Chapter 62

Chapter 5 Inside Out (9)

Insomnia is said to occur most often when a person fails to do something they think they should. The guilt over that thing endlessly stimulates them, preventing them from falling asleep. Conversely, it means that someone who has done their work can have a very refreshing sleep.

“Hmmm~ Ahhhh. What a good morning. I feel like I could fly, it’s so refreshing!”

That’s exactly how I felt. Although I was tortured severely by the two thugs who were extremely dissatisfied with the name I came up with after my call with the dome staff, what could they do? The name 'Big Dream' had already been sent over. The Big Dream Caravan. Hmm, it’s good. The pronunciation fits perfectly in my mouth.

Everything was going well. A pleasant morning, a refreshing glass of water to wake me up, and then,

“Grrr! Ugh!”

even Ian, who was tightly bound and writhing beside me.

“Oh, Metal-jo. Good morning? How are the parts I tied up? Not uncomfortable, are they?”

“Grrr! Gah!”

“Hey... Professor?”

“Vex! Good morning?”

“Huh? Oh, good morning. But... why is Jo tied up?”

“Ah, this? It’s nothing. I just had to calm him down a bit this morning as a precaution. Shall we go? We have a very busy day ahead.”

Most people in the wasteland wake up early in the morning. Since electricity is scarce, the time when the sun is up is the time for activity, so there are hardly any late sleepers. That’s why the professor, feeling refreshed after waking up before sunrise, bound Ian tightly while he was sleeping to make the day ahead more pleasant, and greeted Vex with a cheerful face.

Creak! Creak! Creak!

“Ugh! Grrr! Ugh! Gah!”

Every time the professor and Vex scratched something with the objects in their hands, Ian, who was bound and gagged, let out animal-like sounds.

“Hap, do we really have to erase this? Look at that guy’s eyes. The moment we untie him, he’ll come at us to kill us.”

“Then do you want to drive around in the dome’s jurisdiction in a raptor-marked raptor armed truck? If you don’t want RPGs to fly at you in batches as you pass by each block, scrub it clean. The dome’s inspector is coming soon. When the dome kids say ‘soon,’ they mean as soon as possible with all their might!”

That’s why, at the crack of dawn, they were using rough metal pieces to scratch Ian’s armed truck. Metal-jo’s affection for his vehicle seemed unusually strong, so they bound him as a precaution while he was sleeping. It was fortunate they did. Every time a scratch appeared on the truck, Ian howled like an animal, as if his skin was being peeled off alive.

“Think of it this way. It’s a bit dented, but once we scrape it all off and write ‘Big Dream’ on it nicely, it’ll look good.”

Squeak-squeak-

“Gahhhhhh!!!”

The professor deliberately took his time, slowly scratching the truck to give Ian time to savor the sound. Indeed, revenge is sweet.

***

The unexpected event occurred after the work was finished, and they had barely calmed Ian down with the promise of helping to find parts to fix the broken Hummer. The three of them were busy pumping water with the manual pump.

Creak-creak-

“Hey, Professor, do we really need this much water? I heard one of the reasons why people flock to Sector 47 is the abundant groundwater. We could get enough with the pump built into the shelter, right?”

“Shh! Jo! Hold it! Something’s coming!”

At Vex’s words, the three of them stopped their work and listened. Indeed, not long after, heavy footsteps and mechanical sounds began to approach the shelter, even audible on the soft sand.

“Alright, let’s go inside. It seems we have a visitor.”

It was just past eight in the morning. The dome’s inspector seemed to be as diligent as rumored.

***

Squeak-squeak-

“Is that... it?”

“Wow. Hap, I’ve only heard about this. This is the first time I’m seeing it in person.”

“Me too. I’ve lived in Sector 47 for quite a while, but this is the first time I’m seeing it.”

As soon as they finished arming and stepped outside the concealment area, something bipedal was approaching not far away. It looked human, but a bulky black frame enveloped its entire body.

“Exosuit... A fitting welcome from the money gods’ friends.”

“Right. One of the few things in this world more expensive than a generator.”

“Jo, if we fight that, we’ll lose, right?”

“What do you mean by ‘fight’? Even if the rumors are only half true, that thing is a monster.”

The professor had to agree with Ian. He had actually driven one when he was in the dome. Equipped with shoulder-mounted missile launchers and strength-assist functions capable of lifting a car, it also had a small shield generator that, when powered up during combat, could ignore gunfire and charge forward. The dome’s obsession with technological civilization. The war machine that made the dome the top group in the wasteland. That’s what was approaching the shelter.

‘Height about 2.3 meters. Back in the day, only massive war machines existed, but now they’re producing smaller models. The miniaturization is likely to extend the operational limit.’

Seeing this, it felt absurd that the Raptor Society would be intimidated by the dome, but in fact, the exosuit is a very troublesome item in the wasteland.

It requires expert maintenance when it breaks down, which happens frequently in the dusty wasteland, making it hard to operate for long periods. Even if there were no such issues, it consumes a terrifying amount of battery, with a maximum operational time of only 8 hours. If a sandstorm hits, the shield must be activated, cutting the time in half. If the defense output is increased to block 7.62mm rounds, it’s halved again. In practical combat, the operational limit is only 1 hour, making it a death trap in prolonged battles.

That’s why the dome, unlike the Raptors, chose to gradually expand their territory by taking over cities one by one and making the surrounding areas their jurisdiction. Even with only 1 hour of operational time, they can dominate almost invincibly during that hour.

‘The reason the Raptors prefer heavy weapons like mortars, miniguns, and flamethrowers is because of this. A small rifle can’t even scratch it.’

