Chapter 7: Chief Engineer-San (Pak)

Ulsan. Ulsan. Ulsan. The Grand Mountain...

The name of the city echoed in my mind. How could it be? A city of nearly one million people reduced to just seven? The seventh largest city in Korea reduced to rubble? How did it come to this?

Ulsan. Ulsan. Ulsan.

I was there once. Back in 1935. That was the port where I caught my boat to Manchuria. I was only ten at the time, but my teachers claimed that I had "the intellect of a college graduate." Mitsubishi offered me a chance to study at their logging and mining plants in Manchukuo. Lumber and coal fueled the Sakhalin economy, and Mitsubishi wanted me to learn and improve their factories there. They promised to send me to school in Japan if I did well. It seemed to be the only chance for me and my family to escape poverty, and I was determined to do my best. I did eventually make it to Manchukuo, but I couldn't remember much after that.

Recovering my personal memories could wait. The people in Ulsan couldn't. The radio transmission was still ringing inside my head. What did the radio transmission mean? Were there dead souls like me in Korea? Did they also die mute and inglorious? Were they similarly immortal? What about my own family? Were my parents and siblings still somewhere on Sakhalin Island? They all had miserable lives. And what about my friends in Germany? Were their armies still marching across Europe? Who was still out there? And what were their stories?

I shook my head in disbelief. The radio transmission seemed so real. Those gunshots were clear, and the cries of the announcer were still ringing in my ears. I could feel the cold sweat between my hands and the steering wheel.

"Pak?" Sandra asked, "What was that broadcast?"

"Nothing… nothing of importance." I lied, biting my lips. I don't know why I chose to lie. Maybe I simply didn't want them to worry. Or maybe I was just too shocked to explain. It probably wouldn't have mattered anyway. The broadcast was in Korean, and neither Sandra nor Yim understood a single word of it. But they both knew the sound of sobbing and gunshots.

"It had to be something, Pak," Sandra retorted, "That was definitely not music. Although I still found it more pleasant than Skrillex and EDM." Sandra couldn't help but sigh in contempt.

"Urr… It was just an audio drama… war drama. Audio drama adaptation of… um… Ernest Hemingway's A Farewell to Arms. It just brought back bad memories from the war. That's all."

Sandra raised an eyebrow. "Was that woman Catherine Barkley? She sounded a tad too young." Sandra pointed out sarcastically. "Or was that supposed to be the girl Henry and Aymo encounter during the retreat to Udine?"

Crap. She knew the novel better than I did. Even my photographic memory was useless. I only skimmed the book. I had stumbled upon a copy in the dark attic of the Munich Technical College; most others were burned in the Nazi bonfires of 1933. "Well… no… not exactly… The girl was just a villager talking about how the Austrians broke through the Italian defenses at Caporetto. I just didn't want to be reminded of the war. Too many innocents like her lost their lives."

"Don't you mean the Germans?" Sandra corrected, with a smirk on her face.

"Right… Germans." There was an awkward pause.

"Care to taste some of these dried mangos, friends?" Yim jumped in, getting me out of my predicament. She was sitting in the center seat, and her lifted pieces of dried mangos for both of us. We both took a piece. Yim was clever when it came to on-the-spot thinking. The mangos distracted Sandra as if she were a macaque monkey.

Yim winked at me. She had another trick up her sleeve. Yim took out her mp3 player and connected it to the truck's stereo system. "Oh, and Sandra, you should totally check out Uncle Bird's music. His actual name is Thongchai McIntyre. I consider him to be Thailand's top star-kah. He was the first Thai artist to receive an international MTV Award. Here's my favorite: Sabai, Sabai."

A melodic rhythm flowed from the trucks speakers. The song was cheerful yet clam. It was not as brisk as most K-Pop songs, but it still had a spritely melody. K-pop was like a busy night club, whereas McIntyre was like a relaxing gathering by the beach. The male lead had a soft and relaxed voice. It was a good change of pace from the intense K-Pop and GirlDeMo songs. Sandra enjoyed it even more than I did. She was singing along with the melody, substituting English and Polish for the Thai lyrics. Yim translated between the verses.

"Sabaai sabaai, took jai gor kob gun pbai. Proa chun pben kon mai son aria…"

"I'm easy-going, so see me when you're sad. Because I'm the type who isn't interested in anything…" Yim later told me that the song title meant "happy" and "easy-going". The song was very aptly named. Yim had a very good singing voice too. Sandra and Yim were on par with most of the sopranos at The Staatliches Opereteentheater.

