episode_0111

Most commonly used drones are unmanned aerial vehicles. But this one, commonly known as a dog-horse type robot, was also a type of drone: an unmanned ground vehicle. Jay Q, who had a significant interest in vehicles and drones, approached the endangered species before him with an intrigued gaze, as if it fell within his realm of interest. He fiddled with its joints, examined its exterior, and scrutinized it as if taking it apart, then kicked it *thump-thump* to check its balance. It staggered, managed to regain its balance and stand, but was kicked again without a moment’s rest, swaying *sway-sway* pathetically.

“Aside from the old model, the gyroscope self-balancing system seems to be updated to the latest version, and it has everything: a camera, even a speaker. But can it operate in this smog?” In that short amount of time, Jay Q seemed to have learned all he needed to know. He nodded once, then gave the dog-horse type robot a final, powerful *thud* shove. The robot stumbled back, almost falling to the ground as it lowered its stance and regained balance, then turned its camera on me and Jay Q, as if cursing us.

“The one controlling it must be watching through the camera. Is it okay to treat it like this?”

“Haha! You haven’t grasped this Hyung-nim’s deep intentions, profound as the ocean! Think about it. The reason someone uses such an old junker isn’t because of its performance, but obviously out of affection. No, there’s a high possibility they have not just affection, but deep attachment.”

I had heard such stories before. The story of an EOD (Explosive Ordnance Disposal) team sending out a bomb disposal robot to neutralize an IED, and when the robot was incinerated by the ignited explosive, the EOD operator cried inconsolably, calling out the nickname he had given the robot. At the time, I’d only read about it and thought, ‘So that really happens…’

Wait a minute.

“Then that means they’re looking at us very disapprovingly, doesn’t it?”

“Exactly!”

“Damn it! ‘Exactly,’ my ass!”

Unable to bear the anger at him needlessly making enemies, I pulled out the small pump-action shotgun from my pocket and pointed it at Jay Q, needing to vent this frustration. Jay Q raised both hands in surrender, a wronged look on his face, but his mouth didn’t stop.

“Hey, think about it. In a restricted zone where Genotech employees block the entrance to keep even a single mouse out, who else would be operating besides Wild Hunt? If we’re going to meet them anyway, isn’t it easier to have them come find us?”

“You son of a bitch, are you trying to fake your way through this just because you’re too lazy to search?”

I brought down the butt of my gun on this reactionary’s head, punishing him, wondering if he even understood that we came to recruit Wild Hunt, not to wage war.

“Aargh!!”

*Crack!*

With a resounding *thud*, Jay Q collapsed weakly to the floor. Kicking Jay Q, who was writing a dying message on the floor with red ink oozing from his cracked head, I clasped my palms together in front of what seemed to be Wild Hunt’s dog-horse robot’s camera and begged for forgiveness.

“That scoundrel isn’t fully human yet…”

[“…”]

As if accepting my sincere apology, the robot made *clack-clack-clack* sounds, walked past me, and slammed its metal-framed leg into the back of the fallen Jay Q’s head.

*Crunch!*

Another resounding sound was heard, and the body of the one sprawled on the floor twitched… twitched… like a fish that had just finished rigor mortis, but… he’d be fine. That guy was sturdy enough to get beaten by Blake day in and day out without ever getting seriously injured, so I decided not to worry about him.

The robot, having exacted its revenge, turned around again.

[“Haaah…”]

A deep, low voice, altered slightly by the speaker, sounding like a dignified middle-aged man. It was a stark contrast to its comical appearance, which looked like merely the skeleton of a dog.

[“You don’t seem to be from Genotech… Who are you?”]

“I’m John… Ayakashi Jun, CEO of R&B Risk Control.”

[“A peculiar name. John Ayakashi Jun.”]

“Goddamn it. Just Ayakashi Jun, without the ‘John’ part.”

[“I see.”]

If my name really had such an out-of-this-world naming sense as ‘John Ayakashi Jun,’ I’d point an anti-tank missile at the Supreme Court right now and apply for a name change.

[“By the way, I haven’t heard of a company called R&B Risk Control. Is it new?”]

“It’s a brand new company name, hot off the press, just registered yesterday.”

Unexpectedly, the person beyond the robot, presumed to be Wild Hunt, showed no particular reaction to the name Ayakashi. The robot turned around, walking *clack-clack* on the slightly damaged asphalt road, attempting to disappear back into the smog it had emerged from. Its slow, unhurried walk seemed to be an invitation to follow. I decided to follow, dragging Jay Q’s cold body, from whose head a fountain of blood was still *trickling*.

