Ch.18Ch.2 – The Demon Lord’s Daughter Is Getting Married (1)

    Following the violin sound down the stairs, I found myself in a basement.

    The shelves along the walls held dust-covered helmets and lanterns, while pickaxes, hammers, shovels, and sledgehammers were scattered across the floor.

    The lanterns were full of oil, with matches prepared beside them. Evidence that someone was meticulously maintaining them.

    After lighting a lantern and looking around, the basement interior became more clearly visible.

    The walls were made of brick and mortar, and the floor was well-paved with cement. On the wall opposite the stairs we had descended was a rust-covered steel door, not only large in size but appearing to be about 5cm thick.

    Fortunately, it was wide open; had it been closed, we would have struggled greatly to open it.

    Beyond the steel door were complex mechanical equipment and a vertical shaft. It was an elevator shaft with its drive mechanism. The machinery continuously grumbled in a low tone, powered by electricity from an unknown source.

    The elevator had no safety door. Just a spring-loaded metal safety net that could be manually pushed open and closed. Looking down the shaft, I could see the elevator car resting on the distant bottom floor.

    The frame was made of steel, but the body wasn’t solid metal plates but rather wire mesh. On the opposite end of the steel cable connecting the elevator was a metal weight serving as a counterweight.

    “This is puzzling,” said Abashina, holding the lantern up to the machinery. She seemed to be carefully examining how each gear and rope was connected.

    “The structure is inefficient. A normal electric elevator wouldn’t need such a counterweight. It looks like they modified a traditional elevator that uses counterweights, ropes, and pulleys by adding electrical equipment.”

    As I leaned my face into the shaft, I could smell rotten eggs and feel lukewarm heat.

    It was coming up from below the shaft, and squinting my eyes, I could see faint lights scattered here and there. The strange violin sound was also rising from there.

    Holding the lantern, I looked around the room and noticed a large chalkboard attached to one wall. It was rusty red from the characteristic dampness of the basement.

    I could make out words written in chalk: “Reserve tunnel. Support beams.”

    “Was this a coal mine? This must have been an elevator shaft for transporting miners.”

    That would explain the pickaxes and hammers at the entrance. The question is why such facilities would be openly placed beneath the Southern Cemetery.

    “We’ll use this. Since we’re uninvited guests,” said Abashina, pointing to a sheer wall beside the shaft. I could see a metal ladder extending downward. It looked so thin that gripping it with bare hands would be painful.

    “Let’s leave the lantern here. And just so you don’t get any indecent thoughts, I’m going down first.”

    Wondering if there was a special reason, I asked her. Abashina slapped my arm.

    “You really are a beast. Why? Are you that eager to look up my skirt? Pretending to know nothing while planning to peek?”

    While I was dumbfounded by this absurd accusation, Abashina grabbed the hem of her dress and tore off the bottom portion.

    Her long tunic was now shortened to a skirt that came above her knees. Abashina handed me the torn fabric.

    “The ladder edges are sharp, so wrap this evenly around your palms. Like boxers do. But not too thick.”

    Then Abashina swiftly descended, carefully and quietly, one step at a time.

    I followed a bit later after wrapping the cloth around my hands. I tried not to look down. I just focused on the wall in front of me and concentrated on descending one step at a time.

    Eventually, my finger joints began to ache. If Abashina hadn’t torn her skirt to provide temporary bandages, my hands and wrists would have been numb with pain.

    Just as I was getting used to the physical discomfort, my head started to hurt. It was because of the music coming from below.

    It wasn’t just one violin playing. Multiple violins were playing completely different pieces.

    From jazz piano pieces adapted for violin to Brahms’ Hungarian Dance, the variety was extensive. The chaos was amplified by the different tempos and tones.

    I had to endure it. Trying to ignore the noise, I continued downward.

    As I descended, I heard other sounds too.

    Footsteps. The clang of pickaxes hitting rock. The creaking of carts moving on rails.

    What was missing was human voices, and what was present was music pouring out dissonance.

    Abashina was sitting on the elevator roof with her hand covering her mouth. As I stepped onto the elevator roof, she pointed toward the exit.

    Like the entrance, there was no safety door or any kind of screen, so the view was completely unobstructed.

    If only… if only it had been dark.

    The space was as vast as a sports field, with no visible walls or pillars. Bonfires and torches fixed to the floor provided light.

    And railway tracks of different sizes stretched far away like roots of weeds, long and sprawling.

    The space beyond the elevator shaft was enormously vast. The height was truly dizzying.

    It was strange. I hadn’t climbed down the ladder that far.

    The floor wasn’t just covered with lights and railway tracks. There were also thick high-voltage cables. Like long eels, they constantly writhed and convulsed.

    At the end of the high-voltage cables was a large transformer. Like blood flowing from thick veins to capillaries, the wires became thinner and more densely packed. They were all connected to phonographs.

    I couldn’t even begin to count how many phonographs there were. Just within my immediate view, there were over thirty.

    The phonographs were spread out as densely as the intersections on a Go board, stretching into the distant darkness.

    All of them were emitting strange, eerie moans.

    And.

    And near those phonographs.

    There were corpses moving about.

    “This is… this is…”

    Abashina removed the cloth she had been using as a blindfold. She slightly opened her mouth, then put a gag in it and bit down hard.

    One would have been horrifying. Ten would have been frightening. A hundred would have made me furious at whoever committed such an evil act.

