00009 - The Little Prince in the Ossuary
The place he followed the guide to was a large tent designed to accommodate 24 people.
Suspecting it might be a trap, he first looked inside through the window. The illumination consisted of only one incandescent bulb hanging in the center.
Amidst the darkness, eyes glimmered uneasily, meeting his gaze. They were on guard.
It was strange. There were almost twice as many people as the appropriate capacity.
Regardless of the facility, there should have been enough tents. As soon as he harbored doubts, the AI responded.
「AI Help (Insight Level 6): The more people there are, the more safety can be guaranteed. It's likely to be a coalition of weaker single or vulnerable factions, or a group of unaffiliated individuals.」
Indeed, that made sense.
Factions with power would occupy an entire area, so there was no reason for people to gather into a single tent.
Han Gyeo-ul followed Yun-cheol inside.
A mild tension lingered in the air.
Yun-cheol clapped his hands to garner attention and introduced Han Gyeo-ul to the somewhat continually subdued inhabitants.
"Some of you might know him from working together or through rumors, but everything has its order. Let me introduce Mr. Han Gyeo-ul. Please give him a warm welcome."
The introduction was unbearably awkward.
Referring to someone much younger as "Mr." and asking for applause for something that wasn't an event was bizarre.
However, it seemed there was no one with the luxury to point that out. It was likely the best Yun-cheol could muster.
More than half of the members appeared to be incapable of being relied upon for combat.
There were mothers and children who couldn't even walk, many emaciated women, patients, and elders.
They looked simple but fearful. At least there were some robust men, making resistance possible if necessary.
After the awkward applause died down, Han Gyeo-ul was offered a seat near the central stove. It was the most plausible seat, and the rest either used folding chairs or simply sat on the bare floor if those weren't available.
Han Gyeo-ul spoke.
"I have some idea why you called me."
"Is that so?"
Yun-cheol's expression hardened. The boy nodded in affirmation.
"You want me to stay with you, right? Essentially, asking me to protect you."
There was no immediate response. However, even that silence was an affirmation in itself.
If it had been a denial, they would have declared so outright.
"It's pathetic."
An old voice mumbled. It belonged to an elderly man with liver spots on his face.
His skin was a tapestry of wrinkles marked by time. He sighed and continued speaking.
"It's pathetic. It's embarrassing. I have no face left to show. Looking at a child young enough to be my grandchild and wishing for help at my age... I feel like I've become senile. What's even the point of living... might as well die just like this."
"Sir, you shouldn't talk like that."
Yun-cheol, flustered, tried to calm the old man down while keeping an eye on Han Gyeo-ul.
"When we were coming, we faced a big ordeal. Including operatives from the 「Korean Patriotic Society」, there were 11 people tailing us, but Mr. Han Gyeo-ul noticed and called them all, intimidating them into retreating. The rumors weren't wrong at all. You shouldn't judge by age."
Then, he turned to Han Gyeo-ul, pleading.
"Um, did we upset you?"
"Not really. It's true I'm young."
Even if this were reality, he would have accepted it as such. He was aware that the system narrative gave interaction penalties to minors.
If that's the case in reality, would virtual reality be any different? There was no newfound reason to feel displeased.
It wasn't a time to pretend to be angry, either.
On the other hand, he thought their reactions most closely mirrored what he considered realistic.
AI composition via TOM reading was intrinsically like that. TOM refers to the brain organ responsible for judging others' emotions.
Yun-cheol, unsure whether Han Gyeo-ul was being sincere or sarcastic, carefully broached the main topic.
"We didn't mean to impose. You're right about wanting help. The people with us are unaffiliated with any organization and have been suffering various damages because of that. We believe if someone influential could represent us, we could reestablish ourselves as a unified organization... and during our search, we decided to invite you, Mr. Han Gyeo-ul."
"You said 'we'. How many people does that entail?"
"About seventy-nine..."
He trailed off, perhaps because of the lack of capable individuals relative to their numbers.
In tough times, those considered useless are usually the first abandoned. Those here were a coalition of such discarded individuals.
Han Gyeo-ul rephrased his question.
"How many can fight?"
Just as Yun-cheol was about to respond, Han Gyeo-ul emphasized:
"Honestly."
The brief statement carried strength and intimidation. It was necessary to command like this.
After all, experience in leadership was needed. This was only obtained from leading a community.
While he would positively consider their offer, it was clear that merely showing a friendly demeanor wouldn't secure or maintain a leadership position.
It would lead to being one-sidedly exploited or betrayed. It was a fact well learned from multiple experiences.
Considering his youthful age, he was easily underestimated. Being solely gentle wouldn't suffice.
Han Gyeo-ul was skilled in understanding others' feelings. It might be talent, but more so from taking care of his family since a young age... more accurately, living by reading their moods.
To him personally, aI was easier than people.
Suppose they lied and got caught later. In that case, it was evident that Han Gyeo-ul would lose interest.
It was more likely they believed that being truthful from the start was better. Yun-cheol looked resigned.
"Seventeen... people."
"That's few."
"......."
Han Gyeo-ul's blunt assessment that there weren't many fighters cast a pall over the tent's interior, as if an unexpected winter had arrived.