A street steeped in dreary smog. A quadrupedal robot led the way, followed by me and Jay Q. I broke the short silence that had begun as we walked through the streets.

“You’re Wild Hunt, right?”

[“…That’s what outsiders call us. However, ‘Wild Hunt’ doesn’t refer to me specifically, but to our collective group.”]

“I know. You hunt monsters in Tony Bonnie’s restricted zone, right? Though I wonder what ‘monster’ even means in this day and age.”

The nuance of ‘monster’ typically refers to ugly humanoid creatures in sewers, or things like chupacabras and Grey aliens. However, it was already known in my original world that there was no Nessie in Loch Ness, nor monsters in Baekdu Mountain’s Heaven Lake; it couldn’t be anything but an absurd notion. Yet, they must have some achievements to be called monster hunters who capture monsters, even if it’s a fictional designation that earns them the title of “legend.”

‘Are they hunting chrome psychos or heinous criminals hiding in the restricted zone?’ If so, they’d be closer to vigilantes than mercenaries, but the distinction isn’t always clear. In fact, it’s more like vigilante groups also dabble in mercenary work and even gang activities.

[“Exactly. We hunt monsters.”]

As the direct party, I expected a more realistic answer, but the actual reply was that they genuinely hunt monsters. I felt my face contort strangely.

[“You don’t believe me?”]

“Normally, it’s hard to believe someone who suddenly says monsters actually exist, isn’t it?”

[“There are too many hidden things in this city. Especially because even the nominal restraints that bound corporations have been removed under the guise of deregulation.”]

I couldn’t help but purse my lips at those words. Indeed, how many results of experiments that had discarded ethics had I seen so far? The artificial quasi-humans redesigned by Bram Stoker based on Genotech’s discarded research data, and the worker vampires. Dr. Pointless, an AI who had gained self-awareness through introspection, and the shape-shifter who was his assigned test subject. The serum that forcibly transformed Ayakashi into a Zashiki-warashi, still unknown whether he was merely an incredibly lucky human or truly a Yokai. Even with just what I’d discovered, there were so many, making it impossible to assert that there were no failed creations carelessly abandoned to save disposal costs.

If so, then was Wild Hunt a group that sought out and directly disposed of such failed creations?

“By the way, where are you taking us?”

[“To a safe zone. Monsters usually don’t try to leave their territory, but the restricted zone itself is their territory. If you had stayed there, you would have been attacked.”]

“I see…”

I had wanted to meet them once, having come all this way, but I figured I’d naturally see them if I just kept following Wild Hunt.

“So, are you the leader of Wild Hunt?”

*Clank!* At my question, the dog-horse robot’s steps stopped.

[“No. And calling someone ‘the leader of Wild Hunt’ is a bit of a misnomer. Wild Hunt only has a vanguard; they don’t move by taking orders.”]

So their chain of command is a mess?

[“We merely run, following whoever runs towards the monster first.”]

“Are you a biker gang?”

[“Ha. You could see it that way, I suppose.”]

I couldn’t even begin to grasp what kind of organization they were. They were called a legend, but their scale and form were unknown, so I began to doubt whether recruitment was truly something to consider.

*Thump— Thump— Thump—*

From afar. And faintly, the sound of a giant pulsating beat.

“A strange sound…”

“Ugh… What is this… I feel a bit nauseous…”

Jay Q, clutching his head and grimacing from the pulsating beat, widened his sight through his cyberdeck to remotely control drones and respond to the sudden anomaly. The shared view was nothing but smog, smog, smog— Jay Q clicked his tongue at Tony Bonnie’s peculiarity, where the advantage of unmanned aerial vehicles—their wide, aerial view—was completely diminished. Yet, to pierce through the blocked visibility, he sent a few drones deep into the smog like bait.

And then—

[No signal] [No signal] [No signal]

The screens transmitting from the three drones that had entered the smog simultaneously turned to ‘No signal,’ indicating that something was lurking within.

[“It seems our small talk lasted too long. It’s already here.”]

“…Is that the monster over there?”

Beyond the hazy, heavy smog, there was only silence, reflecting no silhouette whatsoever. It was hard to believe something was there. But judging by the strange noises that suddenly appeared, the destroyed drones that lost their signal, and the robot’s affirmative nod of its upper body, instinct told me not to let my guard down from now on.

[“There’s no choice. I can’t lose Pyongpy, so hold on for a moment. I’ll come for you soon.”]

“What?”

The robot slowly retreated to the edge of the road, hunkering down to hide.

[“I wish you good luck.”]

At that sight, Jay Q and I looked at each other without a word.

“Shit.”

“This sucks.”

The toxic smog, hanging like a curtain, rippled.