00016 - The Little Prince in the Ossuary
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#High Risk, High Return (3), Paso Robles
Despite the boy's attempt to comfort her, Lee Yura appeared downcast. She had been like this throughout the journey.
It was understandable given the crisis they had faced due to her mistake. Thankfully, no one had gotten hurt.
Nevertheless, the increase in "combat fatigue" had been minimal. This was because Gyeo-ul had taken on the most perilous roles, and had made significant efforts to console her.
At the intersection of Riverside Avenue heading south and 13th Street open to the east, the boy pointed to a small shop nearby and spoke.
"Shall we take a short break there?"
"Won't we be short on time?"
The demeanor of the two other men had grown more respectful than before, a reflection of increased reverence and decreased affection.
"I think it should be fine. Probably. And there's something we need to do now anyway."
"Something we need to do...?"
Instead of answering, the boy pressed himself against the wall. The shop's sign had fallen off.
The front was made of plate glass, with several tables inside. A glance at the menu revealed it was a pizza place.
Opening the door caused a noise. A jingling bell sound. It sharpened the senses.
If there were infected mutants inside, they would have emerged at the noise.
However, it was quiet.
He signaled to the others that it was safe. The three companions entered in order, visibly tense.
As a gesture of reassurance, the boy audibly dragged a chair out.
"Please, have a seat."
The group hesitantly followed suit. The boy unzipped the duffel bag carried by one of the men. He took out the canned foods brought for the trip.
There was no need for additional utensils, as forks and knives were on each table. They just needed a dusting.
"Isn't food always in short supply? This is a rare chance. Eat as much as you like."
To refugees, the notion of fullness was already a faint memory. Park Jin-seok and Ahn Je-jung exchanged glances. It was communication that transcended generations.
"What you said we need to do earlier is...?"
"Yes. What else could it be? Once we arrive, we'll have to distribute it, which means there'll be watchful eyes. It'll be hard to give just to you. In life, one needs a certain degree of flexibility, don't you think?"
Je-jung laughed heartily, making his bald head shine.
"Haha, the little boss certainly has leadership qualities. Flexibility is indeed important."
The two men happily tore open the cans, prioritizing meat. A typical male appetite, perhaps.
Meanwhile, Lee Yura sat despondently.
Her symptoms were mild for now, but if left untreated, they might result in semi-permanent debuffs, like depression or combat fatigue.
Smiling, Gyeo-ul pushed a can of food toward Yura. He opened the lid before she could object.
"Eat. Otherwise, it's a waste."
"... I'm not worthy."
"Hmmm..."
What would be a suitable behavior now? What expression should he put on? After searching his memories, the boy picked up a fork.
He speared a chunk of meat immersed in thick broth. Such meat was typically cheap. However, it was a luxury for refugees.
Indeed, the aroma caught Yura off guard. She gulped. Her face turned red.
"Oh... this is..."
"Say ah."
"..."
"Come on, nuna."
"N-nuna..."
Perhaps unsurprisingly, Je-jung and Jin-seok, who were shoveling food into their mouths with gusto, also froze.
It was shocking to hear the boy, who had coldly sliced through infected mutants that were once humans, call someone nuna.
This move was closer to Gyeo-ul's true self than usual. However, revealing that is another matter.
An excellent yet inhumane leader is well-suited to gain authority, but there is trouble if it's always like that.
'Creating a reckless illusion.'
That person is different from us.
Exceptional, more than human. If this perception intensifies, people deify the person and hold unrealistic expectations.
He's different. He will always succeed. Impossible tasks, but he can do them all.
Such near-religious conviction is a double-edged sword. The moment failure occurs—even once—the moment faith collapses, people will tear into that failure like starving dogs.
Thus, sometimes one must show a glimpse of ordinary self. Pretending to have perfect leadership fits best when no other means of inspiring hope suffices.
Balancing this is challenging.
Yura fumbled, but Gyeo-ul didn't withdraw his hand. Although her face was unwashed and dirty, it was easy to see it turning red.
Likely from embarrassment, as it was too soon for romantic feelings.
"Ah!"
"Nicely done."
Upon seeing her clench her eyes shut and take a bite, Gyeo-ul smiled quietly. Yura's expression was in turmoil for a different reason.
She nearly jumped when Gyeo-ul offered another piece, sensing the atmosphere.
"I-I'll eat on my own now!"
"It's punishment for making us worry."
"..."
The atmosphere was pleasant. Je-jung and Jin-seok laughed softly. Yura threw a wet look at the two men, then resignedly ate on her own.
Though it was a calculated action, Gyeo-ul felt joy. She was older, but appeared cute as she held back tears.
'Why?'
He didn't quite know.
