NOVEL NEXT WORLD Chapter 13 - Humans Are– (5)
Chapter 13 – Humans Are– (5)
In the anteroom of the conference hall, seven men and women were waiting for him. Among them, a short woman in a white coat approached Judah.
“You did well, entertaining the masters. Swordmaster.”
Judah smiled as he looked at her.
“This dance, I’m doing it because I want to. It doesn’t matter. The hegemony is still theirs.”
“How long can they hold onto it?”
Judah looked up toward the ceiling.
“The moon must have risen by now… Is it the night of the new moon?”
The woman in the white coat raised her hand high and spoke.
“They, those with black horns and blue blood, are passing through the streets. You, don’t even look at them through the knot hole of a window. It’s not just your eyes they’ll take. Beware the night of the new moon. Beware the night of the new moon.”
What she recited was a song from Revenheim.
The song held the terror from the time when the Evils of Eclipse first revealed themselves to the world.
However, by the time only one fortress remained in Revenheim, the song had long since fallen out of fashion.
The demons who completed the ritual to block out the sunlight slaughtered people in broad daylight as they freely roamed the streets.
Judah spoke.
“We’re the only ones who can stop the ritual. Eight returnees gathered in just one day. If it’s not the will of the gods, then the demons must have harmed themselves.”
At his words, the other seven also smiled.
Judah moved with them to carry out the next plan.
The keys.
For the ultimate move that could isolate the impending apocalypse from this world.
—
Bastille, the first time he was disappointed in humans was when he still went by the name Seo Hochan.
After losing his family in an accident, he was left in the care of relatives, where he learned just how cruel humans could be to the weak.
And he saw, over and over again, in Revenheim, what kind of violence, contempt, bullying, and exploitation were carried out systematically when that kind of brutality expanded to a societal or national scale.
It had only been within the past hundred years or so that humans had gained the universal rights they now enjoyed.
If history and tradition were the foundations of society, then most humans deserved to be called highly intelligent livestock. Throughout all of human history and tradition, that was how they had been treated. As slaves.
Bastille touched the collar around his neck and twisted his lips into a smile.
Ah, now he was being treated correctly.
“Humans… how typical.”
He stood up with a laugh.
It felt like several days had passed. The shock of the last battle with the demons had not been small, and though the bullets were rubber, he had been shot countless times across his entire body.
The silver lining was that, over the past few days, no one had touched him. Thanks to being able to focus on his recovery, the pain had almost entirely subsided.
As he stood, a dry, mechanical voice echoed throughout the pitch-black room where he was confined.
[This is the isolation ward of the CSA. Subject 207134—I has been confirmed to be active. The orientation for your stay will now begin. Subject 207134—I possesses cognitive abilities sufficient to understand language. Please pay attention and familiarize yourself with the rules.]
Everything in the room where Bastille was staying was black. He could barely discern anything in the faint lighting.
There was a built-in bed attached to the wall in a small room, barely wide enough to stretch out his arms. Opposite it stood a toilet.
Other than that, there was a small desk and a chair. However, there were no tools like writing instruments or paper that could accompany the desk.
The speaker continued to chatter on about life in the facility.
Things like when meals would be served, and that during meal times, he had to stand by the opposite wall.
[One last warning. The CS Choker around your neck contains an explosive unit designed to destroy your carotid artery. No matter what kind of abilities you possess, you cannot use them within this facility. Any rebellious behavior or aggressive tendencies toward the wardens will result in punishment, and in the worst case, the choker’s explosive may be detonated. Keep this in mind and conduct yourself wisely in the facility.]
Bastille surveyed his surroundings. Just as the guide had said, he could not sense any trace of mana in the area.
“Is it some kind of barrier?”
Bastille approached the transparent wall in front of him, which felt like plastic. He placed his palm against it.
He exerted a bit of pressure but quickly let go of the tension in his hand.
Because he had locked eyes with the figure on the other side of the transparent wall.
In the cell across from him, there was a hulking man, standing about two meters tall. He looked entirely human. A CS Choker was fastened around his neck, and aside from that, his situation was no different from Bastille’s.
As soon as the large man saw Bastille, he began shouting.
“Give me the moon! Give me the moon!”
He pounded his fists violently against the transparent wall. The loud banging echoed through the hallway.
“The moon… Don’t tell me not to look at the moon. Just end my life instead.”
Watching him, Bastille recalled an old legend.
A tale of humans who transformed into wolves under the full moon.
“A werewolf?”
The man’s eyes changed. He fixed his blood-red gaze, filled with a predator’s ferocity, on Bastille, baring sharp fangs.
“Don’t call me a werewolf! We are wolves. Wolves that can become human!”
It was the look of a madman. His blood-red eyes, retaining the instincts of a predator, were unbearably cruel.
“You can’t even imagine what humans have done to us! They treated the proud shamans of the wolves as lunatics. They forced molten lead down our throats, made us roll in mercury. They paired us with humans to breed offspring and turned us into circus spectacles for generations. You don’t deserve to be called humans. You’re devils!”
Bastille watched him silently with calm eyes.
The struggle for survival was always brutal. To win, one had to be ruthless.
But humans had the worst habit of justifying that cruelty. They created theories to reinforce that justification, and in the end, wrapped it all in the guise of divine providence.
