Chapter 84 – Collaborators II

[Proofreader – Gun]

Chapter 84 – Collaborators II

3

Aside from discovering Noh Doha’s peculiar affinity for choking, everything was proceeding as planned.

The SG-net was buzzing.

-Anonymous: I heard the National Road Administration’s head isn’t around? Is that true?

-[NRA] Cadet: It’s true. Our boss is on a long leave.

└Anonymous: ?

└Anonymous: ?

└LiteratureGirl: That machine needed a vacation?

-[NRA] Cadet: Yep. Even we were surprised. Since the NRA was established, there’s never been a holiday, let alone a vacation. But this time, the boss took a 21-day leave and just disappeared without a word.

└Anonymous: That guy is really unpredictable. Seriously seems like a lunatic.

-KoryoElder: ? lol

└[NRA] Cadet: What? Why?Updated chapters at novelhall.com

└KoryoElder: He just took a 21-day leave and left without a trace? lol

└[NRA] Cadet: Yeah. Why?

└KoryoElder: lolololol

└[NRA] Cadet: ?

-[Three Thousand Worlds] WitchHunter: Hmm...

“Hmm...”

At that moment, Noh Doha, who had been reading the comments beside me, let out a thoughtful hum.

I folded my smartphone, returning from the virtual world to reality.

“What’s the matter?”

“...It’s just this ore. It’s fascinating. It’s light yet sturdy. This really isn’t from Earth. Did you say it was adamantium or something...?”

“Adamantium. Make sure you don’t confuse it with mithril by accident. That could cause a lot of trouble.”

“...Those two words don’t sound similar at all...”

Noh Doha pulled out a monocle and put it on.

Though it was partly because his left eye was particularly weak, it was more of a ritual for her, a signal that he was getting down to serious work.

Just like how soccer players touch the grass or pray before stepping onto the field.

“Hmmm...”

Noh Doha wandered around the mining village, his monocle reflecting the scene of the dwarves crafting weapons.

Clang, clang!

The dwarves mechanically hammered the weapons, and as soon as they completed one, they started the same process again. However, the completed items did not remain in reality; they dissolved into the air.

Noh Doha reached out to touch the remnants in the air.

“Hmmm... A village where items disappear right after being made. But it seems I can learn their blacksmithing skills just by watching...”

“How is it? Do you understand anything?”

“Well, not really. You might call me a blacksmith, but I’m just a maker of assistive devices... If you ask me to make weapons out of the blue, it’s quite difficult...”

Muttering, Noh Doha extended his right arm toward me while keeping his gaze fixed on the dwarves.

I grabbed a hammer and tongs from another dwarf and handed them to him. His pale fingers silently grasped the tools.

“Do you think I’m Doraemon? Making limbs is hard enough, but now you want me to build roads, organize and run the National Road Administration, balance the power of military guilds, goddamn. Do you think I’m a vending machine that spits out whatever you poke...?”

Clang.

Noh Doha mimicked the dwarf with a sideways glance. Clang, the unfamiliar material caused his hammer to slightly miss its mark.

“Hmmm...”

The corner of Noh Doha’s mouth twitched. He kept his lips tightly shut and imitated the dwarf from start to finish for hours.

By that night, Noh Doha was holding a sword. Its form was somewhat clumsy, and its balance was completely off, a crude blade.

But under the moonlight, it undeniably had the outline of a sword. His slender eyes, like the moonlight, traced the blade’s curve. His gaze was so sharp that placing the two together seemed like it would cut the blade itself.

“Hm. I’m not sure yet. I might need to start with something simpler, like a hoe...”

From that night onward, Noh Doha practically stopped eating and drinking, relentlessly imitating the dwarves one by one.

Clang, clang-

I followed him like an assistant, carrying tools. We made a great team.

“...”

The shadows of the dwarves remained in place of the humans who had left to escape the monsters.

The mining village, long in decline.

In a village where it was just the two of us, the clang of metal endlessly echoed.

Naturally, this reminded me of something.

Hundreds of years ago.

To Noh Doha, who seemed to have “Respect for the Elderly” inscribed on his skull, I must have appeared to be a very desirable apprentice.