The rest of the trip became a sing-a-long. Yim had some very good taste in music, and Sandra was more than happy to listen. They also, conveniently, occupied the stereo, nullifying my urges to turn the radio back on. I needed to get my mind off of that transmission anyway. Maybe it was just a prank. Maybe it was an actual radio drama. I managed to convince myself to not worry too much about it. Ulsan was very far away, and I couldn't have helped even if I wanted to. Chaa told me that radios and computers in the school could only receive messages, not send them.

No one knew what the broadcast was, anyhow, and no one seemed to care. Yim was busy translating the song lyrics to Sandra, and Sandra was scribbling down her own lyrics to the songs on the dashboard of the vehicle. Most of it was in Polish, but she also wrote in English. She promised to perform them to the Guild next week.

After another twenty minutes of driving and singing, we arrived at an empty parking lot in the mountains. I could see why the SSS liked the location so much. The mountain was mostly covered by forests, but there were also some clearings with small buildings and restrooms. It was an excellent place to get some fresh air, have a picnic, and practice with our weapons. There were lots of wildlife around as well. The chirping of birds and cicadas were a welcome relief from the constant humming and clanging of Guild machinery.

SSS members began unloading the vehicles' cargo. I unhitch the Pak 36 from the back of the truck. The gun, fortunately, was very light. It could be easily moved by two adults, making it ideal in urban and mountainous terrain. It was simple to design and easy to maintain as well, and its advanced optic system made it suitable for use against small targets like Angel. The gun had my name written on it—literally. The gun was Pak's Pak 36.

The gun was usually operated by a crew of three or four. Only the gunner and loader operated the gun itself. The additional crew members assisted the loader and helped with transport. They also had ordinance weapons to defend against enemy infantry.

Since I was the only one who knew how to operate the weapon, I was chosen to be the gunner. Several of the Guild and SSS Combat Division members volunteered to serve as the loader. Yim was especially enthusiastic about it, since she helped produce it in the Guild. I agreed to let her try it out at the first drill.

"Open Fire!" Yurippe shouted, waving around her right arm towards the target—a tall pine tree 1 km away. The artillery piece was already aimed. I only had to press the firing bottom. The gun made a ripping sound like the opening of the zipper on the fly of God Almighty. The gun lapped up dirt and vegetation with a blowtorch a meters long. An explosion rocked the base of the tree. The explosion itself was hardly more powerful than a large hand grenade, but it did not need to be. Yuri told me that close grenade hits were capable of stunning and stopping Angel. A shot like that would have easily definitely stopped her. At more than a kilometer away.

"Hazzah! It works!" I shouted, jumping up in celebration. "Our cannon works!" I had known the components of the gun like the back of my hand, and I was 99% sure that it was going to work. But still, being able to see my invention work filled me with joy. Yim was cheering too. She gave me a tight hug around my waist.

"It works! It works!" Members of the SSS cheered. Some slapped each other on the back. Yuri and Chaa were cheering the loudest. They two walked over and joined our hug.

"The gun works. The gun works." Yim repeated over and over again. "Our gun works."

"Yim and Pak, you guys are now my officially my protégés," Chaa said with a wide smile, "You guys will get permanent priority seating at lunch and at Sandra's performances."

"The SSS congratulates you!" Yuri said, patting both of us on the back. "Silly Angel. I'd love to the look on her face when she sees this weapon. She might finally change expressions for once."

"Her underwear will change colors as well!" Hinata added, generating thunderous laughter from the crowd.

"Guys! Let's give a handful of applause to Pak and Yim for their outstanding work. The crowd did as shell said. People were chanting my name. It was such an honor. I bowed. Yim followed suit.

"You haven't seen anything yet," I said to the crowd, "Wait until you see the rate of fire. Yim, show them!"

We knelt down by the cannon again. Yim opened the breech, removed the spent casing, inserted a new round, and closed the breech within three seconds. All I had to do was to press the firing button. The gun recoiled, and there was another explosion by the base of the tree. Another round had been successfully fired. Yim opened the breech and repeated the process. We could repeat the firing cycle every five seconds.

The rest of the drill involved coordinating our artillery strikes with infantry attacks. Yim and I would first bombard an area high-explosive ammunition to stun Angel. Then, Matsushita would move in to attack with his AT-4 rockets. Large explosions rocked the base of the target birch tree, breaking off its branches. Only the trunk remained.

Then, the SSS members moved in to attack with their firearms. The tree seemed to be engulfed in a sea of tracers. You could see the bark being slowly chipped away. The submachine guns and assault rifles could only break small portions at a time, but Oyama's sniper rifle could break off branches with each and every hit. I set up my PzB 39 to give them some supporting fire, but the laser sight was useless that at range. I made a note to myself to design a telescope sight. The PzB 39 had only an effective range of 300m. It was possible to hit targets up to a kilometer away, but that required a large dosage of luck.

