00017 〈-- The Little Prince in the Ossuary --〉
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#High Risk High Return (4), Paso Robles
Gyeo-ul observed the bulletin board hanging in the hallway closely. There was a bloodstain on the dress code notice.
It stated that shorts or skirts should cover more than half of the thighs, but below that, it was unreadable.
It looked like someone with bloodied hands had torn it. Each time he collected such clues, 「Perception」 updated him on the potential distribution of survivors within the school.
He verified the photos and names of the faculty and the approximate number of students.
"For a school's emblem, it's quite unique, isn't it?"
It was Jin-seok's remark after seeing the school emblem. Red with black concentric circles.
Inside, a roaring beast was depicted. The spotted pattern made it look like a leopard.
Listening to Jin-seok's impression, Je-jung tilted his head.
"Is that unique? The emblem of Korea University also had a tiger."
"True..."
Je-jung, being older, naturally used informal speech with Jin-seok. As they got a bit closer, they started addressing each other as brothers.
"It seems it'll be hard to find survivors in this building."
Each classroom had one or two infected mutants at the least. Although not entirely accurate, it looked as though they came from outside.
There were no traces of students.
"There are so many buildings, huh... Shall we split up and search?"
Jin-seok's confident proposal. Gyeo-ul shook his head. It was the worst strategy. It might drastically reduce the exploration time but was dangerous.
If there were casualties, he would receive a penalty due to the promise he made as a leader.
Accepting the proposal might win Jin-seok's personal favor, but that wasn't his concern.
The potential combat fatigue from individual searches also worried him. Attention wasn't only required in combat situations.
Fear or peril would raise it anytime. Undoubtedly, moving alone would be frightening.
Jin-seok wasn't particularly outstanding or an important figure, so there was no reason to accept it.
"It's too dangerous. I think it's better to search the cafeteria or gym first."
"Why is that?"
"They're suitable for gathering a crowd. The cafeteria also has stored food, which is a plus."
"Ah."
Yura and Je-jung accepted without much question. Jin-seok's expression was slightly bitter, but Gyeo-ul pretended not to notice. He discovered a school map and pointed at it.
"The gym is a bit closer than the cafeteria."
Due to the building layout, they had to cross outdoors to reach either. They needed to exit the rear of buildings used for lectures and cross the court.
The school was open on all sides. There might be unnoticed threats from the front.
"I'll lead. Jin-seok, please keep an eye on the left, Yura on the right, and Je-jung in the rear."
Crash!
The glass door near the court shattered loudly. Five mutant entities invaded. Screeching at the edge of audible range, they charged.
Three automatic rifles immediately spewed fire. In the order of Jin-seok, Je-jung, and Yura. Blood and flesh splattered everywhere.
The mutants ended up like ragged mops. The waste of bullets was significant.
Gyeo-ul spun the unused machete in his hand. Should he be angry or not?
He hesitated, thinking now wasn't the time. He turned, speaking in a calm tone.
"I understand your anxiety. Still, please watch the direction you're assigned to. We could be ambushed."
All three companions cleared their throats almost simultaneously. It made their faces turn even redder.
There was a slight, insignificant increase in affection due to his refraining from anger. There was no unchanging effect.
Of course, that's how it was.
'An unchanging heart' is not something easily achieved.
A lowering emotion would be disgust, perhaps annoyance at hearing from a youngster. Pride wasn't a rational emotion.
He stepped out of the door. As expected, there were infected mutants. They reacted like animals and charged like monsters.
Gyeo-ul decided to handle them alone. A pistol in one hand, the machete in the other.
Once reaching the expert top-tier of shooting, he shot several heads and, by stepping forward, attracted their attention.
They were not highly intelligent. They charged without taking advantage of their numbers.
Thunk.
The sound of a spinning blade severing a neck. He spun with relaxed wrists, swiftly freeing the blade.
He used his entire body to cut the next one, deflecting with the recoil after two spins. Another mutant was decapitated.
Even before retrieving his high-raised blade, a new monster grabbed him. He was caught face to face, looking at an ugly countenance.
He fired, lodging two copper bullets into the mutant's eyes and tearing through to its brain.
Plop.
The mutant slipped down, leaning against the boy, with thin blood flowing from its eyes and nose.
Despite the earlier warning, there was no progress. Although they refrained from shooting, the group's heads were still facing forward.
When they met his gaze, they quickly turned theirs. After a silent moment, Yura whimpered with a faint voice.
"I'm sorry."
Gyeo-ul didn't get angry this time either. It was a time to soothe them. A cognitive and unconscious reaction with assistance from the AI overseeing the situation affirmed the boy's decision.
「AI Assistance (Perception Level 8): Initial technical proficiency increases rapidly in an oppressive and violent atmosphere. However, other side effects are likely to occur, and later technical proficiency behaves differently. For a community leader, developing this tendency into a trait of the community is possible. It reduces the community's soundness but enables quick skill acquisition.」
The implication was clear: Would he value the growth of members despite the late disadvantages, or would he prioritize securing a sound community despite early disadvantages?
In either case, accumulated nuances from habitual behavior played a role. That's why paying attention to even minor remarks was essential.
After explaining this to the viewers, Gyeo-ul formed a gentle smile. Fabricating emotions, as a boy raised in a cold environment, was a challenging task. It paid off with practice.
"Don't feel sorry. I know you're all trying."
A minor notification of affection adjustment. How much had it accumulated?
Gyeo-ul led the group.
The gym was a stone building. Not made thoroughly but with stone-based cladding, making it appear sturdy. For fleeing people, it might seem reliable.