“Doctor Jang apprentice.”

“Doctor Jang employee.”

“Assistant.”

“Assistant Doctor Jang.”

Each time my title changed, Noh Doha’s list of workshop employees underwent a transformation.

6

With Noh Doha realizing he no longer needed to lower his standards, he fully awakened as a true bourgeoisie. He began delegating all the tedious tasks to me—personnel management, customer relations, internal faction management, revenue improvement.

“Assistant.”

Eight years.

It took eight years for the six-syllable title “Doctor Jang Apprentice” to shrink to the two-syllable “Assistant.”

Reducing it by merely one syllable every two years—truly a testament to how difficult it was to get close to her.

“Yes, Master.”

“Are you not evacuating, Assistant? They say those anomalies are consuming the northern cities one by one and heading south.”

“Master, really? Where would we evacuate to from Busan?”

“Japan, perhaps. China. Or even further down to Southeast Asia. There are always unlimited places to run to in the world, aren’t there?”

“Do you think those places will be any safer? I’m staying put.”

It wasn’t just me.

Every time we faced annihilation, it was surprising how many people decided not to run until the end.

Noh Doha was no exception.

“Have you heard? The Three Thousand Realms are forming a final resistance force to launch a counterattack.”

“Hmm. Do you think they’ll succeed?”

“It’s unlikely. Even if they do, it’s uncertain. The moment the anomalies formed a ‘monster wave,’ it was already over.”

“Really?”

“The anomalies aren’t particularly friendly with each other. Their types and personalities are inherently different. The fact that they have formed a legion means they have excluded any incompatible types and personalities, fusing into one entity. No, calling them an entity is misleading. They are just... a mass of cancer cells. Bugs in the world. Even if we manage to defend Busan this time, the anomalies will keep spreading, aimlessly disseminating the bug.”

“Hmmm.”

Noh Doha smiled with his eyes.

“Why are you smiling?”

“Oh, nothing. Sometimes... I think you know an awful lot, Assistant.”

“....”

“Well, it doesn’t really matter...”

The next day, the final resistance force that the Korean Peninsula had squeezed out was swallowed by the tidal wave of anomalies.

“Assistant.”

“Yes.”

“What are you doing? It’s 8 o’clock, and you haven’t opened the shop yet. Do you think you can skip out now because you’re the senior employee? Should I help you fill out your resignation letter?”

“No, Master. I’m on it.”

Click.

I flipped the sign on the glass door from [Closed] to [Opened].

On the day the last city on the Korean Peninsula fell.

Noh Doha’s workshop opened for business as usual.

7

Despite the impending apocalypse, Noh Doha and I continued our daily routines as if nothing was happening. The anomalies drew closer each day, and the tension in Busan escalated.

“Assistant, did you finish the custom prosthetic order for Mr. Kim?”

“Yes, it’s ready for pickup.”

“Good. Let’s keep our clients satisfied, even if the world is ending.”

The city’s atmosphere grew more desperate, with more and more people seeking prosthetics, either due to accidents or encounters with anomalies. Our workshop became a haven for those who had lost hope, providing them with the means to keep going, if only for a little while longer.

“Master, do you ever think about leaving all this behind?”

“No. This workshop is my world. I’ll stay here until the end.”

His resolve was unshakeable, and it inspired a similar determination in me. The city’s final stand was near, but within the walls of our workshop, life continued as it always had.

“Assistant, I need you to deliver this prosthetic to the hospital. They’re short on staff, and the patients can’t make it here.”

“Understood. I’ll head out right away.”

I navigated the war-torn streets, delivering hope in the form of prosthetics to those who needed it most. The gratitude in their eyes was enough to keep me going.

Returning to the workshop, I found Noh Doha deeply engrossed in his work, the clang of his tools echoing a defiance against the chaos outside.

“Master, the delivery is done.”

“Good. Now, let’s get back to work. We still have a lot to do.”

As the final battle for Busan loomed, we continued to serve our community, determined to make a difference no matter how small. The workshop, filled with the sounds of creation and resilience, stood as a beacon of hope in a world on the brink of collapse.

[Proofreader – Gun]