Chapter 73: Chapter 73

00073 --- The Little Prince in the Ossuary----=

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# After the Rain, Camp Roberts (3)

The scenery returning to Camp Roberts was quite different from the past. The vast land nearby was etched thousands of times with dark dirt-colored straight lines, making it feel as if they were entering a giant farmland.

The area of the farmland was expanding in real-time. Dozens of U. S. military trucks towing seeders slowly etched lines at a speed of 2 miles per hour. However, it wasn't real farming. What they were planting weren't seeds but landmines. As the large and sturdy plow cut through the soil, landmines dropped into the deep furrows, and flat metal plates pushed the soil to fill them in.

An infantryman disembarked and followed behind, walking at a normal pace. Their role was to visually confirm that the mines were properly buried.

Gyeo-ul thought that the bizarre metaphor he came up with was amusing.

How many sparks were lying in wait to germinate on this vast land?

The automated mine-laying equipment (M57 ATMDS) could bury 2,300 mines in half a day. 「Combat Sense」 brought forth 「Insight」.

An estimate appeared on the augmented reality UI: about 27,000 mines were buried in the visible range.

All of them were anti-tank mines, primarily a means of denying access to 「Grumble」.

With the power to destroy tanks and blow up armored vehicles, 「Grumble」 would die instantly upon stepping on them. They would also pose a threat to other special mutants. Typically, they have significant weight.

In Gyeo-ul's view, there were pros and cons. The defense capability would certainly be enhanced. However, there would be limitations on evacuation routes in emergencies. Although unlikely, if the defense line collapsed or an outbreak of infection began inside the fortress, it would be problematic in many ways.

The driver grinned and asked, "Is that a love letter?"

Huh? Gyeo-ul blinked and looked down at his hand under the mischievous gaze of the driver. Oh, dear. He had been subconsciously fiddling with a neatly folded letter the whole way.

"It's nothing that romantic."

"Come on, don't be like that. You seemed quite serious about it when you read it. Who sent it?"

The soldiers riding together all showed curiosity. In today's America, few were more famous than Gyeo-ul. The personal affairs of celebrities made for intriguing gossip, especially when it was about romance.

Rumors were likely to spread incorrectly. Gyeo-ul shook his head.

"It's nothing like that. Besides, the sender isn't even a woman."

"No way! You like men, then?"

It was not a funny joke.

The sender of the letter belonged to the 「Triad」 and introduced himself as the joint representative of the survivors of the Huàshēnghuà and the Shuǎngfǎngbāng. ᴛʜɪs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪs ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ʙʏ novel~fire~net

In the letter, he praised Gyeo-ul's benevolence and achievements with luxurious rhetoric before getting to the main point.

"Dear Leader! We no longer want to recognize Li Qinjian. While it is true he was once the leader of the New Yi'an, to become the leader again, he must go through the formal election process as tradition dictates."

"Besides, we have always been a separate organization from the New Yi'an. We understand that you see us as part of a single entity. Yes, within the broader framework of the Triad, we belong. However, we want you to understand that even within it, organizations and lineages split. Just as the Triad exists within the Black Society."

"But here, we had a small number, and we needed a place to trust with our families. That's why Li Qinjian has discriminated against us all this time. He was the one who broke the vow to treat us as equal brothers. We heard you didn't join the Triad for the same reason. Indeed, you were wise."

"Despite such discrimination, we had no choice but to endure. Being part of the Triad meant we turned our backs on other compatriots. Even if we were to become independent, sacrifices would be inevitable, and even then, it was uncertain whether survival would be possible after numbers dwindled."

"Moreover, we have many orphans and widows among us. Other brothers, who stepped forward to save compatriots when the Morgellons infection spread, never returned. As the Bai Zhixian of Huàshēnghuà, I pledged to take responsibility for their families in their stead. The situation is the same for Shuǎngfǎngbāng. Please don't think we are just thugs. The words exile and rogue share a meaning in Chinese (流氓)."

"Dear Leader! Please take us in. We wish to follow you, who always upholds righteousness, benevolence, and chivalry. You could become the first leader of the 'Huàshuǐ,' or you could include us in the 「Gyeo-ul Alliance」. We will surely repay this kindness. Please, we earnestly ask."

At the end of the letter, which was densely packed with small handwriting to save paper, there was a postscript with a method for making secret contact with them.

