—————————————————————–
Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Zaped
—————————————————————–
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
We descended to the hotel lobby. We needed to see the man at the desk.
Camilla hadn’t dressed as a man this time. Instead, she was wearing a headscarf, thick-rimmed glasses, and had exaggerated the dark circles under her eyes.
It was easier to disguise herself if she looked sicker rather than trying to hide her femininity.
“Are you sure you’re okay? You dressed as a man the last time you came here.”
“They don’t remember the face of every guest. They’re not that meticulous. If they were, they wouldn’t be able to run this place. Besides, once they’ve taken your money, they don’t care. Anyway, there are so many people here.”
While the overall atmosphere was similar to the previous day, there were even more people.
In the lobby’s computer room, people were glued to their screens, frantically refreshing the page.
They were probably checking real-time prices.
A long queue formed in front of the “Exchange Office” where people were scanning QR codes to verify the authenticity of their Continental Credits.
The lobby and entrance were bustling with activity.
People were constantly coming and going. They were of all ages and appearances but shared many similarities. Almost all of them were in couples, mostly heterosexual but also same-sex.
Their behavior was also similar.
The women leaving the hotel could barely walk.
They were sobbing uncontrollably and limping due to the pain.
The men, on the other hand, walked with hurried steps but looked completely empty.
They dragged their feet, their eyes fixed straight ahead, muttering the same words over and over: “It’s the same for everyone. We’re all like this. But at least we can survive.”
Those entering the hotel hesitated as they watched those leaving.
“Do we really have to do this? I mean, filming ourselves like that?”
“What else can we do? Sleep on the streets and become zombies? It’s just like what we normally do. We just wear masks. Who cares?”
People were forming alliances based on mutual benefit.
“You’re the person I’m supposed to meet, right?” “Yes.”
They were cooperating, albeit reluctantly.
“I don’t want to go, but what choice do I have? If not here, I’ll have to go to that cult’s shelter. And I don’t want that.”
Others moved quickly, slipping past the desk. They were the ones who could afford to pay for a room and avoid filming.
One of them almost bumped into Camilla. He jumped forward and quickly apologized.
“Thank you,” Camilla smiled.
“Are there any other places like this? I mean, this can’t be the only hotel, right? It doesn’t seem normal.”
Camilla replied, “There used to be many. Really. But most of them have disappeared. The only places left are the rich and powerful people’s villas, back alleys, or the shelters run by the Cult of the Starving Goddess. None of them are good places. They’re worse than here.”
“What happened?”
“The kind and trusting people were the first to die. Then came the kind but suspicious ones. Now, only those who are neither kind nor trusting, who don’t help or believe others, remain. But the fact that all these people, from all over the country, died within three weeks seems a bit unnatural, doesn’t it?”
“Do you think the Syndicate did it?”
Camilla nodded.
“The Liberation Front thinks so. They found evidence and even made propaganda, but no one listened. The Syndicate is the political enforcer of the Elza government. They created distrust and imposed their own order on the world, just like Roemer did to Elza.”
Camilla’s words echoed in my mind. I remembered her telling me that I had prevented a bomb from going off in Hamton. Now, her words took on a whole new meaning.
“If a bomb had gone off in Hamton…”
Camilla frowned at my muttered words.
“Elza is a house of cards. Every component hates each other but barely manages to hold on. The Liberation Front couldn’t offer a better alternative, and the Syndicate established its own order. If a bomb had exploded, even that fragile order would have collapsed. It would have been satisfying, but…”
I knew what she was going to say.
“Because people would have died, right?”
Camilla smiled softly and took my hand.
Just then, we heard a bell ringing.
People murmured nervously. Most of them frowned.
“Ugh, those guys again,” one person grumbled.
“They just wander around with their zombies.”
“Disgusting.”
“True believers don’t act like that.”
Curious, we moved closer to the front.
Camilla hesitated slightly but followed me.
A strange parade was making its way down the road.
There were over thirty people in the procession.
They wore gas masks and were adorned with what looked like rusty tin cans. They resembled the crude robots often seen in old cartoons, but even more crudely constructed.
The joints of their makeshift armor were wrapped in tape and secured with twine. They didn’t carry guns, but instead wielded long, frightening weapons – a large Chinese cleaver mounted on a long metal pole.
“Repent! Repent your sins! The time of famine has come!”
A monotonous chant echoed from a loudspeaker mounted on a shopping cart.
Camilla and I exchanged a glance.
“Repent! Do not commit sin! Those who succumb to their hunger will become zombies! Those who succumb to desire will become zombies! Repent your sins!”
The wooden statues in the cart were getting closer.
The first statue depicted a winged woman, an angel.
From a distance, it looked like she was looking up to the sky, singing a hymn.
Her head was tilted upwards, her folded arms covering her chest.
But it was grotesque.
Her chest was completely hollow.
No, it wasn’t just hollow; the flesh was gone, revealing her ribs.
It was as if this angelic figure was modestly covering a non-existent chest.
Her lower abdomen was even more disturbing.
It was completely open, triangular in shape.
Even though it was a wooden statue, it was deeply unsettling.
But the most disturbing feature was her face.
She was smiling, but her mouth was wide open. Her gums were swollen, and her teeth were sharp, as if she were about to bite into the sky.
Behind her was a statue of a naked man.