The inspector approaching their home was wearing one of these. The suit and the user were both drenched in blood, indicating they had likely fought mutants on the way.

‘Or maybe he deliberately wore it to intimidate. The exosuit is a symbol of the dome’s military power.’

Squeak-squeak- Click!

The inspector, who had walked up to them, opened the exosuit’s frame and stepped out, extending his hand. I shook his blood-soaked hand firmly and said,

“Pleased to meet you. I’m the representative of the Big Dream Caravan, Professor. You can call me Professor.”

“Hahaha. Nice to meet you. I’m from the Environmental Management Team of Sector 47, under the dome’s inspection bureau. You’re the Professor I’ve only heard about?”

“Do you... know me?”

“Of course. I’m a fan. I’ve been watching your broadcasts.”

The man, who had shaken hands with the professor and put on a crooked hat, was smiling broadly.

***

Second Inspector of Sector 47’s Inspection Bureau, Ezal Rayden, didn’t want to miss this opportunity.

“Junior, are you sure you can go alone?”

“Yeah, that’s right, Ezal. I saw the intel. It’s a dangerous area.”

“Sigh, senior, worrying is part of my nature. Who got the inspector position by just sitting around? Honestly, I could go anywhere in Sector 47 with just my bare hands and a pistol. But Kimi kept nagging, so I’m wearing the suit.”

“Yeah! There are also rumors that some spice merchants from Sector 43 are part of this caravan, and the group’s name is BDSM! They’re obviously crazy!”

“Come on, don’t be so harsh. Respect their preferences.”

Squeak-squeak- Click!

Ezal climbed into the suit assigned to him and activated it with his biometric ID.

“Besides, we’re not an organization with a lot of spare hands. If we all leave for this, the executive board might cause trouble.”

“That’s true. Sigh. Even in this world, there are still political types.”

“Hahaha. Once you embrace democracy, it comes with it. You have to accept it. Well, I’ll be back soon! Take care while I’m gone!”

“Alright! Be careful!”

“Ezal! If something seems wrong, sound the alarm first! Got it?”

Ezal left the dome, receiving worried farewells from his colleagues. His destination was the shelter of the BDSM Caravan, which had registered yesterday on the outskirts of Sector 47.

Actually, there was nothing to worry about, Ezal thought.

The Type 1 mutants wandering around Sector 47 could be easily dispatched with a kick while wearing the suit. The psycho gangs could be avoided by staying clear of their territory. Survivors? If someone attacks an inspector right next to the dome’s city, they’re truly insane. There was no real threat to worry about.

That’s why Ezal insisted on going alone to the professor’s shelter. An opportunity to officially visit the personal shelter of the streamer known as 'Professor.' Not very dangerous. Such opportunities are rare.

‘I was actually quite curious. He never showed his face, used a voice modulator, and never revealed any personal information, but suddenly he started a caravan and began external activities.’

Dome inspectors, who often meet outsiders, are required to study psychology. Ezal saw that the professor was a typical individual survivor with a very closed-off personality, but suddenly he started external activities, revealing personal information.

‘They say a person changes when they’re about to die. Maybe he’s sick?’

All these questions could be answered by meeting him in person.

“Gahhhhhh!”

Smack!

“Hey, I need to talk to the cleaning crew. There are still Type 1 mutants wandering around near the densely populated area.”

Again, the bickering of the two men confirmed his suspicions. A Raptor armed truck, one of the largest vehicles. When such a truck moves, at least one Raptor legion is assigned to guard it. Why was it here?

As soon as he entered, Ezal saw Ian approaching, muttering, and explaining.

“We took it and ran.”

“...What?”

“Are you young man’s ears full of sand? We took it and ran! When we left the Raptors!”

“Ah... So the person in front of me...”

“Call him Metal-jo.”

“Mr. Metal-jo is from the Raptor Society?”

“Of course. I was disillusioned with those guys and left. This jaw is from that time.”

He had come here without much thought but had gathered significant information. Ezal took out his notebook and wrote, [Spice Merchant, Metal-jo - Raptor Origin, Caution Required] / [BDSM - Affluent], then looked around more.

Rustle-rustle-

[Facility Defense Capability - Low to Medium - One defensive turret, one active defense automatic cannon.]

An ordinary medium-sized, standard shelter. With three members, the fact that they owned multiple vehicles was extremely luxurious. There didn’t seem to be any more information to gather from the outside.

Ezal sketched the surroundings in his notebook and maintained a bright expression as he spoke to the professor.

“First, let me explain the purpose of today’s inspection. As you know, the dome aims to restore law and order in the wasteland and stabilize the world. In that context, we collect information on the people in the areas near the city to determine if they pose a threat to the sector’s environment. We understand that people in our era are very sensitive about personal information, but please consider it a cost of living in the safe environment created by the dome in Sector 47.”

“A safe environment... in Sector 47, which has the most psycho gangs of all sectors. Is that a joke? A black joke?”

“Hahaha, no. The fact that psycho gangs exist means the average lifespan in this sector is very high. Usually, people die before they go that crazy.”

Ezal faced the professor’s psychological warfare without backing down, steadily progressing with his duties.

“Alright, since you introduced yourselves as a caravan, let’s start by checking your main products.”

“Do we really have to show you? I don’t show my stuff to just anyone.”

“It’s a necessary verification process. It’s not a bad thing. Depending on the items, the dome might buy them.”

“Damn. It feels like I’m stripping and dancing. Follow me. I’ll show you.”

Ezal felt the professor’s and the small man’s gazes on his back as he followed Metal-jo to the back of the massive truck.

***