Chapter 28: Let’s go to see them first

“What the hell is this?”

The three of us were gathered in the living room of a roadside motel, sitting in front of the TV screen.

Unfamiliar red letters appeared.

Only four words floated in the center of the screen.

[Help me.]

I pointed to the screen and cautiously opened my mouth.

“Could this be… another distress signal?”

“No. At least… androids don’t use this kind of distress signal.”

Serika shook her head firmly.

Her eyes, as always, were calm and analytical.

“When we send distress signals, we usually attach coordinates and transmit them broadly. Displaying a message like this… it’s not even possible to implement.”

Now that she mentioned it, it did seem strange.

This wasn’t coordinates.

It was simply one emotional sentence asking for help—nothing more.

“So you’re saying an android didn’t send it.”

“Correct. At least, not as far as I know.”

‘Then who did?’

“Could it be… a mutant creature?”

I muttered, glaring at the screen.

The mutant creatures seemed intelligent, but not intelligent enough to establish a language system.

They moved, destroyed, and devoured based on pure instinct.

There was no way they would make a ‘plea’ like this.

Which meant there was only one possibility left.

“…No way.”

“Human?!”

“Is it a human, Chanwoo?”

Levi’s eyes widened.

All three of us arrived at the same conclusion simultaneously.

Something other than an android was asking for help, not with a distress signal, but with words.

Which meant… somewhere beyond this wasteland, there might still be a living human being.

“That’s impossible…”

I was a special case—someone who had been ‘possessed’ into this world from the outside.

Even that alone made me an exception to the rules of this world.

In other words, a miracle.

‘But could such a miracle happen twice?’

Impossible.

This was a world where humanity had been wiped out thousands of years ago, leaving only remnants.

In an environment where breathing itself was barely possible, the idea that someone else was alive went against all logic, probability, and even the system itself.

“Serika, what do you think?”

“To be honest… the probability is almost zero.”

Serika shook her head with a look even more cautious than usual.

“Chanwoo, your very existence is already logically inexplicable. And now, right after you appeared, another human survivor shows up?”

“Statistically, it’s impossible, Chanwoo,” Levi added.

“This planet’s environment is already unfit for human survival. If it weren’t for the distress signal at the beginning, you wouldn’t have survived either.”

I knew that well.

The day I first met Levi.

‘If she had been just a little later, I would have been torn apart by a pack of wolves.’

Or, if not, my head would have been ripped off by the first cry of the mutant creature that charged after them.

“So there’s only one conclusion.”

“Yes. It’s a trap.”

“More precisely, there’s a 98.56% probability that it’s a trap, Chanwoo.”

No one argued with that.

The likelihood that it was actually a human was just too low.

At this point, any entity capable of transmitting a message without coordinates, using an unknown signal, was already suspicious by nature.

“But… if that’s the case, why target us specifically?”

I muttered, staring at the screen.

Serika crossed her arms and began analyzing the situation.

“It’s likely a wide-area broadcast. Like when the human hunters scattered signals over a broad range. The transmission just happened to reach your base because the TV was turned on.”

“That sounds plausible, but…”

I slowly shook my head.

“Serika, but your rescue terminal didn’t react at all, right?”

“…Ah!”

Serika’s eyes widened in shock.

Her terminal was an elite-grade rescue device used by top-class androids.

There was no way it wouldn’t react to a wide-area distress signal—but it had remained completely silent.

“Which means… this message was sent specifically targeting us.”

“Does that mean the sender knows who we are?”

“That’s the most likely possibility.”

The simple phrase ‘Help me.’

There were no mechanical elements like a distress signal or command code embedded in it.

It was just a raw, desperate plea—a direct expression of the will to live.

Not ‘request for assistance’ or ‘location broadcast,’ but ‘help me’… without coordinates, without context, like someone sobbing and calling out to whoever might be listening.

‘Who could speak that way?’

Androids follow strict protocols when making distress requests—identifying the receiver, specifying the location, describing the situation.

They prioritize results over emotions, always.

But this message was different.

It was so deeply human, it was unsettling.

That only made me more certain.

This wasn’t meant for an android.

This was a desperate cry aimed at a human.

“So… what do you plan to do, Chanwoo?”

“I’m going.”

I stood up suddenly.

Both androids opened their eyes wide at once.

“Chanwoo, it’s too dangerous!”

“This is highly likely to be a trap! Just like the human hunters!”

“I know. That’s why I’m going to approach it cautiously.”

I turned off the screen and looked carefully at Levi and Serika.

“Serika. Can you track this signal?”

