Apocalypse Survival Guide

Chapter 142 : Rescue Fantasy (13)

Rescue Fantasy (13)

Unlike how tense I felt when opening the door, the interior of the entryway revealed itself to be nothing out of the ordinary.

The place was littered with broken security robots and chunks of flesh and bloodstains that looked as if they had been dropped by mutants. But that was nothing special anymore. It was something as commonplace as the dust in the air—visible everywhere I turned.

As I inhaled, the heavy scent of blood, soaked deeply into the very fabric of the space, clung to my mucous membranes. It was so thick and cloying that it nearly choked me.

The entryway wasn't dark. The lights were functioning normally, and there were no signs of mutants. The intense sense of unease I'd felt in Utopia was absent as well.

But I didn't let my guard down. Before opening the door, both Celestia and I had heard it clearly. The sound of laughter from beyond the door as we approached.

'I want to let my guard down, but I can't afford to.'

This was an environment where carelessness could get you killed. Hyper-vigilance for survival could never be excessive. I surveyed the area, ready to respond to whatever might happen, no matter the situation.

There were two corridors. Both routes led to the medical sector: one was a tram track, the other a regular pedestrian passage.

Structurally, the medical sector was located beside the Nexus Central Plaza, but the distance was considerable. Taking the tram would have been fastest.

"I'll check it out."

Carry and I guarded Celestia as she worked the tram station console. The hologram window outside had already indicated that no trams were operational, but you never know.

Any hope we had was short-lived. Celestia shook her head with a troubled expression. It meant there was, unfortunately, no tram we could use.

"There's a log indicating the trams collided. Because of that, the track's been split somewhere in the middle. I think we'll have to walk."

"We don't really have a choice."

We headed for the pedestrian corridor beside the tram station. The corridor was long, but not dreary.

Decorations hung on the walls, and softly glowing lights illuminated the path. Maybe because it connected the Nexus to the medical sector, it felt more like walking down a hotel hallway than through a tunnel.

Suppressing my urge to run, I managed to slow my pace and asked, "Celestia, what were you about to say earlier?"

"Oh, do you remember the record we found in the waste disposal sector—the one from the shuttle?"

I remembered the record Celestia mentioned clearly. The last conversation of the crew, left in a medibag used in the medical sector, capturing events leading up to the shuttle crash.

I nodded, and Celestia continued quietly.

"And the part about clones of high-ranking staff?"

It had just come up in passing, but I remembered. I'd replayed the record several times in hopes of discovering anything new. I nodded again.

Celestia spoke now in a serious tone. "I found evidence that there was a clone operation in the medical sector. Well, 'evidence' might be too mild—it's practically obvious if you dig just a little."

Clones. Individuals whose DNA is identical or nearly identical; in short, human replicas. It was a technology completely banned after the creation of the biocell.

Actually, even before that, cloning was forbidden—but I'd heard people tended to turn a blind eye to it back in those days.

It was simply more efficient and cost-effective to cultivate an entire replica rather than growing specific organs.

Humans break down, like any machine. When organs fail, repair—or replacement and reinforcement—is required.

Cloning technology made society better in some ways. For those whose bodies had been wrecked by disease, aging, or accidents, it offered hope.

And yet, society tabooed it because the negatives outweighed the positives.

Questions of whether artificial clones deserved the status of 'human', aside from birth defects, paled in comparison to the problem of misuse.

People illegally harvested the DNA of famous figures to make them into playthings, used clones as test subjects for illicit drug experiments, or—like doppelgänger stories—clones replaced originals. There were even legal disputes over it, though the outcomes were never made public.

Only one thing was certain: noble intentions don't always yield noble results.

Huge auction rings trafficking in clones were uncovered, shocking the world. The ugly side of the capital market was exposed, and the Earth government violently cracked down to make an example.

The footage was edited for broadcast, showing countless illegally grown human clones locked behind bars or hanging from hooks like slaughtered animals—images so horrific they defied belief.

When Carrot asked if he could draw my blood, Nadia overreacted in part because the trauma from those events lingered, even after all this time.

"...... Even with biocells, there's still a lucrative clone trade? Doesn't law enforcement respond harshly—even resorting to force—when any trace is found?"

"That's the typical response. And the normal one. But Hyun-woo, shadows can be found anywhere. Blind spots can always be expanded. As awful as it sounds, clones are perfect as playthings. It's a technology too good to give up."

Playthings. The word left a bad taste—maybe because Cystus once called me Lobelia's 'plaything'.

Even with the advent of superior biocell technology, people still trafficked and bought human clones for their own amusement. I couldn't understand it.

"So what do you want me to do?"

"Just stay alert enough that nothing inside can catch you off guard. Do what you always do."

"...... It seems like you've got a guess about something."

I sensed that Celestia wasn't telling me everything.

"I'm not certain, but you remember that flesh sphere we saw outside Heaven? I think it's made up of clones."

"How could you possibly......?"

I wondered if, like a special code in a notebook, a barcode was imprinted on their skin. But that wasn't it.

"That face I locked eyes with—it belonged to someone I knew. More precisely, on the first day of this disaster, he died right in front of me, leaving not even a trace. It makes no sense that the same face would appear there."

She mentioned a high-ranking staff clone. Apparently, someone Celestia had once known was tied to that, before we got isolated in the central tower.

'A clone, huh.......'

A warning about monsters infesting the medical sector surfaced in my memory. I'd already learned from earlier records that before the outbreak, they'd stopped accepting patients.

Everyone on the verge of becoming ghouls would have been sent to the medical sector, so overcrowding was inevitable. And with clones thrown into the mix, it must have become hellish. Being a clone didn't mean you wouldn't become a monster.

