A Survival Guide for a Counselor in the Apocalypse Chapter 76

Chapter 76

 

Sa Jaeheon once said something like this:

“Honestly, a world swarming with choices is better. If there are choices, the number of branching points decreases. You just have to pick one among several options. That means the number of cases you have to experiment with also decreases. In other words, fewer people have to die.

But in a situation without choices, there are far too many branching points. For example, suppose you try to prevent Kim Dowoon’s death by replaying events up to just before it and making a different choice. But if Kim Dowoon still dies despite that… then it means the branching point where he dies lies somewhere else.

To properly figure out where that is, you’d have to rerun the simulation dozens, no, hundreds, of times. Since there are no choices presented, you don’t even know what the branching point is.

You can’t just force Kim Dowoon along like dragging a dog on a leash to solve it easily. Humans, damn it, have something called free will… and on top of that, a mental fortitude so weak it makes you swear.”

‘All the failures so far prove it.’

If you suppress humans, they die. They break. They feel ‘injustice.’ No matter how good the result may be, humans are living beings in the end.

That was why Sa Jaeheon hated living things. He hated how troublesome it was that they thought and acted on their own. And so, it was only natural that he came to loathe worlds without choices. In such places, everything was alive.

Once, he had wished strongly that everything in the world would possess life, that it would think and act on its own.

But now, those things were nothing but nuisances. They were simply uncontrollable variables.

 

— 

[Is that really the only reason?]

— 

 

The narrator whispered.

Was that really all? Sa Jaeheon did not answer. He simply continued forward in silence.

 

— 

[A world without choices actually urges you to choose. And it merely shows itself in brilliance.

— 

 

It shows, in desperate struggle, how it writhes to be chosen by you.]

 

— 

[That struggle is so noble that, in the end, it moves people. It makes people act of their own will… it does.]

[By not acting, it provokes even stronger action.]

— 

 

“Admit it,” the narrator murmured.

 

— 

[Our protagonist is simply afraid. Afraid that if he steps into that vibrant space, if he enters a place beyond his control, he might once again fall into ‘sentiment’…]

[Ahh, what a remarkably sorrowful tale this is… the end of one who has abandoned being human.]

— 

 

A world without choices displayed desperation. As if saying, “The choice is yours… we will simply show you our way.”

And it made people act. There was something very kind and righteous about a world without choices. That was precisely what made it the most cruel.

‘And that is its method of survival.’

Kindness and gentleness seep into the heart before you even realize it.

Those who were moved by such a world would eventually realize it: the world was dying, and its people were seated at the very front carriage of a train rushing toward death.

And yet, they did not beg. They simply continued forward. They did not force anyone to choose. But all of this only tightened the noose around one’s neck, urging a choice.

It was a truly gentle leash. In the end, those who were touched by that kindness would come to want to save them, to help them. Since they would die whether they returned to their original world or stayed here, they would think it better to die in a kinder world, embracing that kindness.

That was what made such worlds the most terrifying. Falling in love helplessly within just a few days. Being made to think, of one’s own will, that you wanted to stay here.

‘Devoured, yet not devoured.’

And so…

Sa Jaeheon was always extra cautious in events like these.

So that he would not be consumed by kindness.

 

***

 

“Fe-feel… fe…”

Shin Yerim tried to speak quickly, but her words kept tangling. She let out a breath. Slowly, please… just this once, she wanted to say it properly.

Just as Nam Muyeong had told her, she took a deep breath. Johanna willingly waited for her to do so. She was a kind person.

“I… felt… something.”

“You felt something? What is it?”

Whenever incidents like this occurred, Shin Yerim would sometimes go up to the top of the wall. Of course, as a medic, she stayed in the rear.

At first glance, it looked like the monsters attacked without any pattern, but in truth, there was one. There was always a ‘center’ monster. Just like how animal packs have an alpha, these monsters had one too.

The last time she went up the wall, she had seen, far in the distance, a monstrous bird much larger than the others, flapping its wings within the snowstorm. It looked like a commander directing everything. It was so large that only glimpses of it could be seen through the storm.

When a few of the monster birds were struck down and the blizzard weakened, that creature seemed to realize the tide had turned and retreated. From that point on, the wave of attacks lessened, and the battle ended after they defeated a few more.

Of course, if one spoke of an “alpha,” one might think it only commanded its own species. That each monster type would have its own alpha.

‘But after watching carefully, there were no separate alphas for the other monsters…’

Which meant…

The “alpha” ruled regardless of species.

‘In other words…’

If they took down just that one alpha, they could seize victory much more easily.

Just one. If they took that one down.

“If we… take down… the leader… then… it’ll be… ea-easier…”

The moment she said “easier,” she realized her mistake. This was a battlefield. People were dying. And she said, “Easy”? It would sound as if all those deaths happened just because they hadn’t realized something so “easy.”

Shin Yerim bit her lip.

“Th-th-that is… I mean… th-therefore…”

Her head lowered as if she were about to cry. Why was she always like this? Who would trust someone who couldn’t even speak properly?

Johanna placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Slowly. Try breathing as you did earlier.”

“Y-yes?”

“Like before. Take a deep breath.”

With a trembling expression, Shin Yerim exhaled shakily and took a deep breath. Slowly, she began to calm down. Everything that had been surging up was pressed back down.

“We are aware that there is a leader. The problem is that it is too far away. The leaders command the battlefield from a distance. We are already struggling just to hold the line, so we cannot break through and deploy a separate unit. We simply do not have enough manpower.”

“Ah–!”

Shin Yerim flinched as if she had been scolded. Of course, they already knew. And yet, she had spoken out of turn.

“I-I’m s-sorry…”

Unlike before, Johanna did not wait.

“What should we do, then?”

Instead, she asked a question.

What should they do?

Was she… asking her? She had never even properly held a weapon…

Still, she had tried to be helpful in her own way, learning small things at the workshop. She had often thought it would be good to have something like a “grenade.”

Of course, magical “explosives” already existed. But they couldn’t be used freely like water. And she didn’t have the knowledge to create something like a grenade herself.

So the key was how to use what already existed. Something already available… something capable of large-scale attacks, without using “explosives”…

“Th-those things… they climb… the wall… so… if we set up… something made of wood… below… and when the monsters come… we set it on fire…”

Molotov cocktails.

Shin Yerim spoke haltingly. Johanna thought for a moment before replying.

“There are several problems. First, it is snowing. Even without the creature that creates the blizzard, snow will wet the wood. Wet wood does not catch fire easily. And the monsters will continue climbing the wall even while burning. If burning creatures climb up and wreak havoc, our casualties will be even greater.”

“……”

“Additionally, the fire could spread to our weapons. The shafts of spears are made of wood. Of course, they might not catch fire due to the moisture… but if the creatures get close, the heat alone could cause serious harm to the soldiers. They wear metal armor, after all.”

She was right. Shin Yerim bit her lip again, deep in thought. What could she do? What could she do?

Her mind raced. Just like when she combined herbs, she began recalling everything she had seen and heard while living here.

She had never heard about gunpowder. Perhaps it existed under a different name, or perhaps no one had the knowledge to explain it.

“F-first… on the wall…”