That was a mistake.
A clear mistake.
Why did I let myself get soft again?
As expected, it’s better not to have a companion.
I didn’t notice at all when he left.
I don’t care when or where Mr. Woo went.
The problem is that I didn’t notice him leaving at all.
It means I let my guard down.
If he had tried to kill me, I would’ve died without a chance.
Of course, I knew he wasn’t someone who would harm me.
I had confirmed that several times by showing openings, and he had plenty of chances besides last night if he wanted to.
Even so, that doesn’t excuse my lapse in vigilance.
The nightmares I started having after Kyung-soo who had been traveling with me died.
And the loosened screw in my head from traveling with Mr. Woo.
It’s a moment where I’m reminded once again of my true nature.
I’m better off alone.
That’s also why being a postman suits me better than being a hunter or a soldier.
The surest way to avoid seeing someone on your side die is to have no one on your side at all.
Rustle, rustle.
Just in case, I checked my belongings one by one.
Fortunately, nothing was stolen.
If there’s no loss, then it’s fine for now.
That’s enough reflection.
Excessive self-examination only drains mental energy.
I’m not about to burn calories from expensive food thinking something cliché like “I’ll do better next time.”
When I stepped out of the abandoned building, the sky was clear without a single cloud.
I hadn’t noticed at night, but now I could see that AAA was close enough to be visible with the naked eye.
It would take about ten minutes in a straight line to get there, and I could clearly make out its landmark.
Multiple anti-aircraft guns installed along the wall.
And those guns gave the settlement its name.
An abbreviation of the English term for anti-aircraft guns.
Anti Aircraft A……
Anyway, AAA.
What’s installed on top of the wall are modified Oerlikon anti-aircraft guns that were used by the military in the old world.
They were apparently stolen from the army along with tens of thousands of dedicated shells.
To begin with, the ones who built this settlement were soldiers.
A group of them deserted while fully armed.
Anti-aircraft guns were weapons used in the old world to shoot down relics like airplanes.
Which means they’ve now lost their original purpose.
Airplanes are machines that burn through fuel like crazy without being worth the cost.
Back then, they say oil would come out just by digging the ground, so I guess that’s how they kept those things flying.
Now, if you dig, all you find are bones.
But there’s no rule saying a weapon meant for taking down planes can’t be used to kill people.
They modified the rotation range of the guns and lined them all around the settlement.
The effect was undeniable.
In the end, even the government gave up on suppressing them.
Of course, if the government forces were willing to commit to a war of attrition, they could take it down.
But the losses would outweigh the gains.
Still, the moment they get on the government’s bad side, they’d be marked for extermination.
That’s the insurance I’m counting on.
Even a lowly servant can bring the master running if you mess with them wrong.
And the postman’s master is the state.
“Halt.”
A loud command to stop blared through a loudspeaker.
A guard standing on the wall had spotted me.
As always, all I had to do was hold my ID and raise both hands high.
Honestly, as long as the postman’s armband and bag are clean and visible, that’s enough.
They can be recognized from a distance.
“A postman?”
“As you can see.”
There were five guards standing on the wall.
Judging by the size of the settlement, there must be at least 300 people inside.
Above their heads, I could see a heavy, thick metal roof meant to block air raids.
There are probably dozens of manually operated openings in the center of that roof.
They’d open them during the day to let sunlight into the settlement.
“Air raid warning or mail?”
The guard in military uniform spoke in a blunt tone.
It must have been years since they deserted, yet they’re still wearing those uniforms.
Do they still think they’re soldiers?
“If it were an air raid warning, do you think I’d come all the way here just to tell you?”
If an air raid wiped them out, the government would be more than happy.
A free win without lifting a finger.
“Fair point.”
“All I have to do is deliver a single letter, and I’m done.”
“I see. Then let me introduce what I do.”
Bzzzz—
A heavy mechanical sound rang out.
The anti-aircraft guns on the wall slowly turned their barrels toward me.
One of them didn’t move at all. Maybe it was broken, since no one was stationed there.
“We do not receive mail, errand boy. Leave immediately.”
“Every last one of you’s got something against postmen, huh?”
“Using fancy words doesn’t change anything.”
Just as expected.
This is how settlements that have chosen isolation usually respond.
They neither send nor receive any mail.
They’re self-sufficient, so they have no intention of maintaining contact that might invite trouble.
“Errand boy, this is your final warning. We will open fire.”
Alright, then. Time to push this a bit.
“Hmm, go ahead.”
“…What’s with that attitude? It’d be wiser to give up your performance than your life.”
Only the guard in the center kept talking.
The others stood still at their posts without moving an inch.
He’s probably the highest-ranking one here.
“You’ve got it wrong. Who says giving up easily is the smart move? In a world like this, the only ones who survived are the ones who refused to break.”
“You need to know when to give up depending on the situation. That’s why you’re stuck as an errand boy your whole life.”
“Oh, I see. Is that why you gave up on military life and deserted?”
It’s a shame I can’t clearly see his expression from this distance.
I’m sure it’s twisted right now.
“…Leave. This is truly your last warning.”
“Really?”
“It is.”
They sure love their “last warning”.
“For real?”
“For real.”
“Seriously?”
“…Seriously. Your attitude is extremely disrespectful.”
There’s no way they’d open fire that easily.
Waste shells just to deal with a harmless postman?
If they handled things like that, their commander would tear into them.
There’s no place left that manufactures shells for those anti-aircraft guns anymore.
Makes sense. There are no airplanes in this era.
