Chapter 91 - The Trailblazer V

8

After that, the operation to subjugate School Ghost Stories proceeded smoothly.

Cheon Yohwa and I continued patrolling the school. Whenever we found survivors, we escorted them straight to a “safe zone.”

The survivors shed tears of gratitude.

“The ghosts... aren't showing up?”

“We can use the bathrooms whenever we want!”

“Thank you, big brother security guard!”

“Aah, but the bodies... Well, whatever. We've seen plenty of bodies anyway, so it doesn't matter.”

“Fuck, these cup noodles are goddamn delicious...”

Most of the first through third floors had already been declared safe zones, so there was a fair amount of room for the students to live in.

The crucial issues were food and sanitation—enough to feed hundreds of survivors and keep them alive... Sanitation was covered, since I'd packed plenty of medical supplies in my suitcase.

That left food as the problem.

The suitcase I'd acquired in run 115 boasted a capacity almost worthy of a pocket dimension, but that pocket dimension was only the size of an ordinary study. Naturally, it wasn't anything as romantically spacious as those “studies somehow larger than the mansion itself” that occasionally appeared in fantasy novels.

Fortunately, the Korean Peninsula had experience escaping hunger after once being among the poorest places in the world (though, of course, that only applied to fifty percent of its territory), and thus knew a thing or two about quickly resolving food shortages.

“Let's use the cafeteria.”

“Eek.”

Cheon Yohwa recoiled. The girl had a natural talent for expressing the words “dislike” and “contempt” using nothing but her facial muscles.

“You mean the first-floor cafeteria? That place is a bit... I've only been there once myself, but there are seriously so many ghosts.”

“Of course there are. Didn't you know, young lady? Ghosts always flock to bathrooms, bedrooms, and kitchens more than anywhere else.”

“No, I didn't...”

The resident anomaly that had settled into Baekhwa Girls’ High School's cafeteria was the “Human Flesh Restaurant.”

(1) School meals are served in the cafeteria every day.

(2) But rumor has it that the meat used in the side dishes actually contains human flesh.

(3) Anyone who eats human flesh rapidly becomes addicted, craving it more and more. Eventually, they turn into cannibals who can eat nothing else, and go insane if they go even a few days without it.

Anomalies involving human flesh could often be found in voids.

They were especially likely to appear in voids where people had been massacred, and School Ghost Stories, where hundreds had already been slaughtered, was no exception.

A void was an extreme environment more vicious than Antarctica. When faced with the unavoidable choice of “Will you starve to death tomorrow, or go mad and die in one or three months?” even the most seasoned awakened had no choice but to swallow their tears and eat their own kind.

But... things were a little different in School Ghost Stories.

“Young lady. The school meals here weren't particularly good, were they?”

“Huh? Oh, no. Dinner was all right, but breakfast and lunch tasted awful. It made dorm life pretty rough.”

“Then what are you worried about? The side dishes are separated into compartments on stainless-steel trays anyway, aren't they? And they're all served from separate containers.”

“Huh?”

“You'll be safe if you only eat side dishes that are obviously nothing but greens. From now on, breakfast and lunch will be the students' main source of food.”

If eating human flesh drove you insane, why not eat everything except the human flesh?

The Human Flesh Restaurants that appeared in most voids were hard to get around with a little trick like this.

The Korean Peninsula had always been a harsh place for vegans. The void restaurants appearing there actively catered to animal-protein lovers: places specializing in spicy stir-fried pork, soup with rice, pork cutlets, and so on.

Unless they offered something entirely meatless, like aglio e olio, or something with easily removable meat, like a hamburger patty, painstakingly separating the meat from most void restaurants' dishes was quite difficult.

But schools and the military were different.

Unlike everywhere else, these two groups respected life so deeply that they were downright passionate about veganism.

From my perspective, the Human Flesh Restaurant—or rather, Human Flesh Cafeteria—that had appeared at Hundred Flowers Girls’ High School was nothing more or less than an excellent source of nutrients.

“I never knew you could use ghosts this way...”

Cheon Yohwa looked appalled and bewildered as she received her meal from the cafeteria-worker ghosts, their bodies wavering like shadows.

“Once you let go of your prejudices, you'll find quite a few anomalies that are surprisingly useful.”

“Hmm, is that really true...? Aah. These stir-fried anchovies are delicious. That just makes me more nervous! Ugh, Mister Security Guard. You're sure this is safe, right?”

I glanced at her profile. The student council president was staring down at her meal tray with mixed feelings.

Suddenly, I remembered our first meeting—the conversation we'd had at the school gate when I went to recruit her in run five.

[“Your ability is incredibly powerful, Cheon Yohwa. I don't know whether you turned already-dead bodies into zombies, or whether you turned living people into zombies as well.”]

[“... Bodies?”]