“Huh…?”

Caught off guard by the sudden question, Serika blinked.

She stared at me, startled for a moment, then quickly composed herself and replied.

“Um, if there’s still directional interference or residual patterns left… I think it would be possible to trace it back to some extent!”

Her voice grew more confident as she spoke, but beneath it, there was a subtle excitement.

It was as if just being trusted with a task made her genuinely happy.

“Good. Then I’ll leave the coordinates to you, Serika… Levi, you’re with me. Let’s gather supplies.”

“Are we really going?”

“Yeah. If it’s a trap, we’ll just tear it apart.”

I smiled quietly.

“And if someone’s really out there, whether they’re an enemy or an ally, their technology is valuable no matter what.”

The fact that they could send a transmission like this meant they still had significant technological capabilities.

‘If they were enemies, we’d seize it.’

‘If they were allies, we’d work together.’

“What’s the thing we’re missing most at our base right now?”

“…I think it’s a workshop where we can repair our equipment.”

“Exactly. No matter how big the underground parking lot is, without the tools to build things, it’s practically useless.”

As I said that, I tightened my grip.

“This could be dangerous. Really dangerous. But at the same time… it might be a chance to change everything.”

“O-Oh…! So it’s all or nothing, huh?”

“Yeah. So let’s go. If it’s a trap, we smash it. If it’s a chance, we make it ours.”

With that, we set off.

Breaking through the ruins, heading toward the place where the signal of someone asking for help was waiting.

***

The source of the signal Serika tracked down was a full 50 kilometers away from our base.

“They sent a signal from 50 kilometers out…?”

I muttered, and Serika nodded firmly.

“This is definite. To send a signal this far, it had to be precisely aimed at us.”

“…So they were targeting us from the start.”

Both Serika and Levi gave looks of agreement.

Last time, the distress signal spread by those human hunters barely reached 20 kilometers.

This time, it was more than twice that distance.

It was far too deliberate to be just a random emergency call.

And so, the three of us began moving toward this unknown transmitter—an existence we couldn’t yet call enemy or ally.

Fortunately, this expedition had more margin for error than the last.

Because Serika was with us, able to provide rear support.

We also didn’t have to worry too much about food.

Thanks to Serika repairing an old canned food factory, she had managed to bring along enough cans of tuna and mackerel to fill both her arms before we left.

Enough to keep the three of us fed for a week without starving.

With that, our estimated travel time was about four days.

We began our trek across the ruins.

***

On the second night.

Inside a crumbling concrete building on the outskirts of the city, we carefully lit a small campfire, staying out of sight of the mutant creatures roaming the area.

“Things are going smoothly,” Levi said as she opened a can.

The reflected firelight flickered faintly across her cold eyes.

“Yeah. It really is,” I said, nodding as I tore off a small piece of meat from my can.

The air was cold, and the environment harsh, but even so, this quiet night, the warm glow of the fire, and the presence of the two androids beside me were enough to give me a sense of peace.

But that peace didn’t last long.

“…Chanwoo, don’t move.”

Levi’s voice came sharply, so different from her usual tone that I froze in place without thinking.

Her gaze was fixed behind me.

Shff.

In the next instant, Levi conjured a black blade in her hand and dashed silently toward the darkness beyond the stairs.

Crackle!

A flash of light split the darkness as her sword swung—

“Please, please don’t kill me!!”

A tearful cry rang out, halting Levi’s blade mid-swing.

“…?!”

“Levi?! What’s going on?”

She turned her head toward me slowly, her eyes filled with both caution and confusion.

I approached cautiously, and finally saw what had stopped her.

A very small android.

Her long silver-white hair was dirty and matted, and the shabby black slip dress she wore was torn and soaked.

Her pale skin was marred with black circuitry and green infection marks, patterns of corrupted currents flowing across her body.

Her arms trembled irregularly, and her red eyes blinked in a broken rhythm.

It wasn’t just mechanical malfunction—it was a pure, instinctive fear.

But what struck me most were her eyes.

They burned a bright crimson, filled with terror and desperation.

Kneeling on the ground, the girl clutched her hands over her mouth, biting her trembling lips to hold back sobs.

“P-Please… don’t kill me…! I-I was just… hungry… I smelled something delicious and… and I just followed it here…!”

Her appearance was heartbreakingly human.

No—too human.

Levi remained on guard, not taking a single step closer.

Serika stayed back, holding her breath, watching the scene unfold.

And I…

I was speechless for a moment.

Because this sight was nothing like the “infected parasites” I had encountered before.