Not long after that mountain-sized steel behemoth slowly rumbled to life, its treads grinding over the wasteland gravel with a dull roar, Ren Yi saw Evans once again.
Before that, however, a small episode had occurred.
Perhaps out of some sense of palliative care for the doomed, Evans was given a "sweet treat."
...
Due to that roar, which sounded like a great beast awakening, Evans—who had just finished his medical examination and was slumped on the hard bed in the "staff dormitory"—was thrown directly to the floor by the sudden surge of inertia.
He hit the ground with a heavy thud.
"Hiss..." Evans propped himself up from the floor. Likely due to his prolonged state of hunger, the fall caused his vision to swim with dark spots.
He looked around in a daze.
Just then, rhythmic, heavy footsteps echoed from the corridor.
Following that, the electronic door emitted a light mechanical click and slid open with a hiss.
Standing at the door was the errand boy, B406.
His mechanical prosthetic eye flickered with a faint blue light in the dim corridor. His gaze fell on Evans, who hadn't yet fully stood up, and then swept over the marks on the floor, appearing slightly surprised.
"Get up. The Doctor is waiting for you."
Evans, currently with his back to him, paused slightly upon hearing this, then turned his head with a look of astonishment.
"The Doctor..." he murmured.
"Now?" he asked, confused, seemingly wondering if the base was under attack.
"Stop whining. We're just performing a routine turn."
"A turn? To where?" Evans repeated.
"If nothing goes wrong, to your original destination: the Red Tide riverbed."
B406 lacked the patience for further explanation. He stepped aside and made a "follow me" gesture.
After a few steps, he seemed to remember something, stopped, and added without looking back.
"Come on. Before we go to the lab, your cooperation has earned you a reward."
At the word "reward," Evans instinctively shrank his neck.
But B406's next words made his heart skip a beat.
"Go see that nearly dead Tribal Chief of yours. Though we stripped his mechanical arm as hazardous waste, we managed to save his life."
At that moment, Evans no longer cared to investigate what kind of monster this land ship was; he followed closely behind B406.
From a blind spot he couldn't see, the strand of Ren Yi's perception residing on Evans watched everything with boredom, like an invisible camera.
Evans's performance was perfectly normal.
However, that sudden burst of joy from before, and the way his Ammunition had been instantly replenished to the brim, remained lodged in Ren Yi's heart like a thorn.
Under B406's lead, Evans traversed several deep, alloy corridors before finally stopping in front of an observation room that reeked of disinfectant.
Since the land ship was traveling at full speed, the emergency lights on the ceiling would occasionally flicker as the treads ground over boulders.
In that flickering light, Evans saw the old man who once stood valiantly on the wasteland.
The Tribal Chief on the hospital bed now looked as aged as a piece of crumpled old parchment.
"Tribal Chief..." Evans called out softly, rushing to the bedside in a few steps.
The old man opened his clouded eyes. His gaze roamed over Evans for a long while before finally showing a hint of relief. Then, his eyes fell upon his empty right shoulder.
That mechanical arm—a fusion of wasteland technology that could once tear beasts apart with bare hands—was gone. All that remained was a bandaged stump, looking exceptionally bleak against the stark white sheets.
The old man opened his clouded eyes, his parched lips moving to form a smile that looked more painful than crying. "You brat, what are you crying for?"
Evans showed a rare display of emotion. "I'm sorry, Pop. If it weren't for me, the tribe wouldn't have been targeted by them."
"That person was right. I'm a calamity. I really am a monster that only brings misfortune..."
The boy's back slumped as the psychological pressure of the past few days finally exploded.
"I'm a monster that crawled out of the Stomach. I should have died that night."
Evans clutched the sheets, speaking incoherently. "I shouldn't have collapsed by the Red Mud Swamp three years ago. I shouldn't have let you pick me up..."
The old man used his remaining hand—rough as tree bark—to tremblingly pat Evans's head.
The old man's voice was hoarse. "I only lost a piece of scrap metal, not my life. These People on the Lake... they're truly something. This room is actually moving."
"I'm sorry, Pop... I've ruined you," Evans choked out.
"No, Evans, this isn't your fault." Though weak, the old man's voice carried the grit of a wasteland dweller.
"Anyone from the Red Ring who has eaten meat from our pot is our own cub."
"A monster? In this world, who isn't a monster? Aren't those 'People on the Lake' who hide their faces behind masks more like monsters than you?"
"As for the tribe..."
The old man squeezed Evans's hand slightly and gave a pale smile.
"Since you've become a staff member here, there will be a way."
Evans's trembling shoulders suddenly stiffened upon hearing those words.
He fell silent.
The boy's silence felt exceptionally jarring in the deathly quiet hospital room.
He knew all too well what kind of "staff member" he actually was.
In the eyes of these people, he was nothing more than a sophisticated piece of Consumables that happened to have a mouth.
The light in the old man's eyes faded bit by bit. He slowly released his grip, a bitter smile forced onto his face.
"Look at me... I'm getting senile. It's enough that you're alive. I shouldn't add to your troubles."
"Pop, I..."
The Chief shook his head, then bitterly let go of his hand and turned away. "Good... good lad. Go back now. Don't keep the important people waiting."
Before this brief, oppressive warmth could linger, the electronic door emitted a heartless warning chime.
B406 pushed the door open and entered like a punctual alarm clock, heartlessly leading Evans away.
Then came another round of near-humiliating medical checks: blood draws, skin tests, and deep scans.
Evans allowed them to manipulate him like a puppet until he was brought before Ren Yi once again.
This time, however, they were not locked in the same sealed space.
As the final metal door slid open, Ren Yi found a thick layer of reinforced bulletproof glass standing between him and Evans.
Meanwhile, in the shadows, Ren Yi had already heard the purpose of this experiment clearly through Dr. Cyril's perception.
"Verify if B-013-A possesses the instinct for 'Kindred Recognition.'" The Doctor's voice echoed in Ren Yi's mind.
Rate on N.U.