Even though all of the assault team, except Oyama, were firing on the move, their fire was very accurate. I did not know if the accuracy was a result of their modern equipment or their training. It was probably both. Some of them had been in the afterlife school for years. With their skills, equipment, and experience, they probably could have probably outperformed even elite Waffen SS units.

Finally, the assault team closed in on the tree. Some of the members threw smoke grenades to disorientate their "target". Some also threw high-explosive grenades. Then, after the grenades detonated, they closed in with pistols and melee weapons. Noda was the first to reach the target birch tree. He swung his halberd at the tree trunk like an axe. I watched in amazement as the tree trunk split in half. The battle was over.

"What do you think, Pak?" Yurippe asked, "That was our standard assault procedure. You have any suggestions, German military observer?"

"I was an aircraft designer, not a front-line solider," I replied, "But I see a few areas that can be improved."

Yurippe raised an eyebrow, "Please, pray tell."

"Well, instead of attacking from one direction, you could try to attack from multiple directions," I suggested, "Angel is just one target. We can easily flank her."

"Yeah, that's true. We usually do that as well, when we can. Angel is most vulnerable when she is crossing bridges, and this was just practice for those types of attacks."

"I see," I replied, "Why don't you just blow up the bridges? Or the school, for that matter?"

"We blow up bridges as well, occasionally, if we can clear away all the NPCs. But the bridges and buildings in the school 'respawn' a few minutes after they have been blown up. That's how the afterlife works. Most objects cannot be permanently destroyed. Take a look at the target tree."

I looked at the birch tree. Noda's halberd had reduced the tree to a mere stump, but the tree had recovered from the savage attack. I picked up my binoculars to get a better look. Layers of bark were starting to reappear, and the branches were starting to sprout out. Leaves were growing as well. The first pine tree I targeted was completely back to normal.

"That's how things work in the afterlife," Yuri said, "Nothing that was originally here can be destroyed permanently. Whenever we blow up a bridge, the bridge just reappears again after a few minutes, and Angel can cross again. Whenever we blow up a building, the building just rises again. But the things that we make, such as our weapons, can be destroyed. We have to remake them from dirt."

I just nodded. It made a lot of sense. It was no wonder, then, that all those firefights with Angel never left any permanent damage on the buildings.

"Why are you so cautious around NPCs?" I asked, "It's not like that they have souls. And don't they just respawn as well after being killed?"

"They do," Yuri nodded, "And usually with no memory of being killed. At least when they're killed individually. But when they die in large numbers, they tend to remember being hurt in some way. They tell the teachers, and we can end up in a lot of trouble. The teachers can reduce our scholarship funds and ban GirlDeMo performances. Even though they're just NPCs, they can still make our lives very difficult." That made some sense. The scholarships granted by the school were based your academic performance. My scholarship was nearly five times the size of Yuri's. And being at the top also meant that you had access to better lab equipment, better food, and better dorms. My NPC "friends" all complained bitterly about this hierarchical system, but they were all powerless to change it. For them, falling out of favor with the NPC administrators was even worse than Dr. Fuse's chemistry exams.

"And why don't you equip the SSS with more rockets? You said that Angel can absorb and deflect bullets, right?"

"Right, but rockets don't always work either. Angel has a sixth sense when it comes to rockets. It might be due to the smoke trails produced by the rockets. She can usually find a way to dodge Matsushita's AT-4s, and those AT-4s cannot be reloaded. Angel can often deflect our bullet with her blades, but she messes up occasionally. Sometimes, we get lucky and hit her. She recovers very quickly, of course, but we still temporarily stop her."

"I see, so that's why you wanted an artillery piece, huh? So that Angel won't be able to dodge."

"Exactly. We'll have to test it out on her later."

"And have you considered the attaching machine guns to the vans and trucks?"

"We tried, but it wasn't any better than hand-held guns. We figured that concealment was more important and removed them."

"I see," I replied, "But what about tanks and planes?"

Yurippe patted me on the shoulder, "That's what you're here for. I want more than artillery pieces. I want guided missiles, unguided missiles, mortars, armored personnel carriers, whole tank divisions, bombers, jets fighters, destroyers, and battleships. I want to make war against Angel on prairies, in streets, in trenches, on grasslands, on frozen tundras, through deserts, on mountains, on the sea, and in the air. I want to make war against Angel and god in all the ways possible. With all these weapons, I'd be invincible."

The look on Yuri's face was between that of rapture and insanity. She began laughing hysterically. She looked straight up at the sky, as if she were directing her words at god. Her eyes were wide, and her pupils had somehow disappeared. Her mouth was wide open, with her lips forming a huge grin. Her expression was between that of insanity and rapture. I never really got over my first impression that she was a madwoman, and this made me doubt her sanity again.

"Are you the villain?" Yim asked crisply, breaking the trance.