Back then, Cheon Yohwa couldn't properly recognize the word “bodies.” “Human flesh” was probably no different.

Brainwashing for survival.

It was a simple matter if you considered what seventeen stranded survivors might have eaten to stay alive for four whole years.

Indeed, all the Hundred Flowers Girls’ High School guild members were addicted to human flesh. Unless they ate it at least once every four days, they went insane.

“... My idea isn't anything special. Given a little more time, you students would've reached the same conclusion.”

“Huh? We would?”

“Of course. And this solution won't last forever either. Eat your fill while you can. I'll set aside as much food with a long shelf life as possible.”

“...?”

My prediction proved correct.

A week later, the meals served in the school cafeteria began to change little by little.

“Huh? Mister. Doesn't it... feel like there are more meat dishes now?”

“Mm.”

Anomalies were alive and moving.

In fact, when it came to the pace of life, they were far more impatient and urgent than humans.

Humans evolved slowly over thousands upon tens of thousands of years, filtering mutations through the mesh of time. An anomaly's very species, on the other hand, could transform in a single day.

As a result...

“Aah. M-meat dishes make up two-thirds of it...”

The side dishes on Cheon Yohwa's stainless-steel tray were positively lavish.

Fried chicken drumsticks, beef and radish soup, meat patties, boiled pork. The only meatless items were vegetable curry, white rice, and salad.

In the old days, you could have photographed it and posted it online under [Is This Seriously What High School Lunches Look Like These Days?], earning admiration and envy from all the older generations.

“Throw everything away except the vegetable curry, rice, and salad.”

“Okaaay... Waaah, what a waste!”

Cheon Yohwa looked ready to cry as she dumped the side dishes into the food-waste bin.

“One of the girls couldn't resist yesterday and took a bite of the cheese pork cutlet. I really chewed her out, but I still understood how she felt...”

“One bite should be fine. But if she decides nothing seems wrong and keeps eating, taking a second bite, then a third, she's finished. At least we're lucky they're still serving curry, aren't we? Soon, we won't be able to eat anything but plain rice.”

“Ughhh. That's terrible nutrition. If only we had some protein supplements...”

It was plain as day that our food situation would deteriorate rapidly.

But we hadn't been sitting idle in the meantime.

We increased the number of patrol teams and searched the entire void, securing more than a hundred and fifty survivors.

We'd also subjugated almost all of School Ghost Stories. The school building, which had bizarrely expanded to thirteen floors, returned to its original four-story form. The field and dormitories were restored as well.

... Though we also found some five hundred bodies in the process.

Compared with the outcome of previous runs, in which only seventeen would survive, the route in run 117 was markedly better.

And because I'd pinpointed the victims' locations this time, things improved even further in subsequent runs.

But for now, let's focus on run 117.

“Mister, is the funeral all finished?”

The school field.

Wooden desks and chairs were piled up, burning like a campfire. They weren't particularly good firewood, and the black smoke was acrid. But I'd kept the flames under control, so it rose straight into the sky without spreading to the surroundings.

At least it made a decent rope to guide souls heavenward.

“Yes, it just ended.”

“Hehe. Our girls cried a lot again, didn't they?”

“Crying is a good thing. Just as laughter knows no borders, tears have no nationality.”

Cheon Yohwa stood beside me with her hands clasped behind her back. The sky above Hundred Flowers Girls’ High School, tainted by the void, was always as red as blood.

The red spider lilies surrounding the school buildings were just as crimson. Only the birches escaped that redness, forming white prison bars that held the school captive.

No matter how many anomalies we subjugated, those spider lilies and birches never disappeared.

“You're right. I think giving them funerals like this has helped the girls feel a little more at peace. You collected all their ashes, too, didn't you? Lately, I've seen them carrying their best friends' ashes in little pouches around their necks.”

“To hand over if they meet the families?”

“Yep. Well, even if they can't deliver them, they still serve as protective charms.”

“At your age, it can't be easy to look after the feelings of the dead as well. I'm proud of you.”

“Ahaha... Oh, here, have this!”

Cheon Yohwa handed me a rice ball. White rice with stir-fried anchovies inside, wrapped in seaweed.

By now, there were truly very few meatless side dishes left. Some students had formed a cooking team and begun turning the school meals into entirely new dishes.

“Thank you.”

Of course, even this was an incredible feast to me.

The stir-fried anchovies would probably disappear tomorrow. And the day after that, even the rice would turn into pasta Bolognese.

I'd been setting aside foods with relatively long shelf lives, but even those had clear limits. Four days at most, perhaps.

The hourglass of School Ghost Stories was rapidly building a pyramid in the desert.

Cheon Yohwa looked up at the blood-red sky.

“Mister. When will we ever get out of this hell...?”

“Tomorrow.”

Her eyes turned toward me.

