episode_0004

On the gently swaying “Great Road,” a motionless van stood, its silver body adorned with steel plates for protection.

The driver’s seat and passenger seat of the van were left open. Before the days of hardship, leaving the car door open without defense was foolish, but after the Catastrophe, it was an act of perfect suicide.

No matter how saintly one might be, it was hard to pass by a wide-open door on a vehicle. In Merbia, cars were valuable commodities, and even if one lacked driving skills, there could be food and water inside necessary for survival.

If someone collapsed inside the car, barely clinging to life, a Good Samaritan would sometimes appear.

While some individuals would simply take what they could use, abandon or kill people, and neatly strip the car clean, in Merbia, relatively speaking, there were more compassionate souls.

Sitting in the driver’s seat, seemingly unconscious, was a young man who had collapsed inside the car—a Samaritan from Libra. They were two members of Libra’s militia riding a still-functioning one-ton truck along the “Great Road.”

The “Great Road,” located within Manchester, was considerably safe due to Manchester’s military periodically clearing out wild animals, raiders, and Aelenis, as well as establishing checkpoints throughout the area. However, due to a shortage of soldiers, areas where the military’s influence waned were bound to exist.

The Manchester military authorities assigned Libra’s militia to patrol the “Great Road” near settlements friendly to Manchester. The selected militia members took turns patrolling the road every week, a superficial reason that masked their efforts to prove their worth to the military.

Although the military did not particularly favor the existence of militias like Libra’s, they tolerated them because diligent militia work freed up their army for deployment elsewhere, offering a vague advantage.

Due to financial constraints, Libra’s militia members patrolled without military uniforms, training, armed only with a walkie-talkie and a rifle. Yet, due to the safety of the “Great Road,” fatalities were rare.

The militia members on patrol this week were Victor, a staff member at Libra’s “Mouse’s Breath Inn,” and self-proclaimed “Libra Reckless Truck Driver” Mayzada. Under the permission of Phils, the Libra militia leader, the childhood friends were assigned together to the patrol unit on the “Great Road,” as there were no regulations against mixed-gender patrols.

It was Saturday afternoon as they aimed to return by Sunday morning, chatting about various topics while driving.

“You really have no intention of learning to drive? How do you plan to get home if I die while driving?”

Mayzada knew how to drive a truck, but Victor did not.

“I don’t. Just sitting in the driver’s seat makes me feel insane.”

“You have to overcome that fear! I was super nervous and almost got into so many accidents when I started. But look at me now! I’ve become Libra’s best truck driver!”

Victor chuckled at Mayzada’s words and opened the passenger window.

“You’re ridiculous.”

Hearing Victor’s blunt curse, Mayzada laughed instead of feeling offended.

“So, you really don’t want to learn?”

“I don’t… Wait! Mayzada!”

Their conversation, which almost reverted to square one, was abruptly cut off by Victor urgently pointing ahead with his finger.

“Why… What?”

Since the “Great Road” stretched without obstacles blocking the view (thanks to the tearful efforts of the Manchester Roads Commission to clear away abandoned cars and skeletons), distant objects were clearly visible.

The two witnessed a shining van blocking the lane they were driving in. Both the driver’s side and passenger’s side doors of the van were open.

Victor picked up the handset of the long-distance radio that was placed there.

“Discordia, this is Hestia… Meisa, where are we?”

“Middle-class residential area!”

“Instead of that, by the area identification code!”

“Near H402 to H403! And you don’t really need to say that!”

“…Van spotted blocking the lane at the boundary point between H402 and H403. Seeing both the driver’s side and passenger’s side doors open, it appears to be the vehicle involved in the accident.”

As Victor transmitted over the radio, amidst heavy interference, a voice responded, decipherable.

“Hestia, this is Discordia. Requesting a search of the van. If there are survivors, rescue them; if not, retrieve what’s left and return.”

With that, the radio went silent.

“…Really concise. Who’s on duty in the communications room right now?”

“I’m not sure. Probably Peter, I think.”

In response to Meisa’s question, Victor replied.

“Is he still alive? He might have been caught by radar or gone crazy and run off while driving….”

“Even if he’s alive, he might be in a critical condition due to radiation sickness, right?”

“Hmm… that could be possible.”

While discussing the van, the problematic van gradually approached them. They realized that the van was shining due to the sunlight reflecting off a metal plate attached to it.

Meisa parked the truck behind the van.

“It’s probably best to release the safety on the rifle.”

“….”

Without a word, Victor took out the rifle he had placed in the space behind his seat and fired off a few rounds.

Meisa also retrieved the rifle she had placed under the driver’s seat, with the gun barrel folded.

“Oh, I forgot to disengage the safety on mine….”

“If you end up in a hundred percent accident because of that, please remember to keep it safe when not in use.”

“Tsk.”

Both holding rifles, they opened the truck door and stepped outside.

“Libre Militia! Is anyone injured?”

There was no response to Victor’s call.

At least not from a human.

“Eeeek!”

Meisa was shocked to hear a hoarse, pig-like squeal coming from not far away.

“Isn’t that Elenis? I thought she was dead around here! Weren’t those fancy military guys supposed to have shot her dead?”

“….Damn it, let’s check quickly and go back. If there are survivors, load them onto the truck.”

With the truck’s engine running, Victor kept watch while Meisa fixed her gaze and gun barrel in the direction where Elenis’s cries were coming from and approached the van.

Looking into the driver’s seat, Meisa found a young man unconscious.

“Victor! It’s a girl! She seems to be alive, right?”

