Clearing the Game at the End of the World Chapter 164

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Chapter. 10 Lead and Silver Coins (18)

****

Taang!

Taaaang-!

Two warning shots heard from afar. It was Vex. To be honest, I was worried that the guy, whose shooting skills were not very reliable compared to close combat, would be able to shoot properly, but it seems like he was aware of that and just fired into the air.

Although the bullet flew in the wrong direction, the effect was certain.

Slam!

Chiiing –

Ian immediately woke up and raised the shotgun while lying on the sofa.

Ezel jumps out of bed in an instant and holds a sharp knife to the intruder’s neck.

“That is a very impressive welcome. “Did I wake you up?”

“Oh, of course. My wife appeared in my dream. I woke up just as I was about to put pumpkin pie in my mouth. “Thank you so much.”

“It was nothing.”

White suit and pure white gloves. Likewise the white mask and hat. The man who had previously identified himself as W sounded extremely happy despite the fact that a fatal blade was hanging right in front of his carotid artery.

“I really wanted to talk to you guys at least once. “It happened to be close to where I worked, and everyone seemed to have made an appointment to visit here one after another and talk to each other, so I stopped by.”

The professor glanced towards the door. The door is tightly closed and the lock on the door is closed. There was also an alarm trap that was installed roughly with metal scraps sprinkled on it to prevent any intruders. There was no trace of anything being touched.

A realm where imagination is possible. It wasn’t so fast that it couldn’t be seen.

‘Damn it…’

Friend or enemy? What and how should we respond?

During the short confrontation, we tried to figure out all the possible cases, but all we got back was the empty conclusion of ‘unknown’.

A strange phenomenon in the wasteland. It is no exaggeration to say that his logic was extremely weak against the Artists’ Union, which is no doubt at its peak.

“You said you came because it was nearby… Is this really true? “Are there any space restrictions there in the first place?”

The professor somehow managed to continue the conversation while feeling cold sweat running down the back of his neck. I’m here to talk, so first I have to see if I can find out anything.

At my doubt-filled question, a small cough came out of his mouth. It was only when I saw his body shaking slightly that I realized it was laughter.

“Oh, this, this. You’re telling an interesting story. This is not Gedreutz’s world, this is reality. “I am not a wizard.”

“Then what about here?”

“I walked in.”

“What is the ability to arrive anytime, anywhere, in an instant, just by making an appointment?”

“I just value the time commitment.”

“Why do you collect useless paintings and sculptures?”

“hobby.”

“Why did you come here?”

“Like I said before, just-”

“Just stop telling me that you came here to talk. I’ll drill another hole in your head. Talking without even thinking about answering properly? “Let’s see where the jokes and jokes are, even if half of the brain is gone.”

The muzzle of the gun touched his mask, and the trigger, lukewarm from body temperature, tickled his fingertips.

shoot If you say one more word of nonsense, I will shoot you. I won’t kill you because I have something to find out. At this angle, the left tooth and cheek would be blown off and the face would end up looking like a rag.

A moment of silence. And

mate. match. match. match.

Laughter and trembling like a cough. Applause filled with admiration. As he bowed and clapped loudly, his neck was grazed by Ezel’s dagger and blood flowed, but his admiration did not stop. Although his expression could not be seen behind the mask, his every action showed that he was truly happy.

“bravo. bravo. It’s a good thing I came to see you, after all. I can’t believe I’m still alive like this. It’s truly worth it. The collector’s judgment was right this time. As always. “When I first saw you, I didn’t think you had much value.”

“You’re just talking unintelligible things. Do you not know what conversation means? “I will tell you step by step here, so shall we talk about it one by one from the beginning again?”

“Kuhuk coolhook!” Ah, this is exactly what I am talking about. “Even though flowering has begun, it still maintains such a vibrant self.”

Collector. joy. Ego. flowering.

Words of unknown meaning were dancing dizzyingly in my head.

