Chapter 103

Episode 103. There is No Line 10 in Seoul (3)

****

Completely isolated due to the Black Fog. I stood alone in the darkness. The hostile groups are humanity’s enemies. Not a single one will be spared.

“Director. We wish to speak with you.”

I pressed a button on my gas mask and dropped an Anti-Hallucinogen Pill into my mouth. Whatever illusions or cognitive disasters they’re using, I won’t fall for it easily.

I ran as far as I could into the darkness.

“Director!”

Disgusting things. Let’s figure out where we are first. A phase dimension? Just fog? Or an illusionary space? What should I call this?

Other readings are normal. It’s just fog. Well, even if it’s some kind of illusion, the readings could still be normal. But I just took an Anti-Hallucinogen Pill, so that’s unlikely.

Bang! Bang!

Gunfire continued. I couldn’t even tell who was shooting what…

[This is Moon-1.]

“Are you alive?”

[I’m fine. Darkness. Death. But. Don’t worry. I’m fine. Run. Surrender. Put down your weapons and wait.]

“……”

I grabbed the radio.

“Everyone in this bunker is presumed dead. If anyone is still alive, do not confront me.”

Cape. Wilson. Gauss Musket, Popo. I ran back into the darkness. This time, with the sole intention of killing everything in sight.

“Director!”

A voice I’ve never heard before. If it were a Foundation employee, they would’ve spoken through the radio. Or is that… where is it even coming from?

“Director. I can’t see where you are.”

Irritation surged.

I’ll kill them.

I’ll kill them.

“Ah!”

I tackled the black figure in front of me and smashed its helmet with the musket’s stock.

“What… a power befitting the king of this country.”

“Die!”

Grenade.

Another soldier appeared. I threw a grenade in the direction they came from. I don’t know if they died, but—

Bang! Bang! Bang!

A few more figures in combat gear fell. It’s a uniform I’ve never seen before. It looks similar to the Foundation’s gear…

“Director.”

“What.”

“Didn’t you learn anything in Jeju Island? From Ganymede, or the Garden, or something? Have you realized anything?”

First, assess the situation.

I can’t tell where the voice is coming from. It might be transmitted supernaturally through this fog. My Special Forces’ status is unclear, but something is mimicking them.

Let’s assume they’re Mimics.

There are at least dozens of Mimics. What have I been killing until now? But it doesn’t seem like Mimics can replicate and use guns in such a short time. So, real enemies are mixed in.

First, kill as many as possible. Since I can’t do anything about the voice right now, I’ll leave it be.

Really. I really want to kill them all.

Bang! I holstered my gun, and another Mimic died with its head blown off.

“Ugh. I can’t see its face.”

“Just wait. I’ll chop up your corpse and preserve it in the lab.”

“Director. Please wait. Just 5 minutes, exactly 5 minutes to talk, and I’ll let your Special Forces return alive.”

“You’ve been talking for a while now. It’s been 1 minute.”

“What do you think of the Foundation?”

“What.”

“The Foundation is the root of all evil in the world.”

Bang! Bang! Bang!

I took cover from the gunfire coming from somewhere. Good thing I brought a ballistic shield. I don’t know if it’s effective, but just having it makes me feel safer.

“Oh? What’s your goal then?”

“The Foundation. They have the power to rewrite the world, but what are they using it for? Even you, Director, could solve all of this country’s problems.”

“So, you want me to be king?”

“You are already the king. Like Yeonsangun, who chased tigers in the mountains instead of governing, you’re an incompetent and evil king who chases after supernatural phenomena while the country lies at your feet.”

Someone threw a grenade. I took cover with my ballistic shield. I have an idea who it is.

“We are the Colorless Orchestra. Resistance against the Foundation-centered world order.”

“Yeah. I know that.”

“You, and the current leadership of the Foundation, are unworthy of holding the reins of the Foundation. You have no right to decide providence.”

Rattle rattle rattle.

That’s an automatic weapon. I popped a smoke grenade and headed back into the darkness. Bringing a machine gun into this narrow building is a bit much.

