By Zephyria 
[25 years, 8 months, and 14 days since the recorded date]
“Welcome, General Jin.”
A crackling video is projected into the air. The image quality is poor, making it difficult to clearly discern the man’s features, but he appears to be a young man with a bob cut.
Similarly, the static-filled voice is unclear. The screen occasionally glitches, suggesting a problem with the storage device.
Even from a single greeting, the man’s unique accent is noticeable, indicating he isn’t using a translator.
Jin Mu-hae silently stares intently at the flickering video, as if trying to bore a hole through it.
“Surveillance within the city is becoming increasingly strict. It seems they’ve caught wind of something suspicious. It’s become difficult to transmit important information as easily as before. I’m leaving this recording near Goryeo City, trying to avoid raising suspicion as much as possible.”
“Chi-ji-jik…”
“Unfortunately, there isn’t enough time to exchange pleasantries.”
“I know.”
“Be quiet.”
“I’ve come here to report on the progress of the research. This is just my personal opinion, but I believe we’re nearing the final stages.”
“—
Chi-jik…ron
There are still many steps left until completion, but we’re in a better situation than before in that we’ve properly grasped the key. Everyone agrees that Crystal Blue is a substance that came from outside.”
“Ji-jik…a certain vegetation
We’ve confirmed that a method to prevent the changes is observed in specific areas.”
“—
Chiiiii…”
“In that regard, I consider it fortunate to have made contact with a young and promising scientist like you.”
Research progress. Mu-hae furrows his brow, trying to recall.
Come to think of it, the conversation logs left in the hideout also contained content implying cooperation with other cities.
A strange feeling arises. Perhaps it’s because the voice even turns into a mechanical sound whenever static interferes with the video.
Mu-hae feels as if he’s stepping into the boundary of time. In the quiet mountain path of Takra, where only two living humans exist, the relics of the past fill the silence with voices.
“—
…You
The information you’ve sent has been a great help. Therefore, we intend to continue this research on our end, as initially promised, even if contact with you is lost.”
“—
Chiiik…also beeuzeeuzeeu—jijijik-.”
It’s a shame that some parts are difficult to understand due to the sibilance, but it’s much better than the machine being completely dead.
Besides, even if the sound quality were clear, he wouldn’t have understood everything anyway. So, Mu-hae decides to focus on the external details instead of the research content.
For example, the man’s slightly harsh tone, as if he’s angry, is likely a regional accent.
He feels like he’s heard it somewhere before, but it’s definitely not from the surrounding cities. If he encountered it while traveling around as a mercenary, it means they were mercenaries or lower-class workers in similar situations.
Did the lowest class of that city escape and settle in other regions? Or is that just the kind of people he’s been exposed to?
Chi-ji-ji—!
Zeuzeeu—chiiik-!
A long burst of static returns to Mu-hae’s ears as he searches his memory. Even the Hologram Window flickers a few times before a more damaged audio recording fills its place.
“—
Oh, and did you ask about the situation on this side?”
‘This side.’ Mu-hae doesn’t know who Return flight was communicating with, but it seems like the man’s place of origin is about to be revealed.
Mu-hae slightly clenches his teeth. According to his father’s records, groups like Return flight existed all over the world.
If his father had ties to them, then the next clue Mu-hae needs to find might not be limited to within Goryeo City.
How far away did they come from… Leaving aside the many regions around Goryeo City, how can they call this isolated island ‘nearby’?
“—
This place… Chiiiiik!”
“Damn.”
The screen glitches for a moment, and the video rewinds. Jin Mu-hae hurriedly shakes the machine, trying to fix the stuttering. He thought the data would be lost, but fortunately, the cylindrical storage device stubbornly continues to do its job even in its broken state.
As the grotesquely stretched-out voice creaks and finds its orbit again, Mu-hae sighs in relief.
And finally, the other party’s message is heard.
“—This place,
Solar City,
is frankly desperate. The intensified surveillance and pressure are likely largely due to that.”
“……!”
Mu-hae’s eyes widen slightly at the familiar place name. He glances sideways at Joo-oh, who, for once, isn’t watching Mu-hae but is looking at the hologram.
Fortunately, he doesn’t seem panicked or surprised, like when he has nightmares. Only interest is reflected in his red eyes.
Joo-oh tilts his head slightly to one side.
“Although it hasn’t been publicly disclosed, we’ve built a system that predicts the origin of Crystal Blue in advance. Based on simulations conducted over the past few years, the accuracy is close to 90%. That system has predicted the creation of a new Crystal Zone.”
“—A vast area spanning the entire Black Tree Canyon.”
“—Yes. It’s less than 10 kilometers from Solar City. If this prediction is true, the shadow of death will loom over a prosperous human city.”
The man, who had been calmly continuing his report, stops speaking, holding his forehead. Even in the almost grotesquely shaking screen, a sense of despair can be felt.
Then, as if there’s no more time to waste, a subdued voice emerges.
“Only now do I understand why the leaders of this city have repeated such reckless and daring experiments.”
