Clearing the Game at the End of the World
Chapter 176: Lead and Silver Coins (30)

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Swoosh!

Throwing oneself forward, eerily bright twin yellow lights instantly cling to the side.

The transformed creature's appearance was, indeed, close to that of a tiger. To be precise, it was closer to ‘what had been a tiger.'

The skin and facial muscles rotted and decayed, leaving only traces of fur and skin on a skull that definitely resembled that of a large feline. The bizarre sight of yellow sclera flashing in the empty eye sockets. The fur visible through the tattered military uniform was dry and dull like that of a completely decayed corpse, but oddly, the essence within was filled with the resilient muscles characteristic of a predator.

It was as if it was a predator whose exterior had completely rotted away.

Crack! Crick-crack!

Sparks fly where hand meets hand, and in the moment of catching one's breath after deflecting a blade aimed at the side, a gun barrel has already found its place before one's eyes.

"Damn it… So fast!"

Bang!

Eeeeee-

A ringing in the ears accompanied by a burning pain. I was grateful for the pain at the tips of my ears, for there was no better assurance that I had dodged the enemy's attack, given how my head was so heated I couldn't even remember what I was doing!

The fact that I had blocked it meant that the enemy's guard was down.

There is a flow in close combat. Both the attacker and the defender must endure the same shock, and those in motion have a harder time regaining their balance than those standing still, leading to a failure in attack turning into a change in offense and defense. The most basic common sense in close combat.

My left arm was stiff from the shock of defense, but my right arm was free. Thanks to the forward momentum, aiming at the enemy's head, now fully exposed to the front, unusually fast for someone who had lost their balance…

"…?! Damn!"

Swoosh!

Thud!

Instinctively applying the brakes with my toes and stepping back, the creature's saw-like teeth brushed past my approaching right arm. The bite strength was enough to make my ears ring from the sound of teeth clashing.

"Argh! This bastard bites! Common sense doesn't work on him!"

"Ha ha ha! Then, wouldn't a tiger bite a person?"

"What tiger! Like a zombie tiger or something!"

Trying to buy some time with conversation, but I realized that conventional methods wouldn't allow me to gain the upper hand against it.

The ferocious claws coming from the blind spot and the huge teeth aiming for the neck. The movement was beast-like, but as I dodged and moved, the creature's gun barrel was suddenly in front of my head.

A combat style that swings wild nature with precise calculation, almost perfected.

I don't know what memories it was born from, but this variant calling itself Old Tiger was undoubtedly specialized in combat.

"Damn it. It's coming again!"

I saw the creature leap. I needed to dodge, but my balance was already severely off from hastily stepping back.

"I can't… dodge!"

Ping!

In a split second, my left hand pulled the pin from a grenade at my waist and rolled it towards my back as I fell, positioning us both perfectly to be caught in the explosion.

The creature's bright yellow pupils tracked the pin before it even hit the ground. The sound of the fuse burning must have reached the beast's ears. Truly intending to detonate the grenade rolled towards myself.

"To die together, huh. Such a pathetic act!"

With a growl, it twisted its body. Perfectly launching itself forward, it then used its waist to spin around, kicking off the ground with a flexible movement to create distance.

Click-click, roll-roll…

However, the expected explosion did not sound, and as the creature retreated, I barely managed to create some distance, finally catching my breath.

"A dud… Relying on such luck isn't like me."

Click.

Seemingly amused, Old Tiger picked up the dropped grenade.

At the top of the grenade's safety handle, the metal between the fuse and the detonator was crushed, rendering the grenade incapable of exploding. It wasn't a simple defect; it looked like it had been pressed with a very strong force, which brought a satisfied smile to Bulu's lips.

"A trick… Yes. Your most favored claw. Sharp and cunning. Quite a sight to see. Excellent. Truly excellent!"

"….After turning someone into rags, that's praise."

"Even in this situation, you have the leisure to say such things, so of course, I must praise."

"It's not about being leisurely, dude. It's just the kind of person I am."

Bulu chuckled and tried to remove his hand that had been pressing down on his side.

Pssht-

‘Damn it. It burst open. Somehow, I need to stop the bleeding…. Need to keep him talking….’

The first strike. Unable to handle the surprisingly sharp movement of the creature, my side was deeply cut.

If it hadn't been for the rapidly clotting agent I had activated, my entrails would have spilled out. Even with the good medicine provided by Dome, wounds need time to heal. If it starts to attack again, the wound will only worsen.

An insurmountable enemy.

Me, currently in dire need of immediate medical attention due to a fatal injury.

Suddenly, an idea so wise it made me wonder why I hadn't thought of it before came to mind.