“Tell the other students to wait near the school gate, ready to escape at any moment. Yohwa, you're coming with me.”

“...”

“By tomorrow, we'll cut out this void's heart.”

9

We'd searched everything aboveground at the school: the dormitories, the main building, the old school building, the field, and the auditorium.

Naturally, we'd slaughtered the anomalies too.

The total number of anomalies subjugated by me and some of the students so far was ninety-nine. Exactly ninety-nine, of all numbers.

It was a near-miraculous accomplishment, but School Ghost Stories' blood-red sky remained intact. That meant another anomaly we needed to subjugate was hiding somewhere.

And I thought I knew the address of that secret hideout.

“It's underground.”

Cheon Yohwa blinked.

“Underground? Our school doesn't have a basement, um... not really. There are a few tiny half-basements used for storage, though.”

Indeed, we hadn't found any stairs leading underground from the first floor in any building.

Yes. Stairs.

As you should all know by now, stairs were not the foremost means of transportation in a void.

“Yohwa. We're going down in an elevator.”

“An elevator? Where would we find an elevator...? Eek. Don't tell me...”

Exactly.

Cheon Yohwa and I gathered supplies and headed to the old school building. Despite its name, it wasn't especially run-down, since it had been perfectly serviceable as a building for school clubs.

The old building had a food-service elevator.

Dumbwaiter, lift—it went by many names, but all the students understood if you simply called it the food-service elevator.

It wasn't designed for people to climb inside, but it was still a perfectly respectable “elevator,” wasn't it?

“All right, you go in first.”

“Nooo. I did sometimes think about climbing in whenever I passed it, but I never thought I'd actually... Aaaah! Mister, no! It's cramped! It's so cramped in here! Really cramp... Huh? Th-there's surprisingly enough room...?”

“Physical space doesn't mean much in a void.”

CLATTER, CRASH!

After squeezing and wriggling my way into the elevator, I switched on my flashlight. And what should I see but elevator buttons?

[B001] [B005] [B009] [B013]

[B002] [B006] [B010] [B014]

[B003] [B007] [B011] [B015]

[B004] [B008] [B012] [B016]

She flinched.

One wall of the elevator was covered in buttons.

As my flashlight illuminated it, Cheon Yohwa shifted behind me.

“S-sixteen basement floors? There are sixteen whole underground floors we haven't explored yet? Oh my God! That's impossible. Mister. This isn't something we can finish in a day or two, is it...?”

“Ah. Don't worry. At times like this, you need to look at the shape, not the numbers.”

“Sorry?”

“Look at the buttons. Four rows and four columns, right? It's nothing more than a way to represent the number four.”

“Oh...”

“Try pressing one. It doesn't matter which.”

“Uh, hmm. Okay. I'll try.”

Cheon Yohwa reached out and firmly pressed the button for the twelfth basement floor.

CLUNK!

The elevator lurched. She let out a little “Eek!” and grabbed my shoulder.

CLUNK, RATTLE...

It happened then. The elevator buttons blinked, lighting up red.

[Death444] [Death444] [Death444] [Death444]

[Death444] [Death444] [Death444] [Death444]

[Death444] [Death444] [Death444] [Death444]

[Death444] [Death444] [Death444] [Death444]

The red light spilling from the buttons dyed the entire elevator interior crimson.

“...”

Cheon Yohwa caught her breath.

Though it should have been no different from ordinary LED lighting, the blood-red glow was sticky, like a viscous liquid. The red spilled down from the buttons and clung to both our bodies.

CLATTER!

The elevator shook violently, like a decrepit boat moored at a dock.

Then the door slowly lowered, revealing not the false fourth floor aboveground but the fourth basement floor—the true “underworld” of School Ghost Stories.

“Come out slowly. And whenever I take one step, you must follow with exactly one step. Never take more, and never take fewer.”

“Ah, yes. This is...”

Cheon Yohwa cautiously emerged from the elevator and looked around.

There was no need to look for long.

“A hospital...?”

Because the same scenery repeated endlessly.

Stark-white hospital corridors and ceilings. There wasn't a single patient or doctor, and eerily clean hospital beds lined the corridor. Transparent IV tubes hung over each bed like suspension bridges. The corridor was infinite.

I'd seen this exact same scenery in run eighty-nine, though only for a fleeting instant as it passed by.

'Gapless.'

Yes.

Run eighty-nine was the run in which I'd witnessed Gapless.

A spectacle of prisons, schools, hospitals, swimming pools, movie theaters, and scenes on screens, endlessly running riot and fornicating in a chaotic jumble. No, not a spectacle—a madscape.

'... So this really was its home base.'

The true body of Gapless, the God of Alienation.

It had made its nest in the hell of ceaseless suffering on the fourth basement floor of Baekhwa Girls’ High School.