Assuming the contents of the letter were true, there was room for salvation. The sins of gangsters are their own responsibilities. One cannot impose collective responsibility on their families. If they are in dire straits, it might be worth considering accepting the request.

There were doubtful parts. Morgellons, called shīchuāng in Chinese, means a disease where the skin rots like a corpse. So the claim that the criminals of Huàshēnghuà and Shuǎngfǎngbāng had taken initiative to save Chinese people during the initial spread on the North American West Coast—was it true? Could there be such humanity in those who ran gambling dens, sold women to brothels, and peddled drugs?

Gyeo-ul deemed it plausible.

"Well, gangsters... they're people for whom keeping up appearances is important. They might have really stepped up for show, to look good internally. Didn't they receive protection fees? They might have planned to go out earnestly, hide in a safe place, pass the time suitably, and then return."

Or, by the slimmest chance, it could have been a dramatic change in those who faced a colossal catastrophe.

In any case, it wasn't a decision Gyeo-ul alone could make. At the very least, he needed to seek advice from the two Captains. To show that they were respected.

Some of the vehicles entering the base headed straight to a construction site. The lumber, dried through a kiln and cut to specifications, was ready for use without additional processing.

Gyeo-ul supervised the distribution of materials. This was because cooperative organizations, under the protection of the alliance, had requested to prevent any fraud during the distribution process. Whether or not the young officer had supervisory authority didn't matter.

Traveling from zone to zone, unloading the materials, most people seemed to regard Gyeo-ul as the one in charge. Even the engineering corps, originally responsible for supervision, did so.

The people who came to receive the materials expressed gratitude to Gyeo-ul. At this, the soldiers questioned the oddity.

"They're thanking us in their language. They're saying thank you, not calling us over."

The ethnic diversity in the refugee zone was remarkably high. As people flocked from East Asia and Oceania, there were dozens of nationalities.

However, the population distribution was predominantly Chinese, Japanese, and Korean, with refugees from Australia and New Zealand having been transferred to a different base. Other nationalities were just a handful. Most extremely, there was just one family of refugees from Tuvalu.

Being fewer in number, they were just lumped into one community zone, located across from the Chinese community zone. They typically didn't encounter each other.

Only after dealing with the alliance's segment did Gyeo-ul head toward the alliance. It was where construction had begun first within the alliance's sphere of influence. The groundbreaking ceremony had been held here.

"Commander, are you coming back now? You've really worked hard today, hahaha."

A stranger approached. He was wearing thick clothing, with the alliance's emblem, a snowflake knot, attached to his right arm like an armband. It was a sign indicating middle managers. His laugh felt slightly servile, and his waist naturally bent.

"Oh, yes. I've met you a few times... I'm sorry, but what was your name again?"

Gyeo-ul asked, already knowing. The man's lips trembled slightly. Just for a moment. He introduced himself with a smile so wide it hid his eyes.

"Oh, you don't have to apologize. It's understandable given your busy schedule that you might forget. My name is Baek San-ho."

"I see. Could I borrow your radio for a moment?"

Construction sites didn't use military channels. It was more convenient for Gyeo-ul to borrow one from someone on site than to change the settings on his own radio. The man handed over the radio with exaggerated politeness. Meanwhile, workers on scaffolding greeted Gyeo-ul from above. "Hello, hello."

The teen nodded in response a few times and called the Captains on the radio.

"Deputy leader Jang Yun-cheol, deputy leader Min Wan-gi. It's Han Gyeo-ul. Can you hear me?"

"We need to decide our stance, so please return to the base briefly."

"I'll be there right away."

The responses returned almost simultaneously, overlapping each other. The alliance headquarters was the very tent where Gyeo-ul and the alliance members had first met. Most of the residents had been replaced since then. It was now akin to the alliance's administrative office.

Gyeo-ul returned the radio to Baek San-ho. Then, observing his attire intently, he extended his hand for a handshake.

"Haha, yes. You too, commander."

Baek San-ho's bare hands were warm, smooth without a hint of roughness.

He immediately ran to the construction site. People around him turned to look once more. Some tilted their heads, while others frowned as they alternately glanced at him and Gyeo-ul. They were visible at a distance, but with the enhancement from 「Firearms Proficiency」,

Gyeo-ul could see them clearly.

"There was no smell of sweat."

Of course, not all work was sweat-producing.