I’m only shooting single shots.

“We will open a new world. Now, hand over the crown! Or, you can join us. Isn’t it suffocating?”

“What?”

“Director. Even if you have the power to summon typhoons and split mountains, what are you doing? Hiding in the shadows, buying cars, drinking wine, buying watches, such pitiful things.”

Is there a way to find them?

No. There’s no evidence they’re on this floor.

“If the Orchestra, or we, had the power to rewrite the world, we would’ve rewritten it already. For a better world.”

“If this is the best, what can I do?”

“That can’t be true!”

“You damn bastard, I’m busy. Every day, guys like you scream about ending the world. What do you want me to do?”

Bang! Bang! Bang!

I couldn’t stop running. In a situation where I’m being chased, stopping would mean certain death.

Now I get it. What the Orchestra is, and what those bastards have been doing. I’m starting to get a rough idea.

“Director. Do you know what the Foundation is? It’s usually translated as ‘Foundation,’ but the organization is older than the concept of the Foundation.”

“Huh?”

“Foundation, groundwork, basis, foundation. Our job isn’t to contain supernatural phenomena. That was never our job. Since the beginning of history, what the Foundation has done—”

I think I’ve gone full circle. The outline of this black maze is starting to take shape. Even though it’s complete darkness with only enemies visible…

“To ensure humanity’s survival, to set the rules of the world. That’s what the Foundation does. Isn’t that right, Director?”

“I don’t know.”

By the way. I came here to capture the Followers of the King of Darkness, so why am I fighting these random guys?

Summarizing what I’ve figured out so far—

“Last chance, Director. Join us, or die by our hands.”

Bluff.

Even after trapping me in a limited space, surrounding me with Mimics and Orchestra members, they can’t even grasp my general location. What are they even trying to do?

Meanwhile, my Popo already know the way out of the maze. Following the ventilation shaft, they’re heading toward the center of this facility.

The Special Forces… I don’t know where they are.

I pulled out my flare gun.

An orange flame split the darkness.

****

It’s quite an elaborate trap. Black Fog. Mimics. Members of the Orchestra. But they don’t seem to know much about what happened in Jeju Island.

This won’t stop me.

There’s a limit to the number of members and Mimics, but the Popo keep bringing me 12.7mm Armor-Piercing Bullets.

The number of Mimics is gradually decreasing. If this black thing is appearing through the Mimics, it’ll disappear too.

It’s indeed thinning.

The Orchestra members are probably former Foundation soldiers. Due to their equipment, they’re not as combat-effective as Foundation soldiers.

Bang!

The last Mimic finally fell. I reached the central door of Basement Level 4. No time to wrestle with the door.

“Wilson. Smash the lock.”

Boom! Boom! Boom!

It only took a few seconds. I kicked open the door to the Basement Level 4 Management Room. Inside… one person was sitting.

“Wait, hold on—”

The Popo instantly surrounded the target.

I drew my pistol.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

I shot the man’s limbs with the pistol, then aimed the barrel at his head. The floor was soaked with blood.

“Ugh…”

If you’ve ever killed someone with a gun, you’d know there’s less blood than you’d think. Even if you squeeze out every drop, it’s only about two large milk cartons.

But usually, only some of it spills, and most of it gets absorbed by clothes or equipment. Is that all the blood? You’d often wonder.

Come to think of it, there might be some supernatural phenomenon hidden here. I put two more bullets into the man’s torso.

“Ah!”

“You. Who are you?”

“Th-the Conductor of the Orchestra—”

“What were you planning to do today?”

“To kill or persuade the Director—”

“Did you think that would work?”

“S-sorry. If you spare me—”

“Hmm. Okay.”

I waited for more answers, but the leader of the hostile group didn’t respond. Judging by the lack of breathing, he’s probably dead.

I don’t feel like sitting down to check his pulse. It might be dangerous.

But he might turn into a zombie or something, so I’ll burn him later. I holstered my pistol and checked the radio. How many Special Forces members are still alive?