Clearing the Game at the End of the World

Game 159: [Chapter 10] Lead and Silver Coins (13)



Game 159: [Chapter 10] Lead and Silver Coins (13)

****

The world had turned upside down, and so many strange things had happened.

A teenage boy whose life had been all about books, movies, and games had taken up a gun, lost his father, dug the earth for farming in the jungle, stolen for survival, and even became an expert at living through it all.

He had lost his mother, wandered, learned to live on his own, and fought against reanimated corpses and monsters so bizarre that it was hard to believe they were once human.

He had acquired a strange new family in his head, made good friends, and, unintentionally, had been tagged as a hero.

But I can assert, that throughout my 24 years of life, I had never had such a strange experience as this.

"Nice to meet you, doesnt quite fit since weve known each other for quite a while, does it?"

"Ah, um, yeah Thats right."

"Then, glad to meet you suits better. Glad to meet you, professor. Im Speedwagon, Dana Elisha Hyacinth. Just call me Dana."

My longtime online friend, blushing as if touching her would leave a mark on her pale white skin as she introduced herself by name. Truly, sincerely, this was a first-time experience for me.

This is awkward. No, its beyond awkward; Im starting to feel a disconnect with reality!

The bed, as white and clean as the bedding, seemed to be for patients, given its adjustable upper part to help the patient sit up. Just the small motion of trying to sit up seemed to exhaust her, requiring her to catch her breath.

Each breath she took outlined her feminine form through the thin, sky-blue patient gown, leaving me unsure where to rest my eyes, and to think, this was the friend I had relied on the most in my wasteland life.

Goodness gracious. This is quite the joke. It would have been less shocking if Ian turned out to be a legendary handsome decadent.

[LOL LOL LOL LOL Though Im barely two years old, sitting quietly inside here watching your life unfold, I can definitely tell somethings gone terribly wrong with it LOL LOL LOL]

Even now, closing and opening my eyes in hope this was all a mirage or a bizarre dream, what remained was still Speedwagon, adjusting her attire with gestures too feminine to be anything but real.

Speedwagon: Are you an idiot? Still dont get it?

Just call me Dana.

[Are you an idiot?]

Dana-

[Are you an idiot?]

Dana~

.

.

.

.

Fucking hell, this doesn't match up at all! How can they be the same person!"

Amidst my confusion, Hyde's laughter echoed endlessly in my mind, looping memories of Speedwagon alongside his raucous laughter. No matter what I said, there was no response; he just rolled around laughing, scattering images of the past and the recent appearance of "Miss" Dana in my head, clearly enjoying the situation to his taste.

Eventually, unable to withstand the silence, I responded to hergreeting with a sentence so disorganized it was hard to tell if I was speaking or just throwing words.

"Ahem. That nice to meet you. Dana. I'm professor', Professor Park."

Even after speaking, the only thought that came to mind was a desire for death, given the awkwardness of my sentence.

"Pfft!"

But instead of an awkward silence, what came back was a light laughter.

"Oh, really. Professor, you seem quite awkward, don't you? It's unlike you to be this nervous. Or is it a deliberately stiff manner of speaking to match your outfit? I heard you're quite popular in Dome, perhaps you're trying to set a new trend?"

Dana smoothly caught my awkward speech, turning it into a joke, prompting further conversation.

As someone who lived off his wits, the thought "This is a pro!" briefly crossed my mind, but that wasn't important right now.

Conversation is like a game of catch with words. Since she threw a ball easy for me to catch, it's my turn to catch it well and throw it back cleanly. The topic? Dome, clothing, popularity. Not a bad topic at all. There's plenty to talk about. Come on, Professor Park! Show the worth of the man who played World 3 with just his tongue!

Like calculating an enemy's strategy in GG, my brain worked overtime, sorting through words jostling to be chosen as the correct answer, and I threw the most plausible one into the awkward atmosphere.

"Your home it's quite nice. Atmospheric."

".Oh? Ah, yeah. It is a bit of an unusual place to live, isn't it?"

"Yeah exactly. It's serene, has a nice atmosphere, quiet and nice. Hahahahaha."

"Hahahahahaha."

"."

"."

"."

Back to silence.

[Kaaaang! Ah, left field! A homerun that greatly ignores the opponent's goodwill! A hit flying in the completely opposite direction from the topic! Now, the frail lady's face is showing signs, signs of frowning! Almost as awkward a response as Nice weather we're having today' aaaah!]

Inside, Hyde was more than just mocking; he was going berserk,

And Dana in front of me slightly frowned and sighed.

".Hooo."

That small sigh shredded what little confidence I had left like leaves in a storm.

I can't do this. Help me, Hyde Switch with me An arm, legs, heart. I'll give anything. Just help me.

