A Survival Guide for a Counselor in the Apocalypse Chapter 100

Chapter 100

 

Lee Hoin quickly grabbed his dagger and staggered as he looked in that direction.

It was obvious who had come.

There was only one person with a habit of flicking a flashlight like that.

The owner.

When the approaching footsteps fully illuminated us, the owner looked startled and shouted,

“Kids! Get out right now! Right now!”

She wasn’t holding anything except the flashlight.

“I said, get out quickly! Digestion is about to start…!”

Digestion?

At that word, I looked around.

The mucus was getting thicker, and the strange smell was growing stronger.

Digestion?

Then this mucus…

Sizzle

With that sound, the mucus that fell onto a mutant’s head began to eat into it, ever so slightly.

Digestive fluid.

This… this is digestive fluid.

“Fuck!”

Grabbing Lee Hoin’s hand, I ran outside as fast as I could.

Ignoring the sizzling sound as the digestive fluid touched my skin, falling onto the back of my hand, my head, my clothes, I ran in the direction the owner was heading.

Only after we barely made it outside did the owner let out a breath and turn to us.

“Kids, what are you doing? No matter what…!”

I looked at the back of my hand, red and irritated, and exhaled.

This wasn’t an event.

That much was certain.

The owner in front of me was also human.

As far as I knew, not an agent either.

Then there were two possibilities.

That this space was a skill… or…

‘That it’s an item.’

I scratched at the rash on my cheek reflexively as I thought.

“Don’t scratch it! It’ll get worse, hey!”

The owner grabbed my hand and pulled it away.

That sphere in the center.

More than a skill, it was closer to an item.

If it were a skill… a skill like this…

‘The owner wouldn’t need to drive around with a food truck.’

She could just settle in central Seoul and serve whoever came.

It’s an item.

And one that requires sacrifices.

The countless bones and the “digestion” proved that.

‘The mutants must be the sacrifices.’

I exhaled deeply.

Then what role does the item serve?

“Ah, what is all this… huh? Go inside first, wash up, change clothes… Are you hurt anywhere?”

Lee Hoin seemed flustered by the owner’s genuinely worried attitude.

He was still holding the dagger, but couldn’t bring himself to stab her.

He just got dragged along.

As we were being led, I asked,

“…What is that?”

The owner intermittently turned the flashlight on and off as she guided the way, saying nothing for a while.

Unable to bear the silence, I asked again,

“What is that, ma’am? That thing– ”

“You know, kids,” the owner said, still holding onto Lee Hoin’s arm as she walked, “I think it’s a problem if something harms people, hmm?”

“….”

“As long as it doesn’t cause harm, what’s wrong with doing it? Don’t you think so, kid?”

As long as it doesn’t cause harm?

I frowned.

What exactly defines “not causing harm”?

“Everyone, everyone has their own circumstances, don’t they? So today… let’s just leave it at this.”

“Is it an item?”

At my words, the owner stopped in her tracks.

“Is that what’s important, kid?”

It was important.

At least to me.

“Yes. If we know what it is, then we can–”

“Have I ever done anything that harmed you? Answer me.”

“….”

That wasn’t true.

If asked whether she had harmed us… no, she hadn’t.

But…

this whole situation…

“Have I harmed you?”

I closed my mouth for a moment.

“I fed you, gave you a place to sleep, made sure you could rest warm, comfortable, and clean, do you know how much I cared? And still, you have to dig into this? Do you really need to dig this far to feel at ease?”

I couldn’t clearly see what expression was on her face in the darkness.

It was just… the place was too dark, and her words sounded like a mixture of reproach, disappointment, and sadness.

It took me a long time to find an answer.

In the middle of a mountain where no owls, cats, or deer made a sound, with my skin burning from the digestive fluid… we stood facing each other.

“…It’s dangerous.”

I didn’t know what exactly that item did.

It might simply create an area.

Or something else.

But the very act of offering “sacrifices” was a dangerous price.

