? They're still gathering in droves, you know?"

"No, it's not. But if we wait, an opportunity will present itself."

"Oh, you know something? As expected, you're competent—"

"Bro."

Snap!

"How can you be a year younger than me with that face!"

"The wasteland environment is a bit harsh, you know?"

"What kind of life do you have to live to end up like that? Were you standing and looking at the sky when the nuke hit?"

"That's a bit too much. People's faces... you know."

"The face value and market value are way off! Your face and your tone of voice are both old! You!"

"Then, do you think I'm young in the wasteland, saying ~yo, ~yo? It's also a survival strategy."

Slumped shoulders.

Stunted physique.

A face full of wrinkles, showing the passage of time.

Chapped lips.

Narrow, squinting eyes.

Twenty-three years old.

'Oh, damn God. Please, just a little bit.'

My game character also gets called an old man, but this is really too much. He's not Benjamin Button.

When I first heard Vex's age and his strange way of speaking, I thought that was the problem.

'Twenty-three.'

'...You've really had it tough, haven't you? Let's try this again. How old are you?'

'Twenty-three.'

'No, wait, can't you just say it? What about your fingers? Left hand for tens, right hand for the rest. How old?'

Swish [23]

'You don't even know numbers?'

'Twenty-three! Twenty-three! I just look older, but I'm in my early twenties!'

'Shit! Then, when the nuke hit, you were—'

'Middle school second year.'

'You son of a bitch! I'll kill you for lying to me again!'

'No, bro! Why don't you believe me!'

'Bro? To believe what you say, I'd have to enter the realm of faith!'

.

.

.

.

After that disastrous conversation, I firmly told Vex not to call me 'bro' under any circumstances. I'm really sorry, but it's creepy. If he runs up to me with that face and calls me 'bro'—

"Bro—"

Snap!

"....Hapban."

Sigh. Inner peace, inner peace.

"Alright, let's finish what we were doing. So, what happens if we wait?"

"Hmm... It's faster to show than to explain."

Vex approached the window and looked outside, then gestured to me.

"How many scavenger groups do you think are out there?"

"Hmm... I can see about... 17? 18?"

"Those are the ones who need to show off their strength by carrying flags. Including those who can't or don't need to, there are about 25 groups gathered."

The professor narrowed his eyes and scanned the fluttering flags.

'Those who don't need to... the size of the job must have attracted the proper scavengers quickly.'

Whew~

"Amazing. Has such a large number of scavengers gathered since the war?"

"No. This place is a scavenger-dense area, so they gathered quickly.

The important thing is that these guys used to fight each other fiercely in the alleys. The ones who would start loading their guns just hearing each other's names are now gathered in one place, preventing each other from entering the treasure room."

The professor nodded. If they had come in waves, they might have fought over who got in first and who got out last. But with mutants swarming inside, they can't rush in and loot, and they need to prepare properly. In the meantime, the scavengers have gathered and are now restraining each other.

"Indeed. In this situation, the ones who go in first to clear the way will only suffer losses."

"Not just losses. They'll get shot in the back and die, right?"

The professor looked at the scavengers facing off. They were standing in a circle around the entrance, guns pointed at each other, muttering. It was clear they wouldn't enter hand in hand.

"Then, eventually, a fight will break out... but will the scavengers who don't want to suffer losses be the first to move?"

"They have no choice."

"Why?"

"The direct reason the treasure room opened is that the Raptor Society is claiming ownership and rushing to set the engine on fire."

"Damn. They're coming too?"

The professor felt a headache coming on.

The Raptor Society. A group that rivals the Dome in size, they are a highly organized large-scale raiding group, standing in opposition to the Dome. Most of the upper echelons are former soldiers, making their discipline very strict, their skills even stricter, and their approach to profit even more so.

"....How long will it take?"

"From what I heard, they're bringing their main force and are prepared to bleed, so they should arrive in a day at the latest."

"24 hours... the scavengers will be under a lot of pressure."

Tap, tap, tap

Vex stacked small stones, then knocked them down, repeating the process as he spoke.

"No, we have even less time. The Happy Blind have already moved before the Raptor Society."

"What? Why are those fanatics... Oh, this is an artifact from the old world."

"Right. If the Happy Blind move, the Artist Union will naturally follow."