“…I owe you a debt, and I think we’ll be together someday, so it’s okay if I tell you a few things. How would you stand and listen with your friends in an uncomfortable position like now? Or would you rather start the ‘conversation’ you’ve been longing for over a cup of warm tea?”

….gulp.

While I was hesitating, I heard Ezel, who was closest to W, swallowing his saliva. You must have felt a strange sense of intimidation as he adjusted his slightly bloodstained white suit and adjusted his tie. like me.

In an instant, I shared a look with my companions. Ian strokes the trigger and aims the gun alternately at the heart and knee joint. Ezel slowly puts his sword back.

‘It’s 1 to 1.’

Ian chose to attack and Ezel chose to talk. I don’t know what Bex is doing outside, but it seems impossible to participate in the vote now, so it’s up to me.

The concerns were long and the answers were short.

“…Ezel.”

flinch!

“If you have any leftover tea, please bring it.”

A signal that you choose to have a conversation.

Slam!

With Ian’s dissatisfied groan, the muzzle of his gun rose and Ezel, with a life-like expression, ran toward the kitchen at lightning speed.

“Do you have any Darjeeling?”

“There is nothing but fake mushroom tea.”

When he talked about the mold-infused water that people in the wasteland often drink, his body began to tremble again.

“ha ha ha. I think we can put a value on your eloquence. “It’s memorable.”

“value? how much?”

“It’s not about the superficial value of money. Well, that’s right. “We can start from here.”

Sweet.

With perfect timing, Ezel placed two cups of tea on the table. Contrary to what I expected, both teas for guests were fine.

As if he liked the warmth, his gloved hand wandered around the teacup and then returned to the desk.

“We make all kinds of art. music. Reasons for collecting rare items from older generations. It’s not just a hobby. Even if we pile up a mountain of gold, no matter how precious the alloy, we do not feel it has much value. “The value we collect is a little different.” W.

An unidentified man opens his mouth in a very excited voice, as if he is truly happy to bring up this story .

W began the story about one of the most secretive groups in the wasteland in a light tone, as if it was nothing.

****

“Adapter. Ah, it refers to the type 3 variant among us. Which one is more comfortable for you? Type 3 variant? Adapter?”

“It doesn’t matter, so just keep going.”

“Then you are an adaptor. In any case, cases where adaptors occur are extremely rare. In some cases, ‘a will strong enough to transcend death led to their second life.’ Well, there was this type of cartoon-like story floating around, and if that were the case, we would have seen a lot more adaptors than we do now. I have seen countless people in the wasteland burning their will to live in the face of death. Some of them showed a glimmer of potential, but failed to take the last step and ended up as ordinary Type 2 mutants. “It’s heartbreaking.”

W paused for a moment and brought his hand to the teacup once again. This time, instead of lifting the teacup, he just gently swept its surface.

“We really studied ourselves passionately. What is type 3 variant? Why do some people become giant monsters and others remain in a human-like form? “Are we monsters or humans?”

His voice became stronger in the last question.

“I would like to ask your opinion on the conversation we are having. I am an adaptor, what you call a type 3 variant. He died during the Great War, was reborn, lived for 6 years, has faint memories of my past ‘original form’, and sits before you with his own thoughts, will, and purpose. Am I human? Or is it a monster born from the whim of a virus?”

“….”

“That’s a good answer. “Please remember that silence well.”

He seemed to like my lack of response and stopped talking for a moment and quietly joined in the silence. It seemed like he was trying to decide what to say.

“…The story leaked. Let’s come back to the story about value. Through our newborn comrades who succeeded in creating and protecting artists’ unions, we learned that adaptors cross memories like stepping stones at the time of their occurrence. From the moment of death to a 60th birthday party. From the sour taste of the first lemon I ate at the age of five to a car accident at the age of 45. From my first love when I was 12, to the memories of when I was 20 and wearing my graduation cap. It’s just going through memories that come to mind randomly, without any rules or forms. It is the most broken and broken moment in one’s life. “Just as Mad Maynie returns to the memories of those who raped her at the college freshman welcome party, the mutated virus races toward an unforgettable conclusion.”