‘Run away!’

Upon further thought, the current situation was too strange. This is a Type 3 variant. A walking disaster of the wasteland. Treated almost like a natural disaster.

In District 47, even when capturing a Old Picture, it took dozens of mortar shells, a truckload of ammunition and explosives, plus specially prepared countermeasures to subdue it. I had painfully learned just how brutish a Type 3 variant could be back then. And here I am, not a war boy shouting [He's calling for me!] and walking into death willingly. Unless there's something wrong with my head….!

‘The virus! Damn, there is something wrong with my head after all! No wonder I felt more alive but somewhat dumber! This is exactly like being high on hormones!’

It was a common sight on the battlefield. Soldiers who had doped, forbidden except for special operations due to its side effects, charged into battle like berserkers right before being sent into the fray. Their bravery, knowing well they might die, and my own actions, running around the base alone looking for the enemy, were eerily similar. Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ N0vᴇlFire(.)nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of nøvels early and in the highest quality.

‘…The virus is urging me, its host, to fight. What is Hyde doing? Hey! Hyde! Look after the brain, will you? It's broken!’

[—Ahh- —-is this—-]

‘…Hyde?’

[–my house—- like a dog—- yaaah—!]

Hmm. Now that I think about it, Hyde was the resident living inside my head. From a quick glance, it seemed like chaos in there. I should have realized when things got quiet.

Thanks to that, I ended up facing this murderous variant alone. If the virus intended to kill its host, then it was close to achieving its goal. Hmm, maybe I'm thinking clearer because I've lost a lot of blood. Or perhaps Hyde is desperately defending.

Anyway, from a doped fool back to anemic Professor Park, it's time to think this through.

Whether by choice or force, charging in blindly has resulted in a disaster, as you can see.

‘No matter how human-like it appears, both W and this creature are Type 3 variants. Manifestations of trauma born from someone's memories. Like Old Picture, it has weaknesses, and surely they are exposed somewhere.’

Old Picture would project its memories onto its opponent continuously, practically inviting attacks on its weaknesses.

W didn't even need to be asked to explain his past in great detail to us. As if he wanted us to just know.

Trauma is essentially a deep wound left in the psyche. Type 3 variants are beings tied to those negative moments, trying to escape from them in some way. This creature, being a Type 3 variant, surely has a weakness based on those memories.

‘He emphasized the word ‘claw' a lot. It's not just a word to show off its combat power. When I tricked it with the grenade, it even liked that, calling it a claw. Show more claws, push harder…. Does it want to see something from me? Wants me to make it more difficult, a harder opponent?’

I felt like I was on the verge of understanding something. Compared to my battered self, an enemy that hasn't sweated a drop. Its actions, as if W's plan didn't matter at all, and its words, suggesting it had been watching me all along.

"…Are you matching my level? Hey, tiger. You don't plan to kill me, do you?”

At those words, the steps of the creature that I hadn't been able to stop no matter what, halted.

It clearly seemed full of pride. Pushing me into a corner after making me a mess, urging me to show my claws, to push it harder.

He wished for me to be stronger than I am now, attacking me to a non-lethal extent as if to spur growth.

"You're playing with me. No, to be precise, you're molding me as you wish. Corpse tiger. Do you really believe in those ridiculous notions that people develop superhuman strength when cornered, or that pushing someone to their limit will awaken powers like in the comics, multiplying their strength several times over?"

That was the only explanation I could think of. He had been deeply impressed by my gameplay and was pushing me, expecting something from me.

"…Did I give too many hints?"

"Yes. You were practically shouting, begging to be understood. If it's frustration you're after, there's the Raptor Society way over there, filled with countless numbers and monstrously strong beings. Why bother nurturing someone like me?"

"Hmm, no. That's entirely off the mark, Professor Park."

‘So, the beginning was right but not the latter. So it's not about pride or frustration, but he did indeed intend to strengthen me for some purpose?'

Upon closer inspection, these Type 3 variants all had a dark side to them.

Whether it was Old Picture, the epitome of depression; W, who remained ambiguous throughout; or now this bipedal corpse tiger, wanting to bash heads as if they were steel, hoping they wouldn't break but instead become stronger.

"Professor Park, your movements betray a military uniqueness. Where are you from?"

Regardless, his question opened up the conversation. This meant that my still-bleeding side had gained some time to stick back together, and if I played my cards right, he might give me enough time. There was no need to dodge the question.

"….14."

"You've seen proper action then. It seems I've chosen the right person this time."

"‘This time'? So, there were others before me you've toyed with in the same way?"