    But there were too many. Hundreds? Thousands? Tens of thousands? Hundreds of thousands?

    An incomprehensible number of zombies were swinging pickaxes, digging with shovels, and carrying away discarded stones.

    The zombies seemed completely indifferent to whether they were digging into another zombie’s back or into the ground.

    Some zombies were even trying to dig rocks with worn-out shovels.

    Someone collapsed. Others tripped over the fallen body and fell too, but the zombies kept getting back up.

    And all of them moved in rhythm with the nearby phonographs.

    Those near phonographs playing fast-tempo music moved quickly. Those near slow phonographs reacted very slowly.

    Abashina lay down, crying and lamenting. I gently placed my hand on her shoulder. She was trembling all over.

    She was angry. She was suffering. And she was afraid. The same woman who had boldly confronted dozens of mafia members.

    As I bent down to encourage Abashina, my notebook fell from my front pocket with a thud.

    The notebook Crayfield had given me. The guidebook.

    Crayfield had said:

    “…If combat seems likely, retreat to safety. Gather as many clues as possible and learn how the situation unfolds.”

    Crayfield had also said:

    “…Completing this quest might bring some reward. What could be more disappointing than a hero completing a quest and receiving nothing in return?”

    Looking at the notebook, a worn-out joke came to mind.

    “The reader laughs at the disciple’s stupidity. It’s amusing how someone supposedly learned complicates simple matters that could be solved with common sense, only to shoot themselves in the foot.”

    In a world where one falls from earth to sky. Abashina had said to me:

    “Don’t open your ears to echoes. What we need to see isn’t the ripples on the surface.”

    “Beasts ultimately can’t suppress their nature.”

    “You really imprison yourself in the framework of common sense, just like humans.”

    “Tell me, beast. How can you pretend to be human like that?”

    If I were human. If I were a hero. I would find a way to kill all these zombies. Because that would be justice. But what if I applied the common sense of a beast?

    A beast thinks of only one thing. One clear objective. I took out the guidebook Crayfield had given me. There was one sentence written in it.

    [Quest: Rescue Becket O’Brien.]

    What would *you* do?

    *Please continue reading if you wish to accept the quest and intervene in the situation.*

    *Please stop here if you do not wish to accept.*

    .

    ..

    ….

    …..

    ……

    [YOU HAVE CONTROL PRESS ANY KEY]

    *You accept your destiny*

    *Now you are the protagonist*

    *Since the quest objective is to rescue O’Brien, O’Brien is revived in a rescuable state – alive.*

    *Rescue O’Brien and gain honor.*

    A scream is heard from afar. It’s O’Brien, returned from death.

    You quickly climb down the ladder.

    You fire your weapon: Sawed-off shotgun at the thick cable. (1/2)

    Critical hit! But the cable isn’t cut yet.

    The zombies pay no attention to you.

    You fire your weapon: Sawed-off shotgun at the thick cable. (0/2)

    Cable cutting successful! The cable breaks and sparks fly.

    You quickly move away.

    All phonographs shut off at once. All zombies freeze in place.

    A living person screams and flails in the forest of corpses.

    Abashina leaps forward behind you.

    Abashina has rescued O’Brien!

    Confused O’Brien’s sanity rapidly decreases!

    Abashina casts Hypnosis: Bang! O’Brien faints.

    Abashina runs carrying O’Brien over her shoulders.

    ! Boss Appearance Warning !

    The Gravekeeper plays the violin. It’s Brahms’ Hungarian Dance.

    Millions of zombies simultaneously focus on *you*.

    Abashina jumps onto the elevator and lays O’Brien down.

    Abashina equips weapon: Thompson submachine gun, shortened model (50/50).

    Abashina fires weapon: Thompson submachine gun, shortened model to cover *you*. (44/50)

    *You* grab the ladder and climb onto the elevator in the nick of time.

    Warning: The Gravekeeper is enraged!

    A bestial howl erupts from his mouth!

    Millions of zombies simultaneously rush toward the elevator *you* are on!

    *You* discard weapon: Sawed-off shotgun.

    *You* instruct Abashina to shoot at the Gravekeeper.

    Abashina fired weapon: Thompson submachine gun, shortened model at the Gravekeeper! (22/50)

    The Gravekeeper took no damage!

    You struck Abashina on the back of her neck!

    Abashina fainted.

    *You* concentrate and recite a spell.

    The word “fall” is inadequate. Fall (墜落) means to drop from above to below.

    Among the words *you* know, there now exists a word for falling from below to above.

    Because *you* already *know* that word.

    [Thus this should rightfully be called “rising-fall” (墜昇)]

    The elevator makes a clanking sound and shoots upward rapidly.

    The enraged Gravekeeper’s howls and violin sounds can be heard.

    The elevator stops at the top.

    *You* safely place Sister Abashina and Becket O’Brien in the room with the thick iron door, and retreat to safety yourself.

    *You* pick up weapon: Thompson submachine gun, shortened model and fire at the pulley hanging from the ceiling.

    Critical attack successful!

    The pulley is damaged and the elevator plummets down!

    [Quest Completion Notice: You have rescued Becket O’Brien.]

    *You have saved everyone*

    Your assistant has fainted…

    [YOU LOSE CONTROL PRESS ANY KEY]


    0 Comments

    Heads up! Your comment will be invisible to other guests and subscribers (except for replies), including you after a grace period.
    Note
    // Script to navigate with arrow keys