W rested his chin on one hand and extended the finger of the other hand, pointing at me. For some reason, the gesture of silently pointing at me as if sharing a secret reminded me of my mother and father, and I became very uncomfortable.

“What were you…? Looking at that, does it look like a mafia?”

“Me? Mafia? Ha ha ha ha ha! Ah, it’s worth it. You’re very wrong. My archetype was a failure, an outsider, and a hippie. Do you say Yeokmasal….? I couldn’t easily stay in one place. Even if you find a job with difficulty, you suddenly leave. I got married and settled down, but then he left again. The desire to return to his home, a wealthy businessman, and the desire to not return to the home that coldly ignored his mother, who committed suicide, were both there. He, who had been wandering around his house all his life like a fly with its wings ripped off, died in the bombing. I remember him arriving at the last moment when he was eighteen. From the age of five, I thought, ‘I will become a great businessman like my father, who always wears a stylish white suit!’ It was that night when a boy with a dream stole his father’s stylish white suit and wore it. The wife, who was falling apart due to her husband’s frequent infidelity, began to turn to alcohol and drugs, and in her eyes blurred by the darkness and drugs, the man in the pure white suit looked just like her husband. His wife, who was longing for his affection, clung to the man in the white suit, and when her embarrassed son pushed her away, she felt completely abandoned…”

W

aimed his white glove at the lower neck, imitating the sound of a gunshot with his mouth. Instead of explaining the tragic ending.

“…That’s how I was born again. A wanderer who wants to return home but cannot. A man who hated himself, but deep in his heart he dreamed of becoming a businessman wearing a white suit like his father, whom he dreamed of as a child. A man who can go anywhere but cannot return home. “It is what was created by combining those keywords.”

W talks calmly as if it were someone else’s story. Maybe it really is someone else’s story. When he was born, that memory was a vague story of himself and another man that remained in my mind.

How would you feel if you had the memories of someone you didn’t know in your head and your life was determined by those memories?

Often in the community, people say, ‘I want to be that kind of variant.’ There was a time when I read the same article and had similar thoughts, but now I felt like I could never think like that again.

“How is it. Even though I have someone to protect with my life and no goal to achieve at the risk of death, I have succeeded in becoming an adaptor. What is important is the strong omission in the object’s memory and the ‘reference points’ of the memory that allow the memory to trace back to that point. There are many people who have suffered trauma, but most of them trace their memories back to that point and then lose consciousness. Well, it’s a memory I want to forget. “It means that only those who cannot or should not forget or have overcome something can reach that goal.”

“…I have a general idea of your past and the goals of the Artists’ Union. Type 3 variant…. So, do you want to increase the number of adaptors?”

“To be precise, we want to increase and protect.”

“So what does that have to do with the art you collect?”

Crunch Square –

Instead of answering, W dragged the note in front of me in front of him and quickly sketched and wrote something down.

Da Vinci’s Mona Lisa. Rodin’s The Thinker. The Last Supper. Van Gogh’s Starry Night. The Creation of Adam by Michelangelo.

Then it was a whistle. For Elise. Titanic title song. Other famous songs by Michael Jackson that you may have heard at least once, even if you don’t know the exact title.

“Now what comes to mind?”

The professor looked back at the memories that had just come to mind. When I saw a drawing of a woman without eyebrows in elementary school art class. When I was in middle school, I thought that people who had an upset stomach and thought about sitting on the toilet were actually sitting on the toilet. I remember crying while watching Titanic. I remember installing it to try to imitate the moonwalk.

“…Memories are really interesting. At first glance, it looks like a cross-section, but it is actually very three-dimensional. One memory is intertwined with another memory, and that memory is intertwined with another memory. Since we are not omniscient gods, we cannot know what memories are involved in the life of a dying person. However, these works of art that everyone has seen, heard, appreciated, and felt happy are part of common memories and are a part of memory that can be used as a reference point. Isn’t that what art is all about? Expressing emotions that cannot be explained in words through an abstract medium. “There is nothing better than this to stimulate the memories of someone who is dying.”

