Clearing the Game at the End of the World - Chapter 182: Wizard of Wizards (2)

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When does a man really feel that he’s completely screwed?

Is it when my name grinds my teeth, stranded alone in the heart of enemy territory?

Or when I wake up to a doctor in a white gown informing me, “Your condition is quite poor”?

No.

The answer is “when something goes wrong with me and the friends beside me can’t even laugh about it.”

Think about it. Those who would always come running over the moment something happened shouting, “Lololol idiot lololol,” now come over with serious faces saying, “It’s okay. Everything will be alright. Hang in there.” At that moment, even the carefree fool who always said, “It’s okay, I won’t die,” starts to wonder, “Am I going to die?”

It’s going to take some time before I can adjust to playing the game in my current state, according to those who have been in this strange waiting room before.

First, the administrative researcher who’s always by my side managing my body.

“It’s an honor to serve you, Professor Park! My name is Cheisha, and I’ve been appointed as your physician!”

“Ah, yes, well.”

“First, I’ll explain the condition of your physical body, which you’re most concerned about… Are you mentally prepared?”

Mentally… what?

“Do I… need to be mentally prepared?”

“Quite?”

Don’t say it with such a happy expression, woman.

The screen that the physician showed me looked like it could drive anyone insane.

In my memory, my body had a deformed arm attached to a normal-looking man, muttering about how the lid of the connection device wouldn’t close because of his left hand, but this was….

“Do the data something department handle mutant corpses too?”

“That’s you.”

.

.

.

.

.

“What?”

“That, Professor Park, is your body.”

…Damn. Should have listened to the doctor.

“Couldn’t you have prepared at least a tranquilizer for me?”

“This is the waiting room for the connector. That’s why I told you. You need to be mentally prepared.”

My hands were trembling from the shock.

“Is that thing even alive?”

“It’s not ‘that thing’; it’s your body. You can see inside, right? The heart is beating strong.”

“That’s because it’s visible to the naked eye without any special equipment….”

Nowhere in the appearance of ‘that,’ which she called my body, was there any trace of my form.

Various mechanical devices were stuck all over the black arms and legs.

The abdomen, wide open, showed signs of ribs melted at the ends as if exposed to intense heat, and the somewhat intact intestines were chaotically mixed within.

“Surprisingly, 99.9% of the genetic traits are identical to those of humans, including the internal organs and cellular tissues. It seems that the transformation occurred while you were alive, affecting non-vital parts like skin, bones, and nails primarily, and then the activity of the ‘box’ halted the changes at a certain point.”

“So, only the outer parts have transformed, but the core is still human?”

“Yes, exactly!”

“But what about the bone shell on top of the intestines?”

“The ribs have grown about ten more to cover it. There’s a similar rare disease in humans.”

“And there’s an extra heart?”

“If you wake up and play soccer, you’ll probably be very good.”

Crunch!

…Hold it in. This person is a doctor. She doesn’t look sane at all, and if I beat her up here, she might just cut off one or two of my fingers and say, ‘It was like this originally. Do you know more about mutants than me? How many degrees do you have?’

What somewhat calmed me down was the progression graph of the mutant virus that this woman showed along with the video of my body.

“This is quite innovative. The virus levels are decreasing, albeit very slightly but it’s a significant physical reduction. The body tissue is gradually recovering, too. The black parts are regenerating much faster.”

“Does that mean I could return to my original state from this appearance?”

“Um… yes! The virus is steadily decreasing and recovery is ongoing.”

“Oh wow!”

“…At the current rate, maybe in about 43 years and 8 months?”

Damn it-

“Actually, Professor Park, your condition was already a unique case in the world even before it became this. No one can guarantee anything. The mutant virus itself seems a bit confused by the ‘living human + mutant’ state that’s imprinted in your genes. Maybe it’s thinking, ‘This isn’t the right place,’ and is trying to leave your body to find another host. Single-celled organisms operate on a YES or NO basis. Professor Park, you’re in between YES and NO, aren’t you?”

I heard a lot of incomprehensible things after that… but anyway, the desire to leave right away completely vanished.

If I leave now… it just doesn’t seem right. The way I look, fixed onto a steel frame and placed squarely in the center of a large room. It feels more like boarding an EVA from Evangelion than coming back to life. If they melt Professor Park’s soul and inject it into me, and the monster opens its eyes with a roar and shoots out of the city…

‘Just looking at it, it seems built for combat and likely to perform exceptionally well. If a crisis hits Dome, maybe President Young with his colored glasses might come and say [Get in your body, Professor].’

For now, I simply couldn’t accept that this was my body.

As my mind was occupied with these thoughts, the next visitor was President Young.

“You don’t seem very gentlemanly either.”

“Gentlemanly? Uh… not behaving like a gentleman… If I disturbed your thoughts, I apologize. There wasn’t really another appropriate time.”