"Thank you the high tension interruption, Yim," Yurippe replied, her expression changing back to normal. "Any other suggestions, chief enginner-san?"

"Have you ever considered using ch…" I stopped myself. I was flabbergasted. How could I think of something like that? Something so terrible and so heinous… I was ashamed of myself. Weapons like that were completely unwarranted.

"Have you ever considered using what?"

"Nothing. It wouldn't work. Nevermind."

"We're all open to suggestions here, Pak. Yim and I aren't going to judge you. You have the most military experience out of all of us."

"I ugg, was going to suggest the usage of flamethrowers," I lied. I was getting better at making these lies up on the spot. "But I really don't know how to make one."

Yuri nodded, "It might be worth a try, but no one knows how to make one. I suppose that we can try learning from a book or something. I still don't know if a weapon like that would work at all against Angel. I'll have to ask Chaa later."

She did not pursue the question any further. The SSS assault team was returning from their exercise. Yuri ran out to greet them with high fives and compliments.

In truth, I did know how to make a flamethrower. They were very simple weapons from an engineering standpoint. The backpack could be made with just compressed nitrogen and a mixture of petrol and a fuel thickener. All the components were probably readily available in the school. I also knew the design of the Flammenwerfer 41 and could easily replicate it. They probably would have been simpler to produce that most of the firearms we used.

But my original suggestion was not flamethrowers. I was going to suggest the use of chemical weapons. I had both a degree in engineering and a degree in chemistry from the Munich Technical University, but I rarely mentioned the latter. I never met Fritz Haber, but I had met with many of his students. I worked briefly at IG Farben under Philippe Hörlein, who was developing new synthetic routes for mustard gas. I also knew how to produce phosgene gas, sarin, and tabun. The latter two were never used, at least not before my death, but mustard gas and phosgene gas were commonly used in WWI. Mustard gas caused severe skin burns and blisters, and phosgene gas attacked the respiratory system, causing irritation and, eventually, suffocation. Sarin and tabun were both nerve agents, causing loss of bodily control. Germany had developed artillery shells to load sarin gas, but it was never used on the Allies. I did not intend to test it out either. Not even against Angel. The Nazis were not even cruel enough to test use them on humans…

But Angel. Was she human?

Was her mind a cluster of a hundred billion neurons? Or was it a bunch of electrical circuits and switches? Did she breathe oxygen and derive energy from food? Or was she powered by electricity and servos? And was her skin made up of cells? Or just layers of plastic and rubber? What about that blade? Was that metal? Or it an organic compound?

Phosgene gas and mustard gas.

Yes. That would do the trick. Both were easy to synthesize and difficult to detect. I could have probably done it using equipment from the chemical department. Neither of them required complicated materials. Phosgene gas could be produced by passing purified carbon monoxide and chlorine through activated carbon catalyst. Chlorine could be obtained at the pool, and carbon monoxide could be generated by passing steam over hot carbon coal. All three components were easy to obtain. And even if I failed to produce phosgene gas, I would still have enough carbon monoxide to incapacitate Angel. Mustard gas could be produced by treating sulfur dichloride with ethylene. Ethylene was readily available inside the chemistry labs, and sulfur dichloride could be made by mixing sulfur with chlorine. There must have been sulfur in the Guild. It always smelled like sulfur down there. Was it possible to turn dirt into sulfur as well? Could there be some sulfur in the chemistry department stockpile as well? Yes. There was probably some sulfur there. If I could get my hands on all the equipment, I could probably get enough gas within a few days.

I wasn't sure how the NPC students would react to the toxic gases, if at all. Neither compound was particularly smelly, anyhow. Phosgene was nearly odorless, and mustard gas only had a faint radish smell. I could probably just cover up the smell with food. Symptoms of exposure to either gas were also slow to appear. Mustard gas burns do not usually appear until a day after exposure, and the symptoms of phosgene exposure take hours to appear. I could just pump the gases into her dorm room and observe the effects in class the next day. These gases were ideal for testing Angel. I just had to find out where she lives and get the right chemicals…

"Pak, Pak. Are you alright?" Yim whispered, waving her hand on front of my face.

"Yeah. I'm fine. Just thinking about battle tactics and ambush positions at school." My lying skills were improving gradually throughout the day, and I could make them at least somewhat convincing. "What's up next?"

"Lunch is next. Then we get to hear Sandra sing for us. After that, we planned out a few more drills, and we can hike a bit in the afternoon and have a picnic-kah. We leave for school just before the sun sets. And oh yeah. Wait here. I prepared something for you." She ran off in the direction of the Mitsubishi truck and returned with her backpack. She took out two bento boxes and gave one to me.

"Here. I prepared something special for you-kah. Just don't tell the other guys, or they might start to get jealous."