She was slower than the men in eating. It wasn't surprising for those who hadn't experienced a full meal in months to eat this way.
In the meantime, the men dispatched five cans each. Enough to make Gyeo-ul worry.
"I told you to eat your fill, but I'm worried you might get sick."
"Ah, boss. Despite how I look, I'm a Marine."
Je-jung replied with playful assurance, his bravado masking awkwardness. It was a more favorable response than when he felt uneasy.
Character correction likely played a role; calculated behavior isn't exclusive to players.
Gyeo-ul nodded.
"If that's so, then it's alright... but we still have some time left, so it's okay to eat more. We'll need to distribute again once we arrive anyway."
It was a bit tight. Infected mutants were more active at night, and using lights would draw attention.
They needed to arrive at least before sunset ended completely. However, he decided not to show this concern unless it was necessary to change plans.
The group resumed their journey after spending about 40 minutes there.
Paso Robles was bisected east to west by Highway 101, while 13th Street within the city crossed over the highway as an overpass.
Visible along the clear sightlines were abandoned vehicles and wandering mutants.
At the first intersection past the overpass, all the traffic lights were off. This was because electricity had been cut off.
For the safety of survivors who hadn't evacuated, electricity should have continued to be supplied, but the government feared fires or accidents due to electric malfunctions more.
They heard about this over the radio. After all, unattended electronic devices were prone to causing accidents.
Nothing major happened. Their group was overly cautious—maybe due to the sudden combat encounter at the church—and shivered in fear each time they saw a cross.
They passed three crosses within just a kilometer beyond the overpass: two Baptist churches and one Catholic cathedral. The doors were all open. Wandering mutants lingered nearby.
Before they could turn their attention to the group, the boy shot them in the head, creating holes.
Using vehicles as cover while moving was prudent, but one had to consider the possibility of mutants hiding beneath.
It was safest to check by getting close to the ground. Combat boots were robust, so even if bitten, there shouldn't be an issue.
However, one must not be careless.
"That must be Daniel Lewis Middle School."
Gyeo-ul pointed in the direction of the school buildings not long after they passed the cathedral.
A tall tree cast its shadow over the entrance. A yellow caution sign depicted an adult walking a child across the street.
It read 'SCHOOL XING (school crossing)'.
Beyond a truck that blocked the road, indeed, a new sign appeared. It displayed the school's name.
Below it, framed in an orange-bordered yellow rectangle, was a simple notice announcing an exam schedule. An exam that would no longer take place.
Unlike schools in Korea, it wasn't surrounded by walls. Due to this, a few mutants loitered in the open corridor. Gyeo-ul could handle them quickly, but the growth of the group was also important. Gyeo-ul specifically chose Yura, the most vulnerable, first. The other two were assigned to watch the rear and side.
"Do you think you can shoot them in the head from this distance?"
"Uuh..."
Her response lacked confidence. The closest group was about 30 meters away. Five of them. They hadn't noticed the group yet and were merely prowling leisurely, assuming something was inside the building.
At the usual engagement distance of a rifle, even a non-Proficient person should be able to land a hit. No guarantee on headshots, though.
Gyeo-ul opened the skill window and allocated a portion of the experience points acquired at the church to 「Instruction」, causing the progress bar to swiftly fill up as the ranks increased. Level 7.
This was sufficient as the onset of the expert domain for now.
Elevating Level 8 「Close Combat」 and Level 9 「Firearms Proficiency」 to Level 10.
Although there was some margin left, the world was dynamic and ever-changing. To avoid being helpless in unexpected situations, it was wise to always reserve experience points.
「Instruction」 enhances the learning efficiency of targets either while they act alongside the user or when they are being tutored by the user.
Gyeo-ul directed Yura accordingly.
"Consider this a good opportunity to gain experience. Hold the rifle. If anything goes wrong, I'll manage it, so you can rest assured."
Infected mutants, when attacked and not killed immediately, will alert their comrades.
The intention was to intervene in such cases. With repeated reassurance, Yura reluctantly nodded and raised her rifle.
Her stance was terribly awkward. No signs of prior training. After all, replicating what one learns within days in actual combat would require immense talent.
Knowing in theory isn't everything. Gyeo-ul assisted in positioning the rifle stock properly, pressing down her shoulder as he pointed out her breathing.
"Your breathing is too uneven."
Her breath was so ragged that the muzzle wobbled unpredictably. Moreover, her grip on the handguard was trembling due to exerting too much pressure, impairing her aim.
"Take your finger off the trigger. There's no rush. It's okay if it takes time, just shoot when you're ready."
Ensuring her shoulder was properly braced, the boy applied a bit more pressure. Gradually, Yura regained a steady breath with continual encouragement.