[Ding! Wrong, Professor Park! What you need to do now isn't to lie down but figure out how to soften this stiff atmosphere into something as smooth as velvet!]

Damn it, if it were that easy, would I be here chatting with you."

[If the guy whose biggest strength is talking can't talk, what's he gonna do! Think of it as going to work, not to meet a woman! Like with Senadis! The enemy is enchanting you with their bewitching appearance and voice, hypnotize them back!]

A conversation between humans, not just as beings. Right. Conversations are my strongest suit.

If it were just Speedwagon, or Miss Dana Elisha Hyacinth, in an odd situation, maybe I could have adjusted better. Business, after all. As the leader of a caravan who came seeking an informant, I could have managed a smooth, professional conversation! As people of the wasteland to a somewhat unusual survivor.

But in this mess there's no way I can do that!"

Just look at this situation.

Lying in bed, a woman with a pale complexion was smiling softly,

and in front of her sat a man dressed like a mafia member from the 60s. He even held an awkward bouquet of paper flowers in one hand.

At first glance, it seemed like a scene where he should immediately get down on one knee and declare, "Before you leave me, I wanted to say this," as if offering a serenade of love.

That was the situation I found myself in.

Ian had prepared this attire, saying, "Before a big deal, we all need to look the part of professionals in the deal," but the problem was that his old-fashioned taste was fully reflected in this outfit. It ended up being the kind of suit a prohibition-era milk mafia would wear, all because there was no synthetic fabric, and it was made entirely of cloth. The guys behind this were quite pleased with themselves for sending me out in it.

Thanks to this, I ended up looking like a man who had come to meet his lover in a very traditional and classic manner.

The atmosphere had already gone cold.

Watching Ian, unable to stand the sight from afar, vault over a pile of books, I thought it might be easier if he just came over and turned everything into a mess.

Whirring, creaking, whirring

The housing AI next to Dana wobbled as it flew towards me, pushing a bright white screen in front of my face.

Click, clack, click.

Speedwagon: Was it awkward? This side is definitely more comfortable, isn't it?

"."

Click, click, clack.

Speedwagon: It's been so long since I met someone in person, I didn't know how to act. Sorry.

Black letters familiarly appeared on the bright white screen.

Looking up, I saw Dana with an old keyboard on her lap, slightly waving her hand.

It really is her.'

The ID on the chat window, and the person typing it in real time. Only then was I convinced that this woman was the friend, Speedwagon, I had been searching for.

Despite being the same distance away as before, this small deception somehow made me feel more at ease. Despite the conversation having gone through a chat room, which should have added more distance, why did it feel like an old friend had come to sit next to me?

"A bit unexpected, really. Your way of speaking, and the things you say. I expected someone holed up in a corner room with dozens of radio receivers, dirty and skinny, covered in beards and wearing glasses."

Speedwagon: So, you would have preferred that?

With the sound of typing, Dana awkwardly brushed her hair like an actress, prompting an involuntary chuckle from me.

"I would really like to say I preferred that, but how can I when you are so charming?"

Speedwagon: Bullshit. It's a bountiful year.'

My smoothly flowing words seemed surprising to me, drifting through the air to the other side. A suppressed laugh and softly waving hair came into view.

Click, clack, click

Speedwagon: I've had a chronic illness since I was young. Being unable to go outside the hospital, the online world was everything to me.

"So that's why. Always logged on without rest, as if you lived that way.

Speedwagon: Honestly, I wanted to try everything others do, get tired of the tasteless hospital food. Frustrated, I even prayed for the world to just end and it really did. To be honest, I've tried that status window' thing. It didn't appear.

Chuckling

It's strange, isn't it? Now, seeing the ID Speedwagon overlaid with Dana's image, slightly waving her hand. Just a few sentences of conversation broke down the barriers between the two identities, Speedwagon and Dana.

[See? It's this easy.]

This is entirely Ian's fault. Stupid kid, outsiders have their own way of communicating. A sparrow cannot walk like a stork.'

Thinking of the word walk', I, who had been sitting far away on a pile of books from Dana, found myself standing up, stretching my legs.

Step, step, step.

It wasn't that I had gained confidence; it just became natural. It seemed ridiculous to be having a conversation from afar with someone who was always cracking jokes and frantically searching for things they didn't know.

Click, clack, click.

Passing by the wobbling drone, I stood in front of my long-time friend, crossing the library. Seeing her slightly surprised eyes, I felt an urge to tease her.

"A manner of speaking that matches the outfit. Then, the actions should follow suit."

After standing in front of her bed, I politely took off my hat and bowed.

"It's truly been a long time since we first met, Dana Elisha Hyacinth Speedwagon."

With a playful tone, Dana burst into laughter at the paper bouquet placed on her keyboard. She accepted it, inhaling deeply as if it were real flowers, a smile forming on her lips.