Yun-cheol sighed repeatedly before breaking the silence with difficulty.
"I know. Someone of Mr. Han Gyeo-ul's caliber could easily join any organization and be well treated. Still, seeing that you're alone, I thought maybe something uncomfortable was keeping you, or you didn't like their tyranny. If I'm right, please help us. I'm asking you."
"I see it as a struggle to even manage myself."
In a negotiation tug-of-war, the side in need ultimately loses. He needed to convey a sense of reluctance, making it harder for them to voice complaints later.
Existing organizations often have a high degree of immorality. It's troublesome in many ways to join them, even if successful.
All organizations harbor intrigue and corruption, but he'd preferably avoid such things, despite some people enjoying them.
In short, no matter how good the conditions were, he had no intention of joining them.
Yet, weaker people harbor their own kind of malice. Even now, there were sharp gazes that refused to acknowledge him.
They'll use him since he's needed for the moment, but in the end, he's just a kid.
With superior skills, they think in due time they'll stand in the spot currently occupied by this child.
Egoistic glances were apparent as well. They didn't care who took responsibility as long as it wasn't them.
Some wanted to shove the burden onto the younger one irrespective, simply because it was convenient.
They viewed Han Gyeo-ul as nothing more than someone easy to use, while outwardly praising him for personal gain.
Weak people aren't necessarily virtuous. Sometimes it's because they are weak that they become wicked to survive.
Oppressed weaklings often oppress those weaker. They have to survive, after all.
However, being unvirtuous doesn't mean they're outright malicious individuals.
In different circumstances, many could repent and feel remorse.
Maybe it's proof that this virtual reality, while mirroring the indulgences of the real world, is intricately detailed in these aspects too.
She appeared unkempt, but a woman who seemed to be university-aged raised her hand. Her confident expression was striking.
"We don't just expect help one-sidedly. If you can prevent other groups' tyranny, we will do our best to follow reasonable orders. We're proposing leadership to you."
Offering hollow flattery, it was clear what the woman intended. Han Gyeo-ul read in her eyes the intent of seeing him young and exploitable.
Even if it wasn't a blatant intention, there's always an element of unconscious motivation.
Following her start, other people began to speak in turn.
"To be honest, it's embarrassing asking someone younger than an adult for such a favor. Seeing someone as young gaining notoriety courageously, what's an adult like me doing? But in this situation, pride or not, there's no choice. We have to admit it. Your name was Han Gyeo-ul, right? You're much more admirable than cowardly adults like me. What's the use of age? There are plenty of adults who can't even take care of themselves."
"It's been a while since I had proper meals. Trying anything now is hard since my body has weakened so much. Mr. Han Gyeo-ul, please help us. If we eat well for a few days, we'll gain some strength and be able to contribute."
"Right, young man. In case you have to go out to gather supplies again later, it's better to assign it to your people rather than having someone unreliable behind you, isn't it? My husband might be old, but he's a former Marine."
"I can't produce milk because of hunger. I don't care if I die, but I want my baby to live."
At this point, Han Gyeo-ul felt a deep-seated, burdensome feeling akin to age-old boulders rolling around in his chest.
Heavy.
The term "parents" had become one of his triggers. It was the same with not just parents but his entire family.
He raised his hand to put a stop to the pouring words, and turned to the woman holding the baby.
Her undernourished frame and sallow complexion made her look older. What did she originally look like? Her features were distinct.
He gazed quietly before asking,
"Where's the father?"
"......."
Injured or dead maybe—that was what he presumed, but reality was different. The woman closed her mouth, her expression displeased.
The other woman, her spouse mentioned earlier, answered instead.
"He remarried."
"Remarried?"
"He joined the 'Damul Development Association' and they gave him a woman to set up a new household."
It was the type he had encountered only once before.
After hearing the other remarks, Han Gyeo-ul finally rose from his seat.
"I'll consider your offer. It's hard to decide on the spot."
With that, he hinted at the provision.
"For now, please take this."
"Oh, oh, this is......."
He handed over a bundle of ration tickets he had tucked away in his pocket.
Before, lieutenant Capstone had provided him a small personal supply buffer before they left for the supply mission, and the exceptional success of the mission earned him enough rewards equivalent to provisions for ten people.
He had distributed one average person's five-day ration supply to each, totaling fifty tickets for ten people.
Casually pulling out the stack of ration tickets, everyone around was visibly taken aback.
Faces were anxious, with hands stopping midway once making eye contact. Some began to cry.
In the current camp, revealing food supplies signified an offering greater than any bountiful feast.
This one gesture could significantly change how they perceived the boy.
"I'll finish dinner as quickly as I can and be at the distribution center by evening. Since we even ran into each other on the way here, they won't just blatantly shove me aside and take it in front of me... right?"
People heading to the distribution point naturally carried ration tickets. Thus, it's also where most thefts occurred.
This kind of consideration, marking leadership abilities before making formal decisions, significantly alters the psychological state of early community members.
It's the advantage of keeping them anxious before acceptance.
Han Gyeo-ul left the tent amid hopeful but still calculating farewells.