"....This is really a big event. How many big shots are already here?"

The Happy Blind and the Artist Union. Both groups rush to such old-world artifacts with a fire in their eyes. The Happy Blind, extreme purists, want to burn everything in sight, while the Artist Union wants to preserve as much as possible. Both are prominent groups in the wasteland.

The world, divided into countless small groups living in shelters and slowly going mad, has given rise to dozens, even hundreds, of such bizarrely ideologically driven groups.

"We should gather what we need and get out within 16 hours of entering, at the very least."

Vex knocked down his neatly arranged junk and pulled out a dusty calorie bar, offering it to me. I took out my own hard calorie bar from my pocket and shook it.

"I have one."

"Alright then. Get some rest, Hapban. Once we start, there won't be any time to rest."

"Right, I should rest while I can. I'm already tired from the travel. Hey, Vex. Got any water?"

"Not right now, but if you lick the cracked pillar over there at dawn, you can drink the dew that forms—"

"Never mind. Phew, life is tough outside the house."

The professor leaned against his bag and closed his eyes. As Vex said, getting enough rest when you can is one of the key elements to survival.

***

Bang!

Click!

The sound of gunfire woke the professor, who reflexively pulled out the gun attached to his bag.

'It's starting.'

Shouldering his backpack and reaching the window, he saw Vex already up and observing the outside.

"Ah, Hapban."

"....Didn't sleep?"

"The noise woke me up. It seems to have started."

Boom!

"....Indeed. What a spectacular signal flare."

From a distance, the sounds of explosions and gunfire began to reach them.

"Hapban. Do you need anything else? I don't have much, but if there's something you want to take—"

"Barking."

Thud

The professor lifted his bag and dumped everything except water, food, wires, and weapons.

"We're not taking what we need, but going in to get what we need. Right?"

Vex smiled at the professor's rogue-like behavior.

***

"Gr, gruuu!"

"Thanks to the gunfire, we don't need to hide our noise!"

Thud

"Damn, this is good."

Pierce!

"Choke!"

"Someone with a similar—"

Swish!

"—idea, but the problem is there are more of them than expected."

"Why did they have to draw attention with guns and die?"

While the professor was twisting the neck of a scavenger hiding near the entrance, Vex was slitting the throat of another.

"Still impressive, though. You're from the 14th Special Operations Team, after all. Even though you don't know the area as well as I do, you're keeping up with me and even spotting and neutralizing enemies faster. What was your main role in the 14th? Stealth? Assault? Long-range support? Or team leader?"

"Such a mess... there's nothing here. Huh? Me? Not that impressive, really."

The professor, searching the dead scavenger's pockets, spoke with a disappointed look.

"Supply. I was a supply soldier for the 14th Special Operations Team."

"What? A supply soldier in a special forces unit? What... what was it again? How valuable each ally is in marking enemies in that area, and you used such a precious person as a supply soldier? That doesn't make sense!"

"Right? It doesn't make sense, but the military is full of such absurdities. Later, I heard that a high-ranking official had tampered with the documents of the people originally meant to join the 14th Special Operations Team, making them his personal guards, and in the process, I ended up joining. Things were pretty messed up back then."

The professor sighed, recalling the past.

"I was the least useful member of the special forces. At first, the other members cursed me until their tongues were sore, but eventually, I became at least not a burden."

Boom!

Thud

The professor and Vex flattened themselves on the ground. The smell of unrefined gunpowder from a makeshift bomb filled the air. Peeking behind the wall, the dust from the explosion was still thick.

Thud!

Without a word, the two simultaneously rushed in. Alongside them, a few others who had been hiding nearby or waiting for an opportunity during the battle moved in the same direction.

'For now... we don't need to restrain them. It's hard for just the two of us to deal with all the mutants inside.'

The professor instinctively raised his gun, which had been pointing down.

"Gr, gruuu—"

"Raaah—"

"Mutants!"

"Legs! Aim for the legs!"

The shouts of scavengers who had gone in first began to echo from not far away.

"Vex! Go in and set up before we reach the security room you mentioned yesterday, in a place that won't expose us! Got it!"

"Alright."

"From now on, we'll communicate with hand signals, not voices! Remember! If we don't want to deal with all of them, we can't get caught, even if it means dying!"

With that, the two ran into the pitch-black darkness without a word.

***