“…That value refers to something that will be remembered by many people.”

“You understand quickly. As a habit, you joke constantly. It’s quite funny and his unique speaking style is memorable enough. If you become famous and your speaking style becomes widely known, just recording the voice of the person called ‘professor’ will bring back many memories. “That’s what I meant by attaching value to your tone.”

After speaking, W looked at the pocket watch in his arms like a scene from a movie and stood up.

Slurp-

clap!

Sreung!

“this. “The story was so enjoyable that I almost missed my original goal.”

W tidied up his white clothes, adjusted his tie, swiped the teacup, and held out his hand to me.

“I had fun today. “It was truly worth your time.”

He hesitated for a moment, but he gave us a lot of information and didn’t threaten us.

Following him who extended his left hand first, he extended his left arm, which had undergone a transformation, and shook hands.

“Oh, I forgot to mention this. Once the mutant virus has started blooming, it will continue to move against your memory to establish itself. If you feel that dangerous times have arrived, please contact me using the ID on the business card I gave you. “You are a worthy person to end your life in vain as a type 2 variant.”

W says something horrifying as if it’s nothing.

“I’m… becoming mutated? I am different. “My left arm is different from yours…”

“Ask Him within for details.”

He tapped his head with his finger and opened the door to the hotel’s veranda.

His white suit fluttered in the cold night wind.

“I was originally planning to kill everyone who might interfere with my plan today, but… I have to repay my debt. If you don’t intervene in the future, I’ll tolerate it. Dojin…. Thank you for sending me off so well. I respected his will and watched him stay there, but if his suffering had lasted just a little longer… well, there would be no need to criticize him as he left. The night weather is cold. Close the door tightly and cover yourself with blankets. “It can be a bit noisy, so it’s better to wear earplugs and a bubble shield.”

“Do-jin… Kim Do-jin? Old picture?”

Instead

of answering, he held his hat and slightly lowered his head, then stepped backwards and fell over the railing without a moment of hesitation.

As soon as he disappeared from sight, W hurried out to the veranda, but as expected, he disappeared without a trace.

“…Hey, Ezel.”

“Oh Ian. say.”

“If you are religious, please lend me a cross, a rosary, or anything else.”

“…I have one for myself, so let’s sleep together. “I’m so scared that I can’t sleep alone.”

That was the group’s opinion about the Artists’ Union’s visit tonight.

Me and Ian. Ezel and Bex, who had found a sniper hiding nearby and threatened him by pointing his gun at the white man, came running out in a huff, saying they had seen a ghost. That day, we gathered on the bed and stayed up all night with our eyes wide open, each holding our trusted weapon.

Strange music was heard all night long from the outskirts of the city. Like thousands of orchestras playing different pieces of music at the same time, the sound of a lot of beautiful music mixed together and made into trash had a strange sensation, like a human panting, that made me tense my nerves.

Area 38 dome the next morning. In particular, the inspection department was in an uproar. Farm district, their main source of income. Beyond the dome’s city-level shield, all of their lowlifes, who had been crammed into a 4-person shelter, 10 people at a time, had disappeared. The soldiers and serfs who guarded the watchtower. The place where everyone had disappeared, including the agents of the inspection department who managed them, was filled with only various scratches and disorganized traces.

Crunch Crunch-

[Executive Department <-> Happy Blind <-> Artists’ Association]

The professor wrote a few more words on the notepad, crumpled it up, and threw it away.

“Even a wizard can’t do this, you crazy bastard…”

It was truly a clear, quiet, and unpleasant morning.

****

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Clearing the Game at the End of the World

Clearing the Game at the End of the World

CGEW, 세상의 끝에서 클리어를 외치다
Score 8.2
Status: Completed Type: Author: Released: 2021 Native Language: Korean
Professor Park, a Wasteland solo survivor for the past 7 years. Depleted supplies. A broken generator. A crazy gang tracking him down. At the brink of death, he makes a desperate decision! “Shit! You call this a game?!” To go inside a game!

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