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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 9
Chapter Title: The Overcrowded Tent
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Following his guidance, the place they arrived at was a large tent designed to accommodate twenty-four people. Suspecting it might be a trap, Winter first peered inside through the window. The only lighting was a single incandescent bulb hanging in the center. In the dimness, uneasy eyes flickered nervously. Their gazes met. They were on guard.
It was strange. There were nearly twice as many people as the rated capacity. The facilities aside, there were plenty of tents. The moment he harbored doubts, the AI responded.
「AI Help (Insight Rank 6): The more people, the greater the assurance of safety. High likelihood of a single weak faction, an alliance of vulnerable factions, or a group of unaffiliated individuals.」
Indeed. Thinking a bit more made it clear. Factions with power occupied entire zones, so there was no reason for them to crowd into a single tent.
Winter followed Yeoncheol inside.
A light tension hung in the air. Yeoncheol clapped his hands to draw attention, then introduced Winter to the group, who all seemed somewhat cowed.
"Those who've worked with him or heard the rumors already know, but everything has its order, right? Allow me to introduce him. This is Mr. Han Gyeowol. Give him a round of applause."
It was an unbearably awkward introduction. Calling someone much younger than himself "Mr." was odd enough, and asking for applause like it was some event was bizarre. But no one had the leisure to point it out. It was probably Yeoncheol's best effort.
More than half the members looked incapable of combat. There were babies who couldn't even walk yet with their mothers, gaunt women, patients, and the elderly. They had simple, timid impressions. At least there were some sturdy men, so resistance was possible if things went south.
Once the clumsy applause died down, Winter was offered a chair near the central heater. It was the most plausible seat, while the others used folding chairs or just sat on the bare ground if none were available.
Winter spoke.
"I have a guess why you called me here."
"Is that so?"
Yeoncheol's expression hardened. The boy nodded.
"You want me to stay with you, right? Essentially, to protect you."
No immediate reply came. But that silence itself was affirmation. It was the hesitation of someone reluctant to broach the topic; if it were a denial, he would have stated it outright by now.
"Pathetic."
An aged voice murmured. It came from an elderly man with age spots on his face. His wrinkles were deeply etched by time. He sighed and finished his words.
"Pathetic. Shameful. No face to show. At my age, hoping a kid young enough to be my grandson will help us. Makes me wonder if I've lost my mind. What's the point of living…? Might as well die right here."
"Sir, please don't say that."
Yeoncheol panicked and tried to stop the old man. He was glancing at the boy.
"There was an incredible incident on the way here, you know. Eleven tails, including Korean Patriots Association action squad members, but Winter spotted them and intimidated the whole lot into backing off. The rumors weren't exaggerated at all. You can't judge by age alone."
Then he turned to Winter with a pleading tone.
"Um, did that offend you?"
"Not really. I am young, after all."
Even if this were reality, he would have accepted it. He knew the world system imposed interaction penalties on minors. If reality was like that, why would virtual reality differ? There was no new reason to feel unpleasant. No need to pretend to be angry, either.
On the other hand, this reaction was exactly what the boy considered the most realistic. The AI composition based on TOM readings was designed that way. TOM stood for Theory of Mind, the brain mechanism for judging others' emotions.
Yeoncheol, unsure if Winter's words were sincere or polite empty talk, cautiously broached the main point.
"We didn't mean to burden you. Anyway, you're right, Winter. We want your help. The people here with us haven't joined any organization, and that's caused us all sorts of trouble. We think if someone influential steps up as our representative, we could form our own organization… That's why we invited you after looking around."
"You said 'us'—how many in total?"
"About seventy-nine…"
He trailed off, likely because there weren't many useful people relative to the size. In hard times, the useless were discarded first. These were the discarded ones banding together.
Winter rephrased his question.
"How many can fight?"
As Yeoncheol opened his mouth to answer, Winter emphasized.
"Honestly."
The short word was firm and intimidating. It was necessary. Leadership experience was needed anyway, and it only came from leading a community.
He would consider their proposal positively, but showing only kindness and gentleness wouldn't let him take or hold a leadership role. He'd just get exploited or betrayed unilaterally. He knew this well from multiple playthroughs. Being young already invited underestimation. Being too soft would spell trouble.
The boy was adept at reading others' minds. Talent played a part, but more so from years of caring for his family… or rather, living by gauging their moods since childhood. Personally, he found AI easier than people.