Which meant that item… might be nothing less than the prelude to a disaster.

I understood that right now, it might look like an oasis.

It could.

But still…

“Ma’am, it’s really dangerous. If you keep doing this–”

“Kid, sometimes, even knowing something’s dangerous, you still do it. Don’t you? If you think it’s dangerous, then leave. I won’t stop you. I just protect the people who come within my boundary, that’s all.”

The owner remained swallowed by darkness.

“There’s no reason for you to interfere this much. Right? If you think this place is dangerous, just leave. Just go. And don’t cause trouble for others.”

 

— 

[Correct!]

[Some people find comfort even in disasters.]

[Even if it’s the beginning of a disaster, it hasn’t started yet, has it? And even if it does become one, it’s not your fault!]

[The one nurturing the disaster is that person, and the one who must take responsibility is also that person!]

— 

 

That was true.

If it’s dangerous, we could just leave.

The owner had never tried to stop us.

For some reason, I felt like her face held no expression at all.

‘…No matter what I say.’

She wouldn’t listen.

No matter what I said, she wouldn’t listen.

She had already made up her mind.

“…People could all die.”

Even so, I said it one more time.

Why had I stayed here, even feeling uneasy?

Because I liked the people.

The lively, warm atmosphere… it felt healing just sitting there.

But if this continued, they would all die.

Right now, we are at a crossroads.

Live in a false peace that would kill us when it breaks… or break it ourselves.

The owner stood still, then said,

“Kid, you’ve been outside, haven’t you? Do you remember what you saw out there?”

At that, I fell silent.

“No matter what, we all die in the end. So, isn’t wanting to die a little more sweetly something everyone dreams of?”

 

— 

[That is also correct.]

[If this sweet peace breaks, you die. But even if you break it yourself and leave, danger still awaits.]

[Perhaps they have chosen to die in this world.]

[Because this world is peaceful. Even if that peace is a lie.]

— 

 

The owner began walking ahead again.

As if she would listen to nothing more.

At some point, Lee Hoin lowered his dagger.

 

— 

[Do not act presumptuously.]

[Ever since you developed a sense of justice, you’ve become strangely human.]

[At first, you locked the convenience store door before even worrying about the protagonist returning.]

[You are becoming someone unfit for this world.]

—

 

We returned home and washed up.

After cleaning ourselves, we applied the ointment the owner gave us to the rash and wrapped it with bandages.

My cheek was hard to bandage, so I just put on a patch.

Then Lee Hoin and I sat side by side on the floor, bedding, facing each other.

“…What are we going to do?”

Lee Hoin asked.

What were we going to do?

Honestly, the answer was simple… just leave.

There was nothing we could do anymore.

In truth, the owner was right.

If she wanted to die here, we could just take what benefits we could and leave.

“Are we leaving without saving them?”

“…What we think is saving them might not actually be saving them.”

Wouldn’t it be nice if all forms of salvation were the same?

If inputs and outputs always matched?

But causality, relationships… all of those can be interpreted in different ways.

So, even expressions of affection were the same.

If the other person wants it, it’s love.

If not, it’s violence.

Love, jealousy, salvation… all of them.

“The owner said it herself.”

That dying here is fine.

That this is reality.

 

— 

[But she herself survives, doesn’t she? Hmm, perhaps when death approached, she chose to live?]

— 

 

…That was also true.

The owner survives in the end.

She becomes a traveling cook, driving around the apocalypse.

Then what about the others?

‘…There aren’t any clearly identified characters, so I don’t know.’

Whether they survived… or not.

At that, the narrator filled the screen, laughing.

Mocking.

Sneering.

 

— 

[You already know, don’t you?]

— 

 

The commentator spoke.

 

— 

[Oh, oh. Let’s be honest. Isn’t honesty the narrator’s only strength? Be honest… truly honest.]

[Do you really think they could ‘survive’?]

[Puhahaha!]

—