Gyeo-ul looked idly at the hand that had shaken Baek San-ho's. The dusk wind blew cold between his fingers.

That man, working outdoors in windy and cold weather, without even wearing gloves, had warm hands, and what's more, there were no traces of dirt or sawdust.

Gyeo-ul looked around at the drum barrel filled with firewood. Though several of these rest spots were available, few used them.

Mid-level managers with snowflake knots were no different. They all dressed lightly for the weather.

The boy shook his head.

"He should be told to use it moderately and then let go."

There's also a method of pointing out and waiting for an adjustment. It might be fairer that way. However, the alliance was a fledgling organization. The credibility of the initial executive group was important.

The boundary between what is fair and what should be done was, in essence, Gyeo-ul's idea of his personal limit.

The main base camp was nearly empty. A few men and women bowed their heads to Gyeo-ul as he entered. In the corner sat an elderly man who couldn't speak. Kang Young-sun greeted Gyeo-ul's return with a gentle smile. She waved her hands, not in sign language, but to indicate that she had a message to deliver.

There was no rush to find it. Gyeo-ul gestured that he would speak with her shortly and went a little further inside.

There was a kerosene heater and a table set up in that area. Gyeo-ul dragged three chairs close to the heater. As he sat near the heater to warm up briefly, Jang Yun-cheol was the first to arrive. Being young, he was energetic. He seemed breathless, as if he had been running. Gyeo-ul gestured to the chair across from him.

"Please sit. This is a matter that requires some time."

Min Wan-gi arrived slightly later. He offered a slight nod to Gyeo-ul and filled the remaining seat with unrushed movements.

Gyeo-ul explained the situation.

"... For these reasons, it seems we need to decide our stance. What are your thoughts?"

The responses were divided.

The former was Jang Yun-cheol, and the latter was Min Wan-gi. Observing the two Captains exchanging glances, a light smile naturally formed on Gyeo-ul's face.

---------------------------= Author's Notes ---------------------------=

1. The recent ratio of views to recommendations seems unusual. If there are 100 views, there should be around 1,000 recommendations for it to be normal, right?

What? Something seems off?

No way. I learned math from a transparent dragon. I know that subtracting 300 from 999 leaves 600, at least.

I might be a genius...

2. Time to use the seal breaker, I suppose. It's only the third page... if I write until the sun rises... kukuk... feel the burn...

Q. 淸流蓮: @Yesterday, since there was no post from the author full of youthful spirit, I began a re-read of Halkeginia. I've already read it six times, and The Little Prince in the Ossuary seven times, but it feels fresh every time! When you release a new work, you'll let us know with a notice, right?

A. Whoa... you're already anticipating a new work? More than that, the number of times you've re-read... whoa...

I don't plan on announcing a new release with a notice. Even after I started writing The Little Prince in the Ossuary, I didn't notify the readers of Halkeginia for a while. Later, everyone found out on their own, and through comments, informed other readers, so I thought there was no point in hiding it and shared it in the notes.

Q. 도화원님: @I thought youthful spirit came from an immature frontal lobe! Do all the great ancients live in a world of youthful spirit?!

A. The entrance to Dreamland where I reside is located in Songpa District, Seoul. Planning to relocate soon. :)

Q. RGZ95: @I guess I'm still lacking in youthful spirit... I need to train more @「email protected」

A. Hang in there! The best way to cultivate youthful spirit is through a textbook-centered learning method focused on national language, english, and math!

Q. 아젠장님: Your mindset seems different from writers nowadays. Most writers would stab readers in the back for profit and switch to premium... What I've seen from your writing makes me want to suggest you convert to premium due to the quality and quantity. (continues)

A. There's no @ in this comment, but I have something I want to say, so I'll write here.

Please don't think writers who switch to premium are backstabbing. They have their own challenges too.

While it may not be something readers need to worry about, I didn't mention this before, but Joyara recently revised their terms and conditions by removing the stated percentage in the settlement ratio from the agreement. Instead of specifying an exact percentage, they changed it to 'according to the settlement policy of the service.'

When I inquired, they said they did so because it was cumbersome to revise the agreement each time the settlement ratio changes. In other words, they intend to change the settlement ratio in the future without revising the agreement.

They assure us we won't incur a loss, but how can we trust that?

Even if it's kept, an agreement without a specified profit-sharing ratio isn't fair. It's normal for writers to feel anxious.