"Thanks!" I gladly accepted the bento box. Yim was an amazing cook, and she was quite proud of that too. Her breakfast was fantastic, and I couldn't wait to see what she made me for lunch. There was a sweet aroma coming from the box.

The bento was simple but elegant. It consisted mostly of spliced mangos and white rice, with sprinkles of coconut powder on top. She even left two mint leafs on the top of the rice to make it more visually appealing. The smell alone made my mouth water.

We ate on some picnic tables in front of an observation tower. Many of the SSS members walked over to personally congratulate Yim and me on the success of our artillery piece, offering us soft drinks and some of their food. They were a gregarious bunch.

"Could you design a new baseball pitching machine for me?" Hinata asked, stuffing his mouth with rice, "The ones used by the school aren't fast enough. I need something more challenging."

"Could you make fireworks for the next GirlDeMo concert?" Yui asked. Her eyes seemed to be sparkling, "It'll be so awesome. Fireworks and GirlDeMo are like the best things in the world."

"Dude, that cannon was a blast," TK congratulated me, "Dang gone it. Biggest bang since the King of Pop." He did some strange dance moves.

"Try some of these potato chips," Oyama said, offering a bag. "It'd be awesome if you could let me try out some of you PzB 39 later. If it's not too inconvenient for you, of course. I'd love to try out an actual anti-tank rifle." Why was there always a catch? But I agreed anyway. He could offer me some much-needed experience handling large guns like that.

"Congrats on the good work today," Fujimaki slapped me on the back, hard enough to make me cough up my food, "By the way, could you make a laser katana?"

"And a laser halberd for me," Noda added, "I want a titanium one that can shoot lasers in all directions."

Sandra sneaked up behind the two morons and smashed their heads together with a resounding bang. "Leave him alone, morons," Sandra complained, "Can't you guys let him eat in peace."

"Ur… Thanks, Sandra… And sorry guys, I don't know how lasers work."

Fujimaki gave her a dirty look but stayed quiet. Noda didn't say anything either. Hinata and Oyama scooted to make room for Sandra.

"I see that Yim cooked for you," Sandra observed, taking out her bento box of pierogi, "You can tell by the smell. It's very good." I nodded and immediately felt a series of hard kicks to my shins and saw a few jealous looks.

The rest of the lunch consisted of just random small talk. We chatted about our food, clothing, complemented each other on their equipment, and complained about the difficulty of calculus problem sets (which I felt were a piece of cake). The conversation started to fragment after a while. Yim and Sandra discussed music, Takamatsu and Noda talked about bodybuilding, and Oyama discussed potato chips with TK. Matsushita was too preoccupied with his udon to say anything, and Yuri was eating at another table with the Yui and Yusa.

Hinata and Fujimaki, both die-hard baseball fans, were arguing about the upcoming baseball games. Hinata was still a fan of his old team—the Hokkaido Nippon-Ham Fighters, in spite of his past. In 2009, he missed a fly ball during an important baseball game, costing his team the championship. One of his teammates offered him drugs to curb his depression, and he became addicted. The drugs rapidly degraded his mental sharpness. When he finally noticed that truck plowing towards him, it was too already late…

Fujimaki was from Nagoya. He was a fan of the Chunichi Dragons—the winners in 2007. Even though they won in 2007, they apparently have a very poor record. Hinata was mocking them until Fujimaki hit him with his shirasaya. That temporarily quieted him.

Fujimaki was also an athlete. He came from a long line of kendo masters. He was very good at it, but he hated the strict discipline involved. He ran away from home when he was fifteen and joined a Yakuza organization in Nagoya, dealing drugs, extorting local stores, and operating illegal gambling dens. He wanted to make a name for himself and become the oyabun. But his recklessness and ambition soon earned the ire of his kyodai, who tied him up and threw him into a river. His body was never recovered, and he is still classified as missing by the police.

Chaa and I were both practical men who wanted to solve technical problems. The Tunnels to the Guild were never really designed to handle heavy equipment like artillery pieces and tanks. We had to expand. I proposed a rail system, but Chaa didn't like the idea. He was a fortunate survivor of a train derailment accident in Tokyo in 2000. The speeding train derailed at a bend in an underground tunnel. Chaa himself managed to escape with minor injuries, but many were not so lucky. The cars at the front of the train were trapped inside the tunnel, and many survivors died of dehydration before rescue workers arrived. The story made headlines all around the world, which unanimously praised the heroism of the survivors. I felt sorry for the victims. Dehydration must have been a terrible way to die. At least my death was quick.

After the meal, Sandra performed an amazing rendition of The Battle Hymn of the Republic. I understood all the lyrics, and it was very moving. But words like freedom and truth were not.