As Meisa spoke, sitting in the driver’s seat was a girl who looked about five years younger than them. With slightly golden cream-colored hair, flawless skin, and a chest that rose and fell with each breath (‘She’s smaller than me but why does she have a bigger chest than me? Why?’ Meisa, who had a complex about her small chest, thought as she observed the large chest rising and falling with each breath) … wearing oversized shirt and pants seemed odd to both of them.

“Is she asleep… Hey! Hey!”

Victor shouted to wake up the sleeping young man, but there was no response.

Elenis approached them with eerie cries. The chilling wet footsteps mixed with the cries created a terrifying harmony.

“Meisa! I’ll deal with Elenis. You wake up that girl quickly or get her on the truck!”

“Got it. Damn, what a mess to deal with at the end of our shift….”

Meisa slapped the girl’s cheek while shouting.

“Hey! Wake up, Wang Paltong teacher! Stop pretending to be dead and get up! Do you think this is your own living room or something?”

“……”

“Ah, seriously!”

In the end, Meisa lifted the girl, put her arms around her shoulders, and dragged her away. Victor was shooting at Elenis who was almost hit under the neck by the bullets, but with a piston stuck in her eye, she didn’t fall down easily.

Elenis, infuriated, screamed and rushed towards Victor.

“Damn it!”

Just as Elenis was about to slash Victor’s throat with blood spurting out, Victor, in a final act of defiance, kicked Elenis with his thick boots.

Though it hurt like kicking a rock, it had an effect as Elenis lost balance, screaming and falling backward.

Without hesitation, Victor shot bullets into Elenis’ head.

“Ugh… ugh…”

As Meisa opened the passenger door to put the girl inside, a moan escaped from the girl’s lips.

“What? Are you awake now? Hey! Hey! Get up, damn it!”

The young man, barely regaining consciousness, saw for the first time a brown-skinned woman with curly hair standing before him, shaking her body with a fierce expression.

“…Mother?”

Hearing the young man mutter, Meisa looked at the girl with a puzzled expression.

“Are you going crazy because of the heat? Ugh….”

“I’m crazy…? Did I… what?”

At that moment, the young man remembered the heart. The pulsating heart sending blood through translucent veins, merging with the night sky. And the Elenises praying while feeding on the blood oozing from the veins…

And the nun. A nun with a peculiar name meaning “plague” in both pronunciation and origin.

“Ah! Aaah!”

The young man grabbed his head and screamed.

“This… I can’t take this!”

Meisa quickly put the girl in the truck and ran to support Victor.

Victor, successful in killing the initial Elenis, faced off against more Elenises rushing out of the ruined house upon hearing gunshots.

“The girl has come to her senses! But looking at her expression, she seems completely gone…”

“You fool! What will we do if they come here! Hurry, go start the truck!”

“…Damn it. Got it. Don’t waste too much time and come back soon! Since the girl is in the passenger seat, climb into the cargo area!”

Victor nodded, replaced the empty magazine with a full one in his front pocket, and loaded his gun.

Meisa quickly got into the driver’s seat, released the brake, and shifted to Drive.

“Shangrila… Monastery… Heart… Heart… Heart… Insect… Empress… Aaa… Aaaah….”

Ignoring the girl muttering as if insane, Meisa stepped on the pedal. Due to the sudden start and the lack of a seatbelt, the girl lost balance, swaying until her face hit the dashboard.

“Don’t pull it out… Don’t… It hurts… Please… Please…”

The girl continued to mumble incomprehensible words, not caring about her bleeding nose.

“She’s really lost it.”

Meisa drove the truck at a speed where Victor could climb into the cargo area without being too slow.

Victor fed 5.56 rounds to the closest approaching Elenis and successfully climbed into the cargo area at full speed. Meisa couldn’t see behind the truck, but hearing Victor climbing into the cargo area and his rare curse words, she felt relieved.

“Wh… where is this…?”

The young man finally came to his senses.

“Huh? You’re not babbling nonsense anymore… Ahem. Are you awake now? Just a while ago, things were really serious. I thought you had completely lost it due to the heat.”

Maya, noticing the girl’s sudden change in demeanor as if she had regained her senses, approached her with a polite tone that was a complete 180 from before (though her underlying irritation was palpable).

“What are you talking about…? More importantly, where on earth… is this place so different from the van I usually drive around in…”

Realizing that the girl’s voice didn’t match her cute appearance and was surprisingly masculine, Maya was taken aback.

“Huh-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha?”

Suddenly letting out a scream, she startled Maya, who joined in with her own shriek.

“What the hell? I thought my eardrums were going to burst!”

“The voice… the voice…”

“Why the voice? It’s just a cute voice! What’s the problem that makes you scream like that?”

The young man hurriedly felt his body. When he touched the lump of fat on his chest that hadn’t been there until his hand fell, he turned to Maya with a shocked expression.

“Do you have a mirror here?”

“Um, what’s the problem…”

“Do you have a mirror, damn it!”

Glaring at Maya, the young man shouted.

“Oh damn it. Since there’s no mirror, at least look in the side mirror over there… I saved you dying under the scorching sun, why are you acting so ungrateful…”

“What’s going on? Who keeps screaming?”

Amidst the chaos of chasing after the truck, Victor’s worried voice came from the driver’s seat, unsure of the situation.

“I don’t know, damn it, I don’t even know what’s going on…”

Maya replied weakly, as if resigned to whatever would happen.

The young man looked at his own face through the open passenger window and the side mirror.

“…?”

Instead of the face he had seen for 23 years, a stranger—a girl who shared some similarities with him—was looking back at him.

While her hair color and eye color remained the same as before, her hair was longer now, and the once cold and masculine face was nowhere to be found. Instead, a girl’s face, reminiscent of his mother, with jade-colored eyes, was gazing at him.

“A girl…?”

The young man, or rather the girl who used to be a young man, let out another cute scream.