Chapter 7: The eyes are full of desolation and coolness
I snapped out of it first and shouted.
“Get out of there!! Hurry!!”
“…Huh?”
The girl, just emerging from the alley, froze, clearly startled by my sudden command. Clutching her white cane, matching her hair, she seemed to struggle to make sense of my words.
I didn’t expect a young girl to instantly grasp the situation and flee at a stranger’s shout, but I had no other choice.
Because—
“—Damn it!”
[“—”]
Right now, that thing was likely targeting us.
Variants defy all biological criteria—growth, reproduction, response, metabolism, homeostasis, organization. Their mere existence tramples the sanctity of life. Most lack distinguishable body parts like heads or torsos, and it’s unclear if they even fit within the category of “living.”
Their origins are a mystery, utterly unknown.
The unease they inspire fuels rumors that they might be extraterrestrial.
Their enigmatic nature makes research inconsistent, but scholars agree on one thing: they possess significant intelligence.
This failed operation and humanity’s inability to defeat them, despite unified efforts, prove it. Not exactly welcome news for me.
In other words, they can understand and exploit situations.
They knew the new weakness we’d just gained.
“…Um, is there—”
“—No questions, just run, you little brat!!!”
The girl still hadn’t moved.
Eyes closed, cane clutched, head turned toward nothing, she wore a dazed expression, unaware she was a target.
I’d heard of response teams encountering civilians during subjugations, but I never imagined it’d happen to me.
With Special Police guiding evacuations and the blaring broadcast, how did a blind kid end up in these ruins?
The coincidence was too cruel to be mere chance.
Given the Invisible’s habit of targeting isolated prey, an unarmed, lone child was nothing but easy game.
The only reason it hadn’t struck yet was likely to see if her presence would create a crack in our defenses.
If we stayed still, it’d take her life, deeming her worthless.
But if any of us moved toward her, it’d exploit our weakened guard to target Sehee, our most vulnerable.
A perfect trap.
“…”
Do I risk everyone’s lives to save her?
Or abandon her to protect Sehee?
A vile choice, like a scale balanced on my heart, consumed me.
Drip, drip. Sweat fell from my hand, unable to choose.
The growing puddle marked time’s relentless march, ignoring my wish for it to stop.
After endless deliberation, I made my choice.
As I tensed my legs, ready to spring forward—
“Ah.”
As if realizing something, the girl threw herself to the side.
A deep gash, like a scythe’s cut, appeared where she’d stood.
A sudden wound on empty ground.
It didn’t take long to understand what it meant.
Crack—!
“Taehoon! Protect Sehee!!”
“Y-Yes?!”
Sword in hand, I charged toward where the girl had been.
Already poised to move, my blade sliced through the air with a sharp whistle.
But—
[“—■■■■■!!”]
“Damn it, too shallow!”
Unlike my intent, my sword only grazed the Invisible’s surface.
Still, it was progress compared to our earlier disadvantage. The slight damage even forced it to briefly reveal itself—a shimmering “something” between machine and life.
I tried to press the attack, but it retreated swiftly, blending back into the surroundings, making me miss my chance.
Clicking my tongue, I grabbed the fallen girl with one arm, like a kidnapper, and returned to Taehoon’s side.
Her weight was lighter than expected.
Tap—
“Team Leader?! Who’s that kid—”
“Explanations later! Focus on guarding!!”
Taehoon, too busy watching our surroundings, tried to question me, but I brushed him off. Time was critical.
I set down the confused girl, knelt on one knee, fixed her disheveled clothes, and spoke.
“Sorry, kid. Are you hurt? I’d love to explain, but things are too chaotic right now.”
“Uh… yes, I understand, unnie.”
“…Good kid. Thank you.”
Thankfully, despite her anxious expression, she was calm.
Perhaps because of her blindness, she was far more composed than most kids her age would be. I spoke slowly, about to say the worst possible thing.
“I’ll be blunt, kid. Can you… sense that thing? The one that just attacked you.”
“That thing… you mean the, uh… fluffy thing that tried to do something to me?”
“…I don’t know what ‘fluffy’ means, but yeah, that’s it.”
As expected, she could sense its position.
Whether she heard its movements or felt its unique aura, I didn’t care. I’d been ready to have Taehoon carry Sehee and retreat while I tore the place apart. Using a child in battle made me want to gag, but I swallowed my revulsion and continued.
This was for everyone’s survival.
A sin I’d committed by my own will.
I’d bear the responsibility.
Hiding my heavy heart, I spoke to the girl clutching my coat.
“Can you tell unnie which direction it’s in?”
“…Just the direction?”
“—That’s enough.”
Her reliable words made me sheathe my sword.
Once decided, there was no turning back.
I stepped back with my left foot, bent my right knee at a right angle, and twisted my waist toward the scabbard as far as it would go.
Crack. My strained muscles screamed.
I was ready to deliver my strongest blow.
Distance didn’t matter.
If I knew the direction, I’d cut through everything in its path.
“So.”
Where’s the enemy?
The cold metal under my fingers.
I gripped the sword hilt tightly.
Lee Hana
Co-protagonist. “Kidnapped” the protagonist.
Feels guilty for involving a child in battle.
Thinks she deserves a medal or something when she gets back.
Shim Cheong
Protagonist. Was “kidnapped.”
Somehow senses the variants, describing them as “pure white fog.”
When asked if she knew the direction, she answered yes without thinking.
“I knew I shouldn’t have, but I didn’t know it then.”
Shin Sehee
Collapsed.
Currently having tea with her grandparents, who died due to variants.
“Huh? I shouldn’t be here? What’re you saying?”