The afternoon was filled with more drills. We practiced an indoor raid against Angel. Matsushita kicked down the front doors of one of the cabins, Hinata threw in a smoke grenade, and we shot the hell out of the target soup cans. My MP 40 performed very well in these confined spaces. It was light and reliable, and the laser sight allowed me to aim quickly and accurately in the dark. The accuracy and firepower were still inferior to those of newer weapons like Takamatsu's MP-5, but it still got the job done. The MP 40 had very little recoil, and that made it easier for me to generate a stream of accurate fire.

Drills later in the afternoon took place in groups. I instructed some of the SSS members on using the artillery piece. They were quick to learn, and some were able to operate it with just a few minutes of instruction. Oyama also taught me the principles of snipping. My PzB 39 was an anti-tank rifle, not a sniper rifle, but the two had some very similar characteristics. I gave Oyama the honor of being the first person to fire it outside the Guild.

Oyama aimed the gun at a small birch tree 200 meters away. He pulled the trigger. The gun made a huge boom when it fired, almost as loud as the artillery piece. The tungsten round pieced right through the center of the tree trunk, leaving behind a ragged hole.

"It works!" Oyama gave me a high five. His tank top revealed a large bruise on his shoulder, but he did not seem to care much.

"There's definitely a lot of recoil," Oyama commented, rubbing the bruise, "But the firepower is great. And it's semi-automatic too?"

"Yeah," I replied, "Try it out." Oyama found another target and pressed the trigger three times in rapid succession. A large willow tree swayed and toppled to the ground.

"That's amazing," Oyama said, his voice trembling with excitement, "You should make one of these for me too, Pak."

I smiled. "It's a good gun," I replied, "But it can't replace your Remington 700. The effective firing range is only 300m. The bullet can actually travel more than a kilometer, but it's inaccurate and can't penetrate crap. I'm planning on making a newer version with a new scope and lengthened barrel." Those were always good ways of improving accuracy. Neither should take too long.

"It's your turn now," Oyama said, "Just watch out for the recoil. There's a lot of vertical recoil, but horizontal recoil is hardly noticeable. You should also pad the butt of the gun."

I pierced down the sights of the anti-tank rifle and aimed at another pine tree. I squeezed the trigger. There was a thunderous bang. The butt of the rifle kicked hard against my shoulder. When the smoke had cleared away, I could see a huge hole in the hole of the tree. I fired three other rounds in rapid succession. The tree swayed like a drunk man and then fell down to earth.

The smile on my face couldn't have been any bigger. All three of my weapons had been successfully tested. I was now ready for the fight against Angel.

After the drills concluded, the SSS got together for a hike up one of the mountains. We brought our cooking gear, enjoyed some of TK's North Carolinian barbeque, and watched the sunset.

"So the NPCs were right about us being on an island," I remarked, taking in the mountain air and scenic views. We could not see the entire inland, but it was still easy to tell that we were on one. We were surrounded by the ocean. The view was breath-taking. Everything was covered in a golden hue. There were small picturesque towns scattered throughout the island. The school seemed so small and so distant. My problems with Angel seemed so minuscule.

"See that over there, Pak?" Hinata said, pointing towards a landmass near our island, "That's Busan. Or at least that's what the NPCs tell us. I played a few times at the Sajik Stadium there. I really liked the city. Lots of good beaches there."

I looked at the landmass through a pair of binoculars. The seas were calm, and visibility was very good. I could even see the glass exteriors of the skyscrapers making up the Busan skyline. Everything seemed to be fine. No fires. No explosions, and no signs of fighting. The city seemed very peaceful.

I began to doubt the accuracy of the radio transmission from earlier that day. If the communists had really surrounded Ulsan, they probably would have also been within approximately forty kilometers of Busan. That was well within range of railway artillery. If the communists were really that close, then Busan would have probably been engulfed in flames. The radio transmission was either wrong or very misleading. It was possible that Ulsan was just experiencing a riot. It could have been something as simple as a confrontation some local unions and factory managers who decided to take refuge in the broadcasting center. Maybe the "seven of us" only referred to these managers or radio station workers, not the populace of the city. "Thousands of communists" was a good turnout for a demonstration, but such low numbers would have hardly sufficed when attacking a city like Ulsan. (AN: In Korean, "thousands" is "sucheon", and "tens of thousands" is a "suman". The announcer used "sucheon", which implies that the number of communists is lower than ten thousand.)

I shook my head. I had gotten all worked up over what was probably just a simple riot. My mind always had a way of making the most relaxing trips stressful. One derived strength from joy. Not from worry.

I closed my eyes, leaning against the trunk of an old tree. The sun cast an orange haze above the horizon, lighting up the sky as if lit by fire, yet the haze was so crisp and clear. The sun had its time to shine for the time it was allowed, and it now seemed to whisper "farewell" to the world as it sunk lower and lower in a lazy manner, almost as if it never wanted to leave.