Dodging with lies now would backfire later when exposed, driving Winter away. They'd likely think it best to be honest from the start. Yeoncheol had that look. He sighed.
"Seventeen… people."
"That's few."
"...."
Winter's blunt assessment brought a chill to the tent, as if winter had arrived prematurely. Yeoncheol sighed repeatedly and fell silent for a long while. Then, with difficulty, he continued.
"I know. Someone like you could join any organization and get good treatment. But since you're still alone, I figure there must be something uncomfortable about it, or their thuggery doesn't sit right with you. If I'm right, help us. Please."
"I can barely fend for myself."
Push and pull in negotiation. The desperate side loses. He needed to give the impression he wasn't eager, making it harder for them to complain later. The existing organizations were highly immoral anyway. Joining and succeeding would just bring headaches. Every group had its intrigues and corruption, but he wanted to avoid it if possible. Some even enjoyed it, but not him.
No matter how good the terms, he had no intention of joining. But the weak harbored their own malice. Even now, sharp gazes denying the boy dotted the tent.
They needed him now, so they'd use him, but he was just a novice. Once they realized their own superiority, they'd aim for his spot.
Or selfish glints too. They didn't want personal risk, so anyone would do. Age didn't matter; they just wanted to shove responsibility onto him. To them, the boy was a convenient tool. Flatter him outwardly, reap benefits.
The weak weren't necessarily kind. Weakness could breed evil for survival. The oppressed weak often oppressed even weaker ones. To survive the moment.
But that didn't prove inherent unkindness. Most would repent and regret if situations changed. Proof of how meticulously this virtual reality mimicked real-life nuances.
Though their disheveled looks made it hard to tell, a woman around college age raised her hand. Her confident expression was striking.
"We're not thinking of just receiving help one-sidedly. If you protect us from other groups' abuses, we'll follow your orders as much as possible. You'd be the leader."
Empty flattery. Winter read her intent to see him as young and exploitable. Even if not deliberate, subconscious biases existed.
That sparked a chain of voices.
"Honestly, it's embarrassing to ask this of someone not even an adult yet. That kid bravely went out and got famous, and here I am, an adult, doing nothing. But in this situation, pride means nothing. We have to acknowledge it. Winter, right? You're far better than a weak coward like me. Age is meaningless. Plenty of adults can't even care for themselves."
"It's been ages since I ate properly. Now, even if I want to do something, my body's too wasted. Winter, help us out. A few good meals, and we'll regain strength to contribute."
"Yeah, kid. If you go scavenging food again later, isn't it better to trust your own people behind you than unreliable ones? My husband's old, but he's an ex-Marine."
"I can't produce milk from starvation. I don't care if I die, but I want my baby to live."
At this, Winter felt a heavy, time-worn lump rolling and thudding in his chest like a rock. Parents. The word parents. Now one of the boy's reverse scales. Not just parents—all family.
He raised one hand to halt the outpouring words and looked at the woman holding her baby. Her haggard, emaciated frame made her look aged, cheeks sunken. What had she looked like before? Her features were sharp. Staring quietly, he asked.
"Where's the father?"
"...."
Injured or dead—that was the guess, but reality differed. The woman clamped her mouth shut with a displeased expression. Another woman, who'd mentioned her husband earlier, answered instead.
"He shacked up elsewhere."
"Shacked up?"
"Joined the Damul Prosperity Society, and they hooked him up with a woman, so he started a new household."
A type Winter had encountered exactly once before.
After hearing various other pleas, Winter stood.
"I'll think about your proposal. Hard to decide right now."
Leaving it open like that, he offered a carrot.
"Take this for now."
"Oh, this is...."
What he handed over was the bundle of ration coupons he'd stashed away. Before the supply run, Lieutenant Capston had personally given him some extras, and the outstanding results earned him rewards for ten people—quite a lot. Averaging five days' worth per person, ten shares made fifty coupons.
Casually pulling out the thick stack left them stunned. Desperate faces. Hands reaching out froze upon eye contact. Some even teared up. In this camp, offering food was more than a huge quantity—it was a sip of water to the parched. This single act could shift perceptions of the boy dramatically.
"I'll finish dinner as early as possible tonight and be at the ration depot. We bumped into them on the way, so they probably won't openly rob us if I'm there."
People heading to the ration depot naturally carried coupons, making it the most frequent robbery spot.
Such consideration—imprinting leadership skills before deciding—greatly altered early community members' mindsets. The benefit of teasing acceptance.
Winter left the tent amid their earnest yet still calculating farewells.