"I was going to give you just 5 points for the effort, but since you found my favorite flowers, I guess 7 points will do. Hmm~ The smell of books. My favorite scent."

"Ah, it's the honor of my family."

Grinning.

Giggling!

We both couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of our theatrical display.

A bit of commotion came from behind, and turning around, I saw my friends, who had been complaining about being suffocated with frustration, now pointing at us and shaking hands as if they had accomplished a great mission.

Even though it wasn't the kind of relationship those guys were thinking of.

The online friend I met after 5 years was, in fact, much more special and delightful than I had imagined.

****

-And also, an incredibly capable friend.

"Two transport teams moved from Dome 47 to Dome 38 within the last month. I'm not sure about the second team, but I know what happened to the first."

Zap!

"Right! Instead of aimlessly wandering the graveyard, coming to see you was the correct answer! Where are those guys now?"

".Genie?"

Whirring-

At her call, the drone that had been busily moving around organizing books came rushing to her side.

"You called, yes, y-you called."

"Could you bring up the files on missing persons confirmed to be from Dome?"

"Whirr, whir- Unable to find the file does not exist."

"Come on, don't say that and look properly. Recently missing persons identity confirmed should be in Dome."

"Confirming. Confirmed. File found, found."

"Good job."

The housing AI, unable to find the file without its owner specifying the file location, was as strange a scene as this library itself.

Dana, unable to speak and not knowing how to find files, petted the old drone like a pet and then showed us the images that appeared on the screen, one by one.

"Here this one, and this one, and this one, though it's hard to see because it's just a silhouette. These are all the photos my informants sent me."

"Informants, huh Miss Dana, are you sure these were taken properly? This looks like"

"You can speak casually to me, Ezel. It's not like we've known each other for just a day or two. Yes, they are mutants. But I confirmed that their physique, distinctive features, and even the defects in their equipment all match. These people are likely from the first transport team that left your dome."

".Then, could you send these photos to the Investigation Bureau? It might be cruel for the families, but we need solid evidence for the deceased processing of the missing people."

"If the right price is paid?"

Flick!

Suddenly turning off the screen she was looking at, Dana looked around at us with a puzzled expression and said,

"Seven years since the apocalypse began. I've received help from many people and lost them all. The reason I, who have no physical abilities, have survived until now is because I was the fastest to preempt information, assess its value, and manage it. It's not just about selling information, but calculating the changes that occur by providing it, like tuning a delicate violin."

"Controlling the situation through information Kind of gives me the chills, miss."

"Thank you for the compliment. Anyway, the principles I've always maintained were to receive something in exchange for any information and to hide myself. Today, I've broken both of those rules."

".And the reason?"

"Because the situation has placed me atop that violin. The information I provide now affects my own circumstances. So, after a long observation, I decided to give the coordinates to a survivor known as professor', who I believe to be moving with the closest thing to goodwill' among us."

Despite Ian's probing pressure, Dana spoke unwaveringly, taking another deep breath before continuing.

"If you want more diverse information about the whereabouts of the transport team / events occurring in the areas below number 40 / the movements of Dome 38, etc., there are a few things I'd like you to do for me."

Thump!

At Dana's words, Ian, with his distinctive eerie smile, sat down nearby.

"Information and compensation That's welcome news. There's nothing more suspicious than kindness without a price. So, let's hear it. How big of a request will it be? Just to let you know upfront, if the price isn't right, we might have to refuse."

"No, I'm sorry, but you won't be able to refuse. It's that kind of request."

Ian's face, which had been smirking throughout, twisted slightly.

".Can you stand by that statement?"

"Of course. This isn't just a problem for me; it involves everyone living here."

Dana, looking exhausted, turned the drone's screen back on and played a video.

"I want you to stop Happy Blind. My informants were all taken by them, so I don't know exactly what's happening, but at least I saved this one."

Crackle-

The video had no sound, only footage.

It showed men holding boxes as big as an adult torso and people in front of them rapidly turning into Type 2 mutants.

They weren't dead. They had turned into mutants while still alive. Among them were individuals with dozens of eyes, unlike typical Type 2 mutants, and some with their upper bodies completely detached, leaving only the lower half.

"Hold on. This is."

"It's classified as a Type 3 mutant. Different from Types 1 and 2, which maintain a human form. They might not seem as powerful as some of the well-known ones by their form, but Type 3 is Type 3. Regardless of power, the fact that they act differently from the mutants we know is threatening enough."

Dana, who had taken a sip of water from beside the bed, looked each member of the group in the eye and said firmly,

"Do you remember what Happy Blind has always been saying?"

"[Technological civilization must disappear, and ultimately, all of humanity from the old generations that retain memories of the past must be eradicated.]"

Ezel muttered as if entranced, to which Dana nodded.

"Yeah. It seems they've found their answer."

****


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