There was a strong smell of feces from somewhere. Clearly human traces.
The main entrance was a typical glass door tightly blocked by a barricade of desks and equipment.
"If there are survivors, they'd be here."
Everyone in the group agreed.
"One or two couldn't have made such an obstacle."
Elder Je-jung remarked.
"Shall we clear it?"
"No. It's too noisy. It requires quite some strength, and time wastage is worrisome. More importantly, setting it back up after entering would be cumbersome. It's better to search for another way in. Maybe an emergency exit..."
Indeed, there was one. They found it easily by following the noise. A throng of infected mutants was pounding on it.
The noise from the first ones to arrive attracted more. Unlike the main entrance, there wasn't even a scratch on the steel door.
Just loud clattering. It was stained red. Blood from the pounding creatures' hands. They had pounded so much the broken bones were visible.
"There are quite a lot."
The boy didn't lower his voice. The group flinched. Je-jung whispered a muted cry.
"Hey! Your voice! Your voice!"
It was so urgent he used informal speech. Gyeo-ul reassured him.
"It's alright. With such noise, do you think my voice would be heard?"
"Oh..."
Upon hearing it, that made sense. Haah. The three simultaneously exhaled with amused expressions. After a soft chuckle, Gyeo-ul drew his pistol.
The Beretta M92.
It was the standard handgun for the U. S. military and available in sufficient quantities to distribute to refugee supporters without issue.
That was the setup. When fitted with a silencer, it didn't fit in the holster, so it was commonly tucked at the waist.
It'd be nice if they issued a dedicated holster.
"Let's proceed like before. Carefully aim at their heads. If any don't die, I'll handle them. It's better to aim for the temples or the spot behind the ears. There's no need to rush. Think of it as practice through real combat. Jin-seok, please watch the rear."
Gyeo-ul raised his right hand, holding the pistol, to shoulder height. With his left hand, he supported it under the grip.
Named the Palm Supported Grip, this stance supported below with the palm.
In this stance, it essentially absorbs the recoil with one hand, so rapid firing reduces accuracy. But it has merits. The arm holding the gun extends straight out, so single shots are well aimed.
The stance was assumed to handle the group's mishaps. He could switch postures quickly as situations changed.
The three, watching each other, fired almost simultaneously.
Low, dull gunshots.
The heads of what were once humans shattered like pops. When a bullet accurately hit the temple, the impact sometimes burst or dislodged the eyeball.
One survived awkwardly—a dangling eye on an exposed nerve. Yura crouched and retched dryly.
Gyeo-ul shot. The bullet slipped into the empty eye socket like a coin. Wham, the mutant's head swiveled.
The body followed. It plopped to the ground. Just two or three remained, quickly finished off by Je-jung's shooting.
Having merely spat a few times without vomiting, Yura lifted her head with a dark expression.
It wasn't so much from witnessing the grotesque mutants but almost a self-loathing.
A dislike for repeatedly showcasing disappointing behavior.
Growing up, Gyeo-ul, who read others since young, could easily guess such feelings. Confident in his judgment, he asked gently.
"Are you alright?"
"I'm sorry. I keep letting you down... I shouldn't have come along if this was how it would be..."
"Everyone is inexperienced at some point. What matters is ensuring you don't waste your skills once you're adept. Come, stand up."
As she grabbed the hand he offered, Gyeo-ul spoke words of comfort.
"Your courage alone is admirable, Yura. You've volunteered for such dangerous work. Keep your confidence."
"... It's embarrassing."
She never fully voiced what embarrassed her. It wasn't a bad reaction. Likely, she felt shy about the constant reassurance from Gyeo-ul.
As for Jin-seok, his expression was largely discontent. He thought Yura was causing various troubles.
If Yura saw those eyes, it would nullify Gyeo-ul's encouragement. When Jin-seok met Gyeo-ul's glance, they stubbornly held mutual gaze.
Stubbornness filled the air. Yet, he eventually looked away first.
Yura might be a burden for now. Her potential might not align with combat.
However, even if she later engaged in non-combat roles in the community, a mind refined by combat experiences would be beneficial.
Considering community members exchanged psychological impacts through interactions, this effort wasn't in vain.
Gyeo-ul recalled a story.
Back when predators roamed human living areas, goats were mixed among the sheep when they grazed.
When a predator attacked, sheep scattered. Goats did not. By placing goats among sheep, the sheep gathered around the goats.
A united group made it harder for predators to attack. Knowing this, clever wolves targeted goats when attacking sheep.
The story is tied with a true account in New Mexico, uSA, involving a wolf named 'Lobo', known as the "King of Curumpaw".
Put simply, Yura could become the goat among the sheep. Ideally, she would become a combatant, but if not, it wouldn't matter.
Paused. Viewer messages were furious about Yura. Statements like 「Dump her and move on!」 were rampant.
Gyeo-ul explained his intention. Viewers were frustrated but conceded. Resuming the quest, Gyeo-ul pushed ahead without pause.
He hurriedly pushed aside the scattered bodies around and tapped three short, three long, three short knocks on the bloody door.
An obvious strategic gap even to a novice, it signaled to the informed. It was an SOS in Morse code.
It wasn't a plea for rescue. Simply a signal to indicate that people were on their side. While mastered skills in 「Telegraphy」 or 「Signal Knowledge」 might enable alternate codes, there was no need. Expending experience wasn't justified.
A few repetitions brought the awaited response.
"Who's outside?"
"We received a transmission about teachers and students being trapped..."
"Oh, thank heavens, thank you!"
Joined by a voice filled with gratitude, the door opened.