"Toying is not the right term. It was a test, instruction, and a process for progress."

"….By tearing apart bodies and smashing heads?"

"One cannot refrain from peeling an apple just because the fruit complains of the pain."

While casually entertaining his conversation, I pulled out another emergency patch from my pocket and applied it to my side. He made no move to stop me.

"…What is it you're so eager to create? Let's talk. If you're not planning to kill me, I might accept your teachings to become what you desire."

"There's no need for that. You are nearly complete. An upright individual. Someone who can, in any situation, even in the face of death, throw all their claws at the opponent and charge. I've roamed this desolate world wanting to meet such a person. Someone upright yet stronger than me. If none exist, I must create one, a being I must meet."

"…And if you meet them? You'll ask them to be friends because you're compatible?"

Old Tiger shook his head.

"No. Quite the opposite. If I finally meet him again, I will be tested once more. To see if I am indeed different from the original past. If I was born from such deep regret, whether I have truly overcome that ugly essence."

Bulu recalled the memories that constituted the soul of the original.

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Hiding his ugly and cowardly true self, he wanted to be more extraordinary than anyone.

He was the commander of the 42nd Special Operations Unit. A great commander who had succeeded in numerous operations and survived to gain wealth and honor.

But every time he heard such false honor, he wanted to run away in shame.

While everyone rushed forward, he was the one to turn back.

He actively used the sacrifice of his comrades, always securing the safest position and choosing the easiest opponents to ensure his survival despite his superior skills.

The result was the countless comrades he had changed over time. A lonely commander with no peers left to share memories of the battlefield.

Instead of carrying a comrade with a broken leg to escape together, he left him in a trench equipped with a machine gun. Only by leaving him behind could he survive as the last sparks of his comrade's life were extinguished by the sound of gunfire.

When isolated behind enemy lines without supplies, everyone was starving, but he survived by maintaining his strength with food and water he had hidden from the start.

He had promised countless times to stay with them, but whenever the fear of death approached, he always made the same choice. An unbearable shame. Guilt. He hadn't wished for any honors. He had simply struggled to live. Why do people praise the coward who survived instead of the comrades who died, awarding me with rewards?

"….Grrrr."

Whenever he shivered with his own miserableness, he would always seek out the warehouse at the edge of the base.

The Bengal tiger, as big as a house, but now just a skeletal figure after being trapped for a long time.

It had been trapped while searching for food. Thinking to skin it and send its hide as a gift to his superior for more support, he had planned to keep it until he found an expert.

"Grrrrr. Gwaaah!"

Clang! Clang clang!

Despite not having eaten or drunk for days, I was captivated by the look in the beast's eyes as it lunged towards me, trying to bite me through the iron bars. That integrity, disregarding its own life. Why did that look of hatred comfort me so? It was through this beast alone that I felt I received the treatment I deserved.

I sent the butcher away, and the tiger within the iron bars stayed in the warehouse. I wanted to see that look of hatred flourish and then watch as it dimmed and died away. In the end, at the moment of death, this beautiful creature would also struggle hideously towards life. Thus proving that my actions were close to human nature, proving that I wasn’t wrong.

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"However, Bulu, that great tiger never extinguished its hatred, even at the moment of its death."

The final memory of the original. A survivalist so immersed in self-loathing that he couldn’t even remember his own name.

"There was an enemy airstrike, and despite his efforts to survive, he was absurdly close to dying from a bomb shard. Clutching his bleeding stomach, he ran towards the warehouse. I don't know why. Maybe he wanted to prove his innocence until the last moment, or perhaps he just ran to the place that had always given him comfort out of habit."

There, he meets his end, greeted by the sharp claws of the tiger, which had always generously provided him with scorn and hatred.

"Bulu… the old great tiger thought of only one thing. I will kill the one who imprisoned me here. Just once, if I could sink my claws into his neck! That would be enough. And when the human, bleeding, leaned against his cage, Bulu knew his time had come. The forepaws of the tiger, already blurred from not having eaten anything to the point of dying, were miserably thin. Normally, not even a finger could fit through the gap in the bars, but now his entire paw could be shoved through."

The man was trembling and bleeding. His neck caught by the gleaming claws, mercilessly pulled.

"The last thing the man, whose neck was nearly severed, saw was the tiger looking down on him. A miserably skeletal figure. Yet, its eyes shone brightly, seeming satisfied as he fell! At that moment, he experienced unbearable misery and enlightenment. Ah, I didn't want to see the beast broken."

It was a moment of proof. A proof that his life, admired and praised by everyone for surviving well, was wrong. A proof that there were others who, like his comrades who rushed towards death, emitted something other than fear in the face of death!