Imagining waves of creatures surging toward us, I found myself gripping my weapon more tightly—unconsciously seeking comfort.

"Carry."

「(ㅇࡇㅇ)?」

"If there comes a moment where we have to set priorities, the biocell comes first. Operate on the assumption that it's not just the highest, but the zero-level priority. Got it?"

「(ᯣ_ᯣ)」

Carry made a deadpan face, as if asking why I was acting so unlike myself.

Celestia was right—this wasn't like me. But still, I judged it best to have some insurance.

Knowing Carry's personality, if I didn't set this ahead of time, it'd likely prioritize me on its own.

The biocell wasn't just needed to save Nadia. There was a good chance this was the last and only biocell we could possibly acquire.

What does a biocell do? Miraculously restores lost body tissue. It didn't need to be said how precious it would appear to mutants.

Ghouls even grind their own kin in the crimson pool or creep, so what would they do to a biocell? That, too, would become food.

That might be why the biocell disappeared from the store—because the warehouse was wiped out, it vanished from inventory as soon as stocks ran out. The only explanation for such mass depletion at once was consumption.

「( っ °､｡)っ」

Carry flopped over, as if refusing to listen, but I knew that when it mattered most, it would prioritize my words. I gave it a rough pat and turned my attention back to Celestia.

"Celestia, any idea where the thing you're looking for might be?"

I came for the biocell, and though Celestia wanted it too, it wasn't her main purpose. She'd followed me to look for clues about her missing brother.

"There's probably a facility for cultivating clones hidden somewhere in the medical sector."

A hidden place. Even the thought of it made our path feel daunting. Celestia's expression darkened, as if she felt the same. But she forced herself to put on a determined look.

"Of course, everything—finding it, getting there—comes after we secure the biocell. I don't go back on my word."

Celestia reiterated that if things went south, she would consent to being knocked unconscious—right then, a groaning sound echoed from the entryway, where the corridor turned at a sharp "ㄱ" angle.

Beyond that single corner, the background split dramatically. The spread of creep that must have originated from the medical sector was obvious—likely where the tram collision had happened, as Celestia mentioned.

All around, signs of a massive explosion centered on the two trams marked the area. Were these people once tram passengers? Those who hadn't become ghouls had turned into nothing more than nutrients, being absorbed into the creep.

The sight of their surface decomposition was nauseatingly graphic. The flesh sphere hadn't appeared yet, but it would—deeper inside.

And following the traces left by that sphere might be our best chance of finding the hidden sector. Watching mutants begin to crawl out, I murmured low:

"Prepare for combat. Steady yourselves. I think this will take a while."

"...... Right. Now's not the time to pass out, huh?"

We readied our weapons with renewed determination. It didn't matter what came out—we were going to smash anything in our way.

Just one more sector to clear before reaching the medical sector.

***

"Huff...! Huff...!"

People clad in heavy armor reminiscent of medieval knights were running for their lives. A military insignia was etched on their shoulders.

Their suits weren't in great condition—a sign that they'd already been through a lot. Every step they took sent thunderous sounds echoing down the path.

Lighter pattering footsteps followed. The pursuers were smaller mutants, with footfalls lighter than ghouls but no less vicious.

No, they might have been even worse. Crashing through the dense growth, they looked every inch the little devils.

「Kiiiiee!」

"Filthy little demon bastards......!"

It was a deadly game of cat and mouse, the roles reversed. Their faces told the opposite stories.

It was hard to believe this was Titan, the ice moon; dense vegetation surrounded them, more like a jungle than a satellite world.

A man, finally unable to endure the suffocating undergrowth and pressure of pursuit, tried to turn with his pulse rifle in hand.

"If you stop now, you'll die for nothing! Just follow the captain's beacon—don't do anything stupid, you idiot!"

A female teammate, falling behind to keep watch on him, yelled at him. Her tone left no room for doubt: Did he want to die too? The man clenched his teeth and glanced at the ammo counter on his rifle.

The gauge flashed red, signaling a need to reload. He had spare magazines, but swapping them required stopping—and stopping now meant certain death.

After the security protocol triggered, the group—a detachment from SSTC 1st Military Base Keter—took the risk, leaving the bunker to complete their mission.

Over twenty of them had started out, but, one by one, battles reduced their number until less than half remained. All because of those devils. Supplies weren't the problem—they'd had to leave gear behind now that manpower was running short.

'Fucking pureblood supremacist bastards......!'

Ever since those maniacs seized the central sector of Heaven, they'd lost all contact with their captain. When they tried to regroup at their prearranged rendezvous point... what awaited them were pureblood supremacists armed to the teeth.

Those enemies had brought along bizarrely modified military power loaders from the base, mowing down their comrades. The horrifying memory was still vivid in his mind.

For the sake of his captain—who had drawn attention to save their men—and for the colleagues who died buying time, the man had to live. He had to.

Spurred by those memories, he summoned what strength he had left, pressing onward—desperate to find someplace, any place, where he could catch his breath.

Right as they passed a holographic message:

〈Hydroponic Facility – Lowest Level Growing Chamber〉

「Part of the sector is contaminated. Due to contamination, plants have overgrown. Abnormally growing vegetation threatens to collapse the facility. All workers within the sector must immediately initiate decontamination procedures.」

Above their heads, a light source scattered golden brilliance.

It was a solar furnace.

-------------= Clacky's Corner -------------=

Edward wasn't lying.

A lot is happening. Need to process carefully.

【ദ്ദി(⩌ᴗ⩌)】