Chi-ji-jik… Collapsed resea
rch ethics and budget allocations bordering on wastefulness were unavoidable choices in the face of the Comfort zone’s safety.
“—
Chiiiiik!”
“—
In fact, we’ve partially disclosed your data to the people of the city. Since the research to control Crystal Blue has shifted its direction towards ‘annihilation’ since then, I hope you won’t be too angry.”
“—
Chi-ji-ji…”
“—
…is…….
“—I’ll continue to deliver updates in a similar manner next time. If possible, that is.”
“—We’re cheering for you and your companion from across the distant sea. May humanity be able to live in the world it has lost.”
Pi-ji-jik-!
The machine, having squeezed out the last of the video, emits a sparking sound and meets its end. Thin black smoke rises from inside the cylindrical body.
Mu-hae hurriedly takes out a blade and pries open the light outlet, but the internal components have already melted down, leaving nothing to salvage.
The space where the data would have been is blackened and charred.
“Damn it.”
“It’s okay. I remembered it.”
“You think I didn’t?”
Mu-hae impulsively throws back a curt reply to the words of comfort. Joo-oh’s eyebrows immediately droop.
Jin Mu-hae sighs and clenches his fist. When you think about it, he was the one who found this thing, but he took out his anger for no reason.
“I really remembered it exactly.”
“Yeah.”
“I can even imitate it exactly.”
“Okay, I get it.”
Joo-oh squeezes his eyes shut as if wanting to be believed. His neat eyebrows are particularly clear in his vision.
Koo-oong. Koong. Suddenly, his heart starts beating like a drum, and Mu-hae quietly presses his chest.
Is that pout a protest of his disappointment? Just in case, he reaches out, and the dark, glossy hair quickly comes closer and sticks to him.
“Touch… no, stroke me.”
The gesture begging for praise is like a trained Beast. Mu-hae fiddles with the soft hair and strokes the forehead that isn’t even slightly sweaty.
It’s as if that’s some kind of therapy, and his tension miraculously eases. Joo-oh half-closes his eyes and leans heavily against Mu-hae’s body.
“Jin Mu-hae. Are we going home now?”
“Yeah. Not home, but to Jaegang District.”
“I like it there.”
Red lips break into a broad smile. Well, it’s understandable that he likes it, since he’s always seen dirty alleys and old houses before entering a decent neighborhood.
Mu-hae finds his own behavior of constantly getting angry and wavering with this guy amusing. He’s lived a life far removed from the word ’emotional,’ but he gets heated up in various ways only with him.
“Let’s go back.”
As he pushes away the clinging body, the warmth recedes. Mu-hae unconsciously clenches and unclenches his hand once before walking with large strides towards the road where he parked his bike.
Joo-oh follows behind, making quick footsteps. He’s noticed recently that Joo-oh can move around silently if he wants to.
But if he makes these sounds, he can know without having to check separately. The fact that he’s walking around so clumsily like this is entirely for the sake of his companion.
Solar City is a city that existed relatively recently. It has a clear existence, considering the various urban legends surrounding it.
It even lasted longer than Return flight. When you think about it, what’s truly mysterious is Return flight, which disappeared without ever being outwardly revealed.
If it hadn’t suffered destructive damage from the sudden surge of Aberrants, the word ‘Solar’ would have given a glamorous and prosperous feeling instead of a bleak and ominous one.
If they were really continuing their research to eliminate Crystal Blue, then perhaps the next goal Jin Mu-hae needs to find is there.
[Matching search results: 0]
“Damn it.”
However, finding information related to Solar City isn’t an easy task. In the first place, information, unless released at the city level, has always been the exclusive property of those who possess it.
Communication within Goryeo City is censored by Central. The reason why the destruction of Solar City isn’t clearly known, despite not being a distant past, is because the relevant data doesn’t appear anywhere on pages that have passed through communication.
Thus, through the imbalance of information, people earned money as much as they knew, and those with a lot of money inevitably knew more.
There’s a reason why the majority of the elite group of researchers come from Central and residential areas in good condition.
‘I wonder when Gu-reum will contact me again.’
Mu-hae leans back against the armchair with a thud and looks at the ceiling. The hideout, with only the faint sound of the fan turning, feels somehow awkward.
Since when has he lived with someone else that it’s strange to be alone now? This is all Joo-oh’s fault for constantly clinging to him.
He went out to the surface a few hours ago, saying he was going for a walk, with only a bag slung over his shoulder. Seeing him always wearing the empty bag, it seems he considers even that part of his outfit.
When he comes back, he’s always chewing on something like candy in his mouth. Once, when he asked if he still had money left, he said.
‘Humans gave it to me.’
‘Why would people give you something like that?’
‘It’s true. I said it looked delicious, and they gave me this much.’
He does have the face for it, but anyway, he’s a carefree guy.
When you think about it, he’s also a member of Return flight now, so is it right for him to suffer alone? But when Mu-hae sees that gluttonous guy handing him snacks to eat, his venom melts away.