In his dying moment, his fingers touched the carcass of the tiger he had always admired. And the virus, taking over the host's body, began to pull in the carcass of the most vividly remembered entity in the host's memory into its body…..

Professor felt a sense of awe in the midst of his continuous recollections.

"Wait a minute. So, your goal is…?"

"Yes. I want to experience the fear of death once more. The inescapable death. In that absolute terror, will I run away as the man did in the past, or will I fight back like the tiger? Did the man truly overcome his ugly nature in his final moment, or was it merely comfort? To prove this, I've done quite grotesque things. Throwing myself into a horde of armed humans, charging at those among the so-called Type 3 variants that seemed absurdly strong. I've even attacked those you call Raptors. But I realized none of them were the opponent I was looking for. The human hordes were too weak. The Type 3 friend was strong enough to kill me, but there was no will in its eyes. Just a large inanimate object reacting mechanically. The Raptors… maybe they could have been a substitute, but they weren't satisfying enough."

Step. Step.

The flaming skull of the old tiger approached me.

"What I want is a worthy adversary. Someone who can remain detached in the face of death's terror, just like that tiger who threw everything away for just a moment. Someone who can push me to the edge and gift me the fear of death. There's probably somewhere I could die right now. I'm not invincible, and I can't face endless enemies forever. But death met in a crowd isn't satisfying. I want someone like him, who can project everything onto me. There have been those who were detached in the face of death, but they didn't overcome their limits and simply died. There were those who reached the brink of Type 3, but they were just half-corpses stuck in the past. None could become the worthy adversary I sought.

The beast's foul smell was almost upon me, close enough to feel. Though it had no expression, I could sense it. He was genuinely happy.

"In my series of failures, I finally found you. Through countless pains and fears of death, you move forward, not backward. You've already started your metamorphosis with your own strength, yet your integrity remains unbroken! Finally, I've found it! The most perfect material to become my adversary!"

I left him to his passionate rant and slowly started to back away. I had pulled enough time to clot the blood, and true to the unstable ego of a Type 3 variant, he enjoyed talking about his origins and past.

The problem was, the flaw or weakness in that memory was absurd.

‘His goal is self-verification. He wants to experience the fear of death, but only a single entity that meets his standards can be the target. He needs to prove whether he's a coward or brave? So, he'll only be satisfied if he's defeated in a one-on-one battle! What kind of masochist is this?'

The bigger problem was, he had chosen me as that target. The way he spoke was so earnest, as if he was about to propose; it didn't seem like he'd let me go easily.

Screech-

He slowly approached me, retracting my steps, and unsheathed his claws.

"Struggle as much as you can, add to the ordeal. You've already proved yourself to me in many ways, so it won't take long. Perhaps, we can move on to the final stage right now."

"The final stage… is?"

"To die. You must die to be reborn as a strong and perfect adversary of mine. You're already partly unstable in this state, but if you fully turn into Type 3… Hmm. Exciting. I can't wait!"

"!!!"

‘He's saying he'll kill me!'

Slowly, slowly, slowly!

My backing away sped up. To think, a powerful old man was telling me ‘I can't wait' in this context. I shouldn't have come here!

As I backed away frantically, I scanned my surroundings for anything useful. Something, anything, to fend him off…!

Crunch!

"Erai!"

The moment I heard the beast's hind legs digging into the ground, I ripped off a car door that was within reach and threw it, then put all my effort into leaping to the opposite side of the creature.

"Trying to escape? Still trying to defy your destined fate!"

"Just let me go, you maniac! I'll probably turn into a mutant soon anyway, just wait until then!"

Screech-!

"The wait has been too long! Just give up and surrender your neck! I'll make you reborn as my very own adversary!"

Crunch!

"Argh! Stop your nonsense! A damned old furry masochist yandere male corpse! Don't court me with your crazy traits that no industry would accept!"

I threw whatever fragments I could grab behind me as I ran towards the outside of the base.

If there was anything to be gained from my conversation with the creature, it was that there was no need to worry about it attacking the rear of District 47 reinforcements if I fled. After all, this corpse tiger had followed me here.

‘The sprinting speed is similar! If I keep leading it outside the base, buying time, Ian and Ezel's team will finish up top, and without a sniper, the base's forces can push the enemy back, creating some breathing room, and then, uh… our forces will come to save me! Holding this thing off is already doing my part! Yes, that's the plan-‘

Screech-

"Uuuugh!!! Oh God!"

Professor desperately prayed, seeing a chunk of his hair being sliced off by the beast's claw. He pleaded for support to arrive while he was still alive.

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