How many of those who had disappeared beneath it had the chance to defend themselves? The accumulation of humanity’s vile excuses was what they proudly called history.
“How long do they plan to keep me in this miserable prison? Give me the moon! Give me the moon!”
His desperate cry soon transformed into a howl. Parts of his face began to twist, and tufts of hair sprouted sporadically.
“Awwooooooo!”
His howl echoed through the corridor. At that moment, red warning lights flashed over him.
[Subject 2034525—I. Please adhere to the facility’s operational rules. It is nighttime. All subjects must remain silent to ensure a pleasant sleep environment for other subjects.]
“Awwooooooo!”
[Subject 2034525—I, this is your second warning. Please remain silent.]
“Awwooo, awwooooo!”
He screamed his frustration toward the sky.
And that rebellion soon invited retaliation.
—
Four men dressed in black riot gear walked into the hallway shortly after the third warning was broadcast.
They appeared to be the wardens of the facility.
They carried electric batons.
One of them, walking with a threatening expression, kicked at a nearby cell containing a subject standing by the window.
Bang!
“Get down, you filthy beasts!”
The creature confined in that cell was a monstrous being, about one meter tall and resembling an octopus. Terrified, it quickly slithered into the depths of the cell.
The wardens approached the werewolf and spat out words full of irritation.
“This bastard still hasn’t come to his senses. Is his intelligence on the level of a dog?”
“Hahaha, he really is like a pig-dog.”
“Hey, boss, can I handle this one today? I broke up with Miyeong the other day, and I’m in a bad mood.”
“Go ahead, just don’t kill him. It’ll cause problems later. Lately, we’ve been getting memos from the higher-ups, telling us to be careful with the subjects.”
“That guy won’t die. You know how tough werewolves are. Unless you beat him with a silver club.”
“True. Alright, opening the door. You two, stay on backup.”
“Got it.”
The warden, who seemed to be the senior, took a step back and operated a remote control, causing part of the transparent wall to slide away like a window, disappearing into the wall.
The werewolf hesitated, baring his teeth as he backed away from the wall, fear clearly etched on his face.
“Already scared?”
The warden sneered and jabbed at the werewolf with his club.
Crackle!
Sparks flew, and the werewolf let out a scream of pain.
“Don’t pretend it hurts, you bastard. If you were scared of this, you should’ve stayed quiet from the start.”
The warden who had volunteered to take care of the werewolf stepped forward and immediately began swinging his club. The sound of thuds echoed throughout the corridor.
The werewolf curled up, protecting his face with both arms.
“Oh, look at this bastard. Are you going to fight back? Fine, come at me!”
The warden’s face twisted into a sadistic grin. It seemed he had already forgotten the earlier order to be careful not to kill him. He swung the club with all his might.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
The werewolf’s body was soon drenched in blood. The other wardens, who had partially surrounded the werewolf from behind, turned their heads and chatted amongst themselves, paying little attention.
The werewolf screamed.
“You cruel bastards! What did I ever do wrong?!”
The warden laughed and answered.
“Being born a werewolf?”
At those words, the werewolf roared and lunged forward.
He grabbed the warden who was hitting him by the shoulder and sank his teeth into his neck.
“Arghhh!”
The warden stumbled back, clutching his neck as blood spurted from his hand like a fountain.
While the other wardens stood dumbfounded for a moment, the werewolf charged at a second warden.
Crackle!
Another warden pressed a stun gun against the werewolf’s back, but despite the excruciating pain, the werewolf didn’t back down.
There was a determined look in his eyes.
He grabbed the second warden and sank his fangs into his neck.
But since he still had a human face, his fangs weren’t long enough to deal a deep wound.
The warden staggered back, bleeding from his neck. He swung his club wildly in retaliation.
“You crazy dog! Die!”
The werewolf’s head burst open, blood gushing out.
“Die! Die!”
With the second and third blows of the club, a cracking sound came from the werewolf’s body, and his shoulder drooped lifelessly.
But even with his battered body, the werewolf lunged at the warden again. More electric shocks and club strikes rained down on him. The entire corridor became soaked in blood, yet the werewolf didn’t stop.
The senior warden grabbed his radio.
“Control room, respond. This is getting out of hand. One warden is unconscious with serious injuries, and another is badly hurt. Requesting permission to dispose of the subject.”
[We’re monitoring the situation here. Permission granted. The subject isn’t valuable enough to be worth the damage.]
“Thank you.”
The warden ended the transmission, then manipulated the device in his hand and pressed a button.
Thunk.
A short, dull explosion echoed through the corridor.
The werewolf’s head fell to the ground.
Just as he was clenching his fists, preparing to howl at the moon.
The wolf met his end—noble as any hero’s statue, yet as pitiful as the lowliest of slaves.
—
“Ptooey.”
Had the wardens not spat on the werewolf’s corpse, Bastille might have stayed there a little longer.
The reinforced plastic he had touched lost its cohesion.
Even if it was inanimate, death still existed in everything. Bastille’s touch could dismantle the life of any being and the structure of any inanimate object.
As he walked through the now disintegrated transparent wall, which scattered like glittering dust, Bastille spoke.
“At the very least, mourn for him. If you can’t do that, then don’t disgrace him. No matter how insignificant, what you took was still a life.”