“No, not that… Anyway, good you’re here. Seeing people come in one by one, it really feels like I’m hospitalized.”

President Young brought news about the outside situation.

“Did Dome and Raptor clash again? I thought those guys were all dead? Weren’t they the targets of some crazy mass killing device those madmen activated?”

“It’s the ’38th District Dome.’ We’ve completely separated from them. Actually, according to the report you sent two months ago from District 38, the cooperation between Raptor and the District 38 Investigation Bureau was somewhat revealed. But you know what kind of people Raptor are. They don’t engage in normal reciprocal relations; if they receive 1, they think only about taking the remaining 1. Making deals with such people is folly.”

Raptor’s movements were radically aggressive.

The mechanized soldiers dispatched to the 30th district had heard from the local Investigation Bureau, ‘Dome is empty, so as promised, help us take command of Dome!’ And this message was passed straight to Raptor’s headquarters, the Nest, and sensing an opportunity, Raptor immediately withdrew from District 43 and started advancing towards the 38th District Dome.

“Raptor’s chronic weakness is the lack of advanced equipment like shields, which makes adapting to the environment difficult. The reason they so persistently attacked the 52nd District Dome in the past was to conquer the city and loot it to make up for these deficiencies.”

District 52 had blown itself up with the city’s central power facility just before falling to Raptor.

Having previously faced a situation like chasing chickens only to end up like a dog that caught none, Raptor threw everything into this rare opportunity, rushing with all their might towards District 38.

“Did you just watch this happen? If an enemy you were facing off against left, you should naturally hit them where it hurts…”

“They expected this and had already placed a lot of people there. By the time we got the information and acted, Raptor’s delaying forces had already secured a near carpet-bombing kill zone at the choke points. We’re always in a position of defending a broad area with few troops, so it was difficult to respond agilely to such sudden movements. Plus, the movement speed of the Nest was faster than expected.”

According to the President, ‘it seems to have become more agile due to the reduced scale from the last battle.’

Even though there were no jamming signals from District 38, all communications with District 47 were ignored, leaving them with no way to alert others of the attack…

The Nest of Raptor, determinedly racing towards District 38, utilized its massive numbers of war machines to obliterate any mutants in their path and swiftly reached the district. As soon as the crazed administrative chief began his speech, they launched an advance into the city.

“It’s either incredible luck or they had spies within their administration. How they managed to ensure their survival in such a definitive manner is beyond me. But as a result, Raptor managed to kill all the nearby scavengers and wandering survivors when the first wave from the radio tower sounded, and by the third wave, they had swiftly taken over the city, demolishing and looting everything inside.”

The core parts of the city’s heart, the central generator, which could never be replicated, were dismantled and the entire city was virtually carted away, including its inhabitants.

“The good news is that our forces managed to strike back while they were slow from filling their bellies. The primary target for our troops was naturally the ‘box.’ Having experienced its power, we believed that if even that fell into Raptor’s hands, it would be the end.”

President explained that after a fierce battle, the exosuit team forcibly pushed through the supply lines and secured the box before retreating.

The result was the box, half-destroyed in my hands, overloaded and nearly exploding from the high-output energy of the radio tower, shattered once more by Raptor’s assault.

The ruined District 38 Dome.

And now, the real mobile fortress, New-Raptor Nest, which had dismantled and carried off the city-level shield and its generator, was now capable of moving to any extreme harsh terrain.

Of course, the city-level shield also had a cloaking feature. Obviously, it wouldn’t be as effective as when it was fixed in a city structure, but given the Nest’s size wasn’t as large as Dome, it was manageable. They had the technical staff for it. While not capable of enhancements or research, operation and maintenance were certainly feasible.

A silent and invisible city-like murder tank. Like having a fully crewed Arbiter tank.

“…This is just a crazy party.”

“That’s quite the apt description.”

President sighed, looking visibly aged since I last saw him. Well, he was the one who had to deal with it, probably feeling more frustrated than me.

“So… having achieved their objective, Raptor swallowed up the nearby refugees and vanished into the inner sectors of the 30s districts. Now, we find ourselves having to keep alert 24/7 to face them, even though they’re off the radar.”

That was the ‘second’ most serious issue, according to the President.

“Second? Then what’s the first?”

“Obviously, it’s the insane increase in mutants.”

“How bad are we talking?”

“…Remember right after the war ended? When dead soldiers all came back as mutants, marching in lines? It’s similar to that. Just when we thought we’d pushed back the mutants and expanded the human survival zones, one idiot’s blunder has us back to hiding and being hunted.”

“Damn.”

There were far more survivors hiding out than officially accounted for, and they started being hunted by an equal number of Type 2 mutants.

“Of course, your sacrifice… It’s thanks to that we can even think about these things. The completed box reportedly affected even within the shield, but this wasn’t to that extent. It didn’t produce nearly as many Type 3 and 2.5 mutants as the records suggest.”