He had no eyes, no nose, only a gaping maw of teeth and gums.
The male statue had genitals, but the testicles were missing.
His face was different from the woman’s. He seemed to be crying, but his mouth was still open, revealing those sharp teeth.
“Repent!”
The man at the front shouted, his voice booming through the loudspeaker.
He had an incredibly powerful voice.
“Repent, young man! Repent! The Starving Goddess has spoken! She says that you will bear the sins of the world! She will bear the weight of your sins within her! Oh, Mother! Our Mother! She will walk beneath the earth, bearing our poison within her!”
One of the followers threw pamphlets into the crowd.
I reached for one, but Camilla hesitated.
“You don’t like these people, do you?”
“…These pamphlets, they take a lot of effort to make. I know, I’ve tried. Wait a moment… this…”
Camilla’s eyes widened. She recognized the faces in the pamphlet.
“…Those people… they were the ones from the resort, weren’t they? The elderly couple who worked there for a long time?”
“Andy. That’s Andy. The one who liked sandwiches…”
The pamphlet read, “Miracle! Severed limbs reattached! The Goddess sends her two angels to aid the oppressed! (The mainstream media is hiding the truth! Wake up!)”
There were close-up photos of the injuries.
The very injuries they had treated.
“…Their limbs were reattached? Is that even possible?”
Murmurs of disbelief rippled through the crowd.
“It’s probably a fake,” someone said.
“Photoshop, probably.”
“…I guess so.”
Even Camilla seemed doubtful.
“Believe!”
The man at the front shouted, his voice thunderous.
“Believe! Doubt blinds you to the truth! If you open your heart, even a sliver, a ray of light will shine upon you!”
Bang!
A gunshot rang out.
The crowd recoiled. Hotel staff members emerged, brandishing pistols.
“Get out of here! Stop disturbing our business!”
“Listen here!”
The zealot leader raised his weapon.
“Those who commit sins alone are less sinful than those who drag others into the abyss of sin!”
Click!
The safety on the zealots’ weapons was disengaged. The hotel staff scowled back.
“Move it! Get out of here before I start shooting!”
Bang!
The soldier in the police car fired a warning shot into the air. No one seemed surprised.
The zealot leader continued, “When you succumb to greed and devour each other, when you are consumed by hunger, you will be left with nothing but teeth and gums!”
Whirr Whirr
The police car’s engine revved.
“Get out of here! This is a dispersal order!”
The zealot leader pointed at me.
“Young man! Young man! Listen! The Goddess has spoken! Four knights will rise! The end is nigh!”
Bang!
Another warning shot.
“We will meet at Deer Square! We will not cause any trouble. We will slay any zombies that come near! We will ensure your safe return! Please, listen to us! Please!”
The zealots began chanting, their voices rising in unison.
“Deer Square! Deer Square! Before the four knights arrive, we must awaken!”
Blood dripped onto the pavement from the wounds of the zealots. Camilla whispered in my ear.
“Those angels… they’re gone, aren’t they?”
I could only nod in response.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Fernando led us into a private room.
I was worried that he might take out his nightstick and “punish” me, but he simply smiled and left the door slightly ajar.
“Please, have a seat. Would you like some tea? I have a fine selection, including some rare teas imported from Roemer.”
“I’ll have some,” I said.
“I’ll just have some water,” Camilla replied. “I’m taking medication for a headache.”
Fernando brought a cup of tea for me and a glass of lukewarm water for Camilla, along with a small plate of candied lemon slices.
“These are candied lemon slices,” he said. “They’re good for headaches.”
Camilla dropped the lemon slice into the water.
It didn’t sink, but instead clung to the side of the glass, the thick syrup slowly dripping into the water.
My tea, on the other hand, brewed beautifully.
The tea leaves unfurled and danced in the water, releasing a fragrant aroma.
Fernando sipped his coffee.
“You inquired about high-end goods,” he began.
“These items are traded differently than ordinary goods. The demand is limited, and the buyers are discerning. They require trust and discretion.”
I understood.
These buyers were likely “people from the center” – the wealthy elite.
They were the type who would be concerned about their social status and wouldn’t want to be seen associating with the “lower classes” of the hotel.
They would only deal with trusted intermediaries.
“I understand. How does one find these buyers?” I asked.
Fernando clasped his hands together, his fingers adorned with gold rings.
I noticed a tattoo on his knuckles – “K.I.S.S.” on one hand and “K.I.L.L.” on the other. An unusual combination for a man of his demeanor.
“In this case, the traditional supply and demand model doesn’t apply,” he explained. “Supply exceeds demand. Therefore, we must cater to the needs of the buyers. Let me give you an example.
Years ago, a group of refugees from the non-protected zones raided a high-end boutique.
But there were no buyers for those luxury goods.
The hotel purchased them at a fraction of their original cost and then waited for the right buyers.
That’s how the market works in a disaster.
In this case, we won’t be directly involved in the transactions. We will provide you with a ‘meeting place’ – a platform for connecting with potential buyers.”
He was essentially talking about setting up a meeting between the buyers and sellers.
“The manager is considering whether or not to grant you access to this internal network. It’s a way of establishing a partnership.”
Essentially, they were interviewing me for the privilege of using their platform.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Too much politics. I want BLOOD I want DESTRUCTION