But I knew that I too had to leave soon. The drive back to the school was going to be long. I leaned off the tree, walking down the dirt paths towards the parking lot. A cool breeze passed, making me stop in the middle of the field. It was almost like a human touch.

I looked at the sun again. The sun was almost as orange as the sky, like a ghost, almost. Yet even from behind the pine trees, it seemed to stare at me. The very thing that gave warmth, life, light and happiness to so many could just as easily cause utter destruction. That reminded me of my own creations.

The events of the day were going through my mind like a film reel as I navigated the path down the mountain. By the time I got down, the sun was gone, leaving behind a sea of dark, lonely clouds in a twilight sky. The heavens were beginning to litter the stars about, for it was their turn to shine.

The world was a constantly changing place. People and things change, just like the seasons, and that was alright. Like the sun, everyone had their time to shine. Soon, it was going to be my time to shine.

It was already dark by the time we finally got back to the Afterlife Academy. We were the last vehicle in the convoy to get back, thanks to a flat tire. It took me twenty minutes to get the tire replaced. As I drove the truck into the parking lot, I noticed a crowd of SSS members gathered in front of the dining hall. They were gesturing at me with flashlights. I jumped out of the truck and headed to the dining hall.

"Hey Pak," Yuri said, pointing to a figure lying on the ground, "Take a look at our future member."

I looked down. On the ground was a teenage boy dressed in the standard school uniform. The boy was sleeping on his back, with his arms and legs sprawled out on the concrete. He had smooth orange hair and a peaceful look on his face. He looked to be around my age.

"Strange…" Chaa said, scratching his chin, "I've seen this face somewhere. It was a really long time ago though. I can't really remember now."

"Was he in the military?" Yuri asked.

"No. Not the military. It must have been around 2000, when I was working in Tokyo. I can't remember the specifics though."

"It doesn't matter much anyway," Yuri shrugged, "Don't know if this one has amnesia though. I guess that we'll see when he wakes up."

"Should we carry him into the medical ward, Yurippe?" Hinata asked.

"No, just leave him here for now," Yuri replied, "I'm exhausted. Let's just set up…"

"Guys!" Oyama interrupted in a trembling voice, "I hate to be rude, but I see Angel."

"Where?" Everyone seemed to jump at once.

"Down there, by the truck," Oyama replied, pointing at the parking lot. I looked. It was Angel down there alright. The headlights of the truck were still on, illuminating the parking lot. Angel was slowly walking towards the box truck from the front. She didn't have her weapons deployed, but she was still alert. She paused by the Pak 36 canon and started looking around. We ducked beneath the concrete fence to avoid being spotted.

"You really should have turned off the lights, Pak." Sandra complained. I grumbled, cursing my luck. I was in too much of a hurry. I had left the lights on and the engine running. That must have attracted Angel's attention. The towed artillery piece didn't help either.

"Crap," I muttered, "The Pak 36 is still hitched. All my guns are still down there."

"Along with most of the Guild members' weapons," Sandra added. It was true. I should have brought along my MP 40 and P38 with me when I left the truck. I usually carried the pistol in my jacket, but I took that off when changing the tire. Yim and Sandra also left their weapons in the back of the cab. Yuri and most of the assault team still had their weapons, but the three of us was completely unarmed.

"Guild members," Yuri ordered, "Go back to your dorms and get some rest. The assault team can defend the new guy. Stay quiet."

We didn't need to be told twice. We crawled into the dining hall and then headed back to the dorms. I really wanted to save my weapons and all my hard work, but I couldn't do much with Angel around. At least I knew that all those weapons worked well. I could replicate most of them in just a few hours.

I took a shower and brushed my teeth. I still felt a bit overwhelmed by the day's events. A camping trip, a false distress signal from Ulsan, successful weapons tests, and a new member. It was just too much. I crashed onto my bed and went to sleep.

Jargon Dictionary:

Manchukuo:

Manchukuo was a Japanese puppet state in Northeastern China and Inner Mongolia that existed between 1932 and 1945. The de jure head of state was Puyi, the last Qing emperor, but government administration was under the strict control of the Japanese. The state was home to 30 million people, of which approximately 10 million were mobilized by the Kwangtun Army for slave labor. The residents also saw some of the worst war crimes of World War II, which were committed by the infamous Unit 731.

Staatliches Opereteentheater:

Now known as the Komische Oper Berlin, the Staatliches Opereteentheater was an opera house in Berlin. The theatre itself was built in 1891 and could house 2500 people. The theatre was nationalized and renamed in 1934 and served under the Nazi Strength through Joy program. Although badly damaged by Allied bombers during World War II, the theater was successfully repaired. It still operates today as a member of the Berlin Opera Foundation.