With one eye tightly shut, she aligned the rear and front sights.
It's often explained that because bullets oscillate up and down while spinning, one should adjust aim for different distances.
However, that's inaccurate.
Although spin affects the trajectory, the bullet does not actually oscillate—it follows a slight parabola.
The slight lift when aiming precisely is to ensure that, over certain ranges, the bullet lands above the aiming point.
The actual goal behind Gyeo-ul's explanation wasn't her understanding of the phenomena, but soothing her psychologically.
Listening to a lengthy explanation aids in dispelling tension. Indeed, Yura appeared to calm down, her tremors almost disappearing.
Focus on auditory cues assisted her serenity.
"You're doing great. You've improved considerably. Your form looks superb."
He did not skimp on praise. It played a crucial part in building her confidence. Overly excessive praise would backfire, but Yura wasn't in a state to notice.
Judging the right moment, Gyeo-ul provided further instructions.
"Now you can rest your finger on the trigger. Adjust the selector to three-round burst. Aim for the farthest left mutant. Take your time, fire at will. You don't need to alert me when you do. I'll handle any consequences, so don't worry about that, okay?"
"Yes, boss."
Upon hearing her reply, Gyeo-ul leveled his own rifle. Thanks partly to 「Firearms Proficiency」, his aim was superbly fast.
Yura pulled the trigger.
Thud!
A muffled sound, thanks to the silencer. The targeted mutant reeled, almost like having been struck by a hammer.
A flash of dark crimson stained the wall. While not centered precisely between its eyes, one of the three bullets smashed its spinal cord.
Thunk.
The target crumpled. Listening to the sound, other mutants whirled around. But their gazes diverged, meaning they hadn't perceived the group yet.
Startled by the sudden movement, Yura stiffened. And Gyeo-ul consoled her again.
"It's alright, really. You did well. Aim again at the leftmost one, and deal with them in sequence. Steady your breathing, calm yourself, then shoot."
About 20 seconds later, the gunfire resounded again, thrice over. This attempt didn't go as smoothly.
The others, having turned toward their collapsed fellow, showed their sides.
Although ideally, the bullet should penetrate the temple, one of the shots went astray while the others destroyed the cheek and jawline.
"Eek!"
Yura flinched as the target, flapping its half-detached jaw, redirected its sight upon them.
While it registered this side, Gyeo-ul aimed and punctured its forehead.
Crack.
Its head whipped back. The body toppled sideways, limbs twitching.
"See? I can handle more or less any mishap. Don't rally in fear; it's just a matter of calming down and shooting again. It'll come more naturally with practice."
"Yes, yes..."
As Yura swallowed hard, rivulets of sweat dotted her brow despite the brisk weather.
Gyeo-ul, noting this from the corner of his eye, resolved to start carrying a handkerchief. His AI interactions held tangible benefits.
The shots continued until seven mutants had hit the ground. Her hit rate stood at around fifty percent.
For each misstep, Gyeo-ul intervened. The mutants failed to locate their attackers till the end.
"Nicely done, Yura. Achieving such results on your first try is impressive. Have a rest."
"Yes, boss. Whew... Thank you. I feel a bit more confident now."
Her appreciation hinted at a sense of having received special treatment.
Yura beamed, though with her gas mask on, only her smiling eyes were apparent—it was a lovely sight. Gyeo-ul nodded, proceeding further.
"Next, we'll address the five in the center lawn. Jin-seok, could you handle this one?"
"Consider it done."
His response brimmed with competitive spirit. It seemed he harbored competitive feelings toward Gyeo-ul, observing him stealthily while cautiously guarding the flanks.
Jin-seok finished them off more adeptly than Yura. Lastly, Je-jung, the self-proclaimed Marine, executed his shots more confidently than either of his predecessors.
Despite this, his accuracy was relatively low. Perhaps overconfidence led to blunders.
"Haha, my mistake. It's been a long while since my discharge..."
The middle-aged man scratched his head sheepishly. Perhaps the Marine claim was a bluff. Either way, it wasn't a pressing concern.
Upon examining the sky, it was gradually dimming. Nevertheless, it granted more than an hour of remaining daylight—timing aligned with their EENT (End of Evening Nautical Twilight) briefing.
EENT indicated the end of twilight, marking the moment when daylight had entirely faded.
Even as the sun sunk past the horizon, the sky wouldn't blacken immediately. Having EENT as a precise reference was quite advantageous.
"We'll now search the first building. I'll lead, so follow me."
Daniel Lewis Middle School was comprised of multiple single-story buildings.
Because none of them were particularly large, Gyeo-ul anticipated that 10 to 20 minutes per building would suffice.