People had stopped production and were holed up in their shelters consuming stockpiled food, or risking their lives to break through to larger community groups like Dome.

“Out of appreciation for your efforts, I’d advise that it’s easier on your mind not to come out right now. Stay in and rest. Think of it as a vacation.”

He approved an absurd amount of compensation for my services and injuries without a moment’s hesitation before leaving. His expression seemed slightly relieved, as if paying off some of the burden.

The next visitor was Ezel. Dressed in military uniform and with his face bandaged, he appeared…

“Waaaaah! Heeeey!!! Fuck, you’re not dead, right? This isn’t some kind of virtual PTSD treatment program, is it? You’re my brother, right? Professor bro! Hahaha heeey!!!”

He started sobbing grotesquely right from the start.

Thwack!

“Ah, you crazy fool! Have you lost your mind? Who’s your brother! I don’t have a brother like you!”

“Sob! But, but you told me to call you brother back then…”

“When did I ever!”

“…Ah.”

Ezel then broke down completely, collapsing to the floor and wailing. Seeing his breakdown, I realized my mistake—blaming himself for being slow and incompetent, leading to my condition. As he banged his head on the floor loud enough to be heard across a construction site, I decided it was best to intervene. It wasn’t difficult; a sharp “Cut it out, you maniac!” got him to sit up straight in front of me, kneeling in formal posture. His obedience was almost more frightening. What on earth had happened two months ago?

“…What happened to your face?”

“Uh… Sob! This? It’s nothing. That bitch burned my face.”

What on earth had happened to melt away the playful, mischievous face of my friend into such a gruesome state? As he hit his head on the floor, the loosened bandage slipped, revealing a face terribly distorted by severe burns.

“It’s really nothing. There’s good medication at the administration, and they say continuous treatment should do the trick.”

“Hey, how can you say it’s nothing, man! To have burns that melt your skin…”

“Should we compare it to your current condition?”

“Ah.”

Right. I was injured almost to the point of death. From his perspective, it wouldn’t make sense to call his injuries significant. The person in front of him was almost like a corpse.

Anyway, after calming and consoling Ezel a bit, he mentioned that he had formally joined BDSM after leaving Dome.

“Who decided that? I don’t like it.”

“Ah, why!”

“Look, if you had stayed in Dome, we could have called you whenever we needed an exosuit 1 + 1, joining our homebound slug. Would that have been better? Go back! Go hang on to the President’s coattails!”

“Kuh, this harsh and biting feeling… it’s definitely you! I missed this!”

“What, what madness…”

It turns out, two months ago, he had gone through various events that significantly changed his perspective.

“Just my concept of justice changed. You know, eventually, a world will come where a child on the street, when asked how to take cover from enemy artillery, won’t have to ask ‘What’s that?’ A world where you can ask a lone child where their parents are without automatically assuming they are dead. It would be good to live according to the old justice when such days come.”

“…”

“But that’s not the case now, right? These days, kids learn the Mozambique drill sooner than multiplication, and instead of toys, they receive knives as gifts. As adults who created this era, we do have some duty to bear a cold, damp justice.”

“You… Huh. Yeah, I guess that makes sense.”

Change of beliefs and the current situation in Dome. He said hundreds of refugees flood in daily. In matters of survival, people become selfish and ruthless. There would have been divisions within Dome too, and given the restrictions on the Investigation Bureau’s movements, he wanted to maintain his sense of justice outside the group…

“Refugee? What’s that? No way. If there’s any dissident, President Young would send them straight to the Underdome Human Development Program. Ian and I drove a tank into the Investigation Bureau’s quarters and got kicked out. They asked me to choose between opposing Dome or BDSM, but I couldn’t answer. That’s when I made my decision.”

Damn, I was a fool to ask.

During the remaining time we had (Ezel mentioned there was a set visiting duration per person), we just chatted idly until I was about to kick him out when one last question popped into my mind.

“Hey. Why hasn’t Vex come?”

“Hic!”

At that, Ezel jumped as if scorched by fire.

‘…Could it be?’

“Uh, um, Vex… ahahaha, that, um…”

‘No way. Could it be possible? Could it?’

“Is Vex dead?”

“Ah, no! Not dead! Came back alive, shooting guns and swinging knives, so energetic!”

“Then why hasn’t he come? It seems like him to be the first one here.”

“He’s… busy! Yes! Super busy, so busy his eyebrows are fluttering! Ah, my time’s up! I’ll visit again! Bye!”

Ding-!

[Player ‘Soygaybar’ has logged out.]

Ezel, who clung desperately at times, now hurriedly fled.

The reason for his behavior became clear when Vex visited that evening.

“Sorry… Hepburn. It’s just, the blood, it gets dirty, keeps sticking annoyingly…”

He had reverted to the speech patterns from when we first met.

Just like my friends who couldn’t laugh at my situation before, now I was the one who couldn’t joke about it.

Vex looked really bad.

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