Flammenwerfer 41:

The flammenwerfer 41 became the standard flamethrower for the Wehrmacht in 1941. The flamethrower used a hydrogen torch to ignite a tar and petrol mixture, which was stored in separate 11.8L tanks. It had a range of 32 meters (105ft) and weighed 28.7kg (63lb).

Fritz Haber:

The winner of the Nobel Prize in Chemistry in 1918, Fritz Haber was a German chemist famous for his work in organic chemistry. The Haber-Bosch process he devised synthesizes ammonia from nitrogen and hydrogen, allowing for the large-scale production of fertilizers and explosives. His methods are used to fertilize half of the world's food supply. He is also dubbed the father of chemical warfare for this work in developing chemical weapons during World War I.

IG Farben:

IG Farben was a German chemical industry conglomerate that operated between 1925 and 1951. It was once the largest chemical company in the world. During World War II, the company collaborated closely with the Nazi government. The company owned the patent for Zyklon B, which was used in Holocaust gas chambers. After the war, many of the company's employees were tried for war crimes. Heinrich Hörlein, the head of chemical research, was tried and acquitted.

Nagoya:

The fourth largest city in Japan, the city of Nagoya serves as the capital of Aichi Prefecture and is home to one of Japan's major ports. The city is home to 9.1 million people. The city is considered the chief city in central Japan, and as a result, its baseball team is named the Chunichi Dragons, highlighting its origins in the "middle of Japan". The baseball team has had little success in playoffs, only winning 2 titles since 1947.

Yakuza:

The yakuza refers to organized criminal syndicates in Japan. These syndicates are notorious for their strict codes of conduct and discipline. The oyabun (family boss) is serves as the boss of the organization, while the kyodai (big brothers) keep watch over shatei (little brothers) and lead local operations.

Sajik Stadium:

The Busan Sajik Baseball Stadium is a large baseball stadium in the Dongnae-gu district of Busan. The stadium has a capacity of 27500 and is home to the Lotte Giants baseball team. The stadium is the second largest in Korea.

Closing:

Pak vs. T.K. Barbeque Contest: Korean vs. American

Pak: Done! Told you I'd finish first. Sandra, Yim, come taste this Chongjin-style Korean BBQ. It's an ancient formula passed down from many generations. Before coking, I marinate the meat with a mixture of soy sauce, sugar, sesame oil... and-wait! Why am I revealing the secret family formula? Just enjoy it.

Sandra: This reminds me of the kotlet schabowy we used to have in Poland. But the sauces give it a completely different taste. I've never had Korean BBQ before. Oh, how did I live back then?

Yim: Nomnomnomnomnomnomnom... So good. So juicy and tender-kah. Could use more spices though.

Pak: Here, take this bottle of gochujang. It has quite a kick.

Yim: Oh yeah. Here is the good stuff... Ahh, I'm sweating so much. But I can't stop eating-kah.

Pak: Beat that, Yankee.

T.K.: Come at me, bro. This North Carolina gourmet is much better than the North Korean crap you cook.

Pak: Care to put your money where your mouth is, T.K.? Let the girls judge.

T.K.: Sure. I shall prevail. Unlike you, I use every part of the hog 'cept the squeal. First, I marinate everything in my homemade North Carolina barbeque sauce. Then, I slow-cook them to tenderize the meat. You can't just rush through cooking, Pak.

Sandra: This is incredible. The meat just falls right off the bone.

Yim: So sweet and sour. I love it.

Pak + T.K.: So who wins?

Sandra and Yim: ...

AN: Please do not try any of the chemical reactions at home. They are based on actual chemical processes, and they are highly dangerous. I'm in no way responsible if you get hurt. In no way do I condone the use of chemical warfare.

This has been the longest chapter. I know that the story has been a bit slow, but it'll start to pick up soon. I hope that you liked the background stories I created for Fujimaki. The story is not canon.

Speaking of what's canon, I would just like to take this time to make some comments about this story and the newly released visual novel. Unfortunately, there are a number of inconsistences between this story and the visual novel. The canon visual novel states that the Afterlife School is surrounded by an indestructible wall and that food simply materializes each morning. It also states that most of the SSS members have been in the afterlife for decades. My story clearly contradicts these two facts, but it can't be helped. The plot of this story requires an entire world of dead spirits.

Also, I've been feeling that I haven't been giving enough attention to the canon characters, some of whom have had only one or two lines in the story. As such, I'm making some changes to my OC submission policy. Your character cannot be a pre-existing SSS member. They still can join the SSS after their arrival in the afterlife. They can also be already present in the school but not a part of the SSS. Please PM me if you need any clarification about this policy.

Thank you so much for waiting. Please leave a review and/or fav!