They may still have a massive stockpile of shells they smuggled out when they deserted, but even so, they’re in a position where they have to conserve them as much as possible.
Which means that, most of the time, those anti-aircraft guns are basically decorations meant to intimidate.
If they really wanted to threaten someone’s life, they’d use something smaller.
For example—
“This really is your last warning.”
Click.
Yeah, that.
“Well, well, a standard-issue rifle. Got ammo for it?”
“Don’t need much. One bullet is enough for someone like you.”
So one shot is all it takes. Hardly a waste of ammunition.
Now I can feel a bit of real intent.
Still, there’s no real reason for them to kill a postman.
He won’t pull the trigger unless he absolutely has to.
Of course, even if you understand all that logically, it’s only human to flinch when a gun is pointed at you.
That’s why threats like this work.
And most of the time, they do.
People who scare that easily end up losing out in this world.
Just like Mr. Kim, who couldn’t bring himself to use the core in time.
But I’m different.
“Now that feels like a real threat. You could’ve done that properly from the start.”
“…What are you relying on to act like that?”
I’ve pushed him enough. Time for the next step.
“Well then, I don’t want to die, so I’ll just leave the letter here.”
“I said we don’t accept mail. Are you deaf?”
“No, you are. I’m just leaving it on the ground here. You don’t know what ‘leaving it behind’ means?”
“Cut the crap.”
He closed one eye and took careful aim.
“This is outside your precious settlement, isn’t it? What I leave behind here is none of your business.”
“Pointless tricks.”
“What, you think it’s a booby trap? You can see it’s just a thin letter. There’s no room for something like a bomb.”
“It could contain a virus.”
“You’ve been reading too many novels.”
“I don’t like novels.”
“That’s a bit harsh.”
“….…?”
In the brief moment his guard dropped, I quickly pulled the letter out from my coat.
“Anyway, I’m just going to leave it here.”
“Fuck, are you going to put that away or not?”
“Shut it. I’m leaving it, so deal with it yourselves.”
I tossed the letter aside carelessly.
Then, before it even hit the ground, I turned around—
“You little bastard….”
Finally, I got a reaction.
“You think I wouldn’t see through your trick? You’re going to toss it there half-assed, go back to headquarters, and report that it was properly delivered, aren’t you?”
“Who knows?”
“Obviously. It’s not hard to size you up just by the way you talk.”
That’s exactly what I’d been aiming for with all the sarcasm.
A delinquent postman.
“You little errand boy, there’s no way it’ll count as a completed delivery without proof you handed it over. You’re planning to fake that proof, aren’t you?”
Really fell right into it.
“Man, you’re loud. I’m already doing what you want and getting lost, so why do you care? Whatever I tell headquarters is none of your business.”
For a delivery to be recognized as complete, proof is absolutely required.
Proof that the recipient leaves to indicate they received the mail from the postman.
It doesn’t have to be a physical item.
Sometimes it’s a simple signature, other times it’s a code phrase, or even a reply to the letter itself. There are all kinds of ways to leave proof.
As long as it’s something the sender can trust, anything works.
“You errand boy….”
“Anyway, I’m heading out, so handle it yourselves.”
“…Wait a second.”
That’s right.
There’s no way you can just let me walk away.
“It’s because of corrupt officials like you that the country’s in this state. Got that?”
“Oh, now you’re calling me a public official? Wow, I’ve moved up in the world.”
“If you pull something like that and get caught, you’ll lose your job as a postman.”
“Then I just won’t get caught.”
“You think it’s that easy?”
“You going to report me? You, a deserter?”
The guard clenched his teeth.
“…Just stay right there for a moment.”
After giving a few hand signals to the other four guards, he disappeared below the wall.
The four who received the order immediately aimed their guns at me, but I didn’t feel particularly tense.
One of those signals had clearly been “do not fire”.
A moment later, I began to hear rattling noises from beyond the small door set into the wall.
Sounds like they’re getting ready to come out.
Things are going smoothly.
The reason he came out wasn’t because he couldn’t stand a corrupt postman padding his record.
It was purely for their own benefit.
If I went back to headquarters and falsely reported that I’d successfully delivered the mail, it would become a headache for them.
Word would spread that deliveries to AAA are possible.
And once that happens, postmen would start coming regularly.
This kind of hassle would keep happening.
There are quite a few people who want to send mail to AAA.
Close connections, like family members living elsewhere.
To be honest, the people here are probably curious about their families too.
But if they start receiving news from their families one by one, their declaration of no contact loses its meaning.
That’s why the people of AAA are holding back and refusing all communication.
But the families outside think differently.
The moment they hear that delivery to AAA is possible, they’ll be ready to send letters at any time.
So if I return with news that I succeeded in making a delivery?
Mail would come pouring in like a flood.
In the end, the key lies in the hands of a delinquent postman willing to file false reports.
Creak.
As the heavy steel door opened, he stepped out, fully on guard.
Good. Getting him out here was the first step. When the distance closes, people tend to open up.
Judging by the way he limped on one leg, it looked like he had an injury that hadn’t fully healed.
“You’re a real pain… Fine. I’ll accept the mail, but on one condition.”
“Let me guess. Report to headquarters that the delivery failed. In return, you’ll compensate me enough so I don’t lose out on my performance. Right?”
So-called “illegal delivery”.
“…And make sure you keep the sender’s mouth shut. If you understand, raise both hands above your head and take ten steps back. Stay away from the letter.”
I raised both hands.
But backing away wasn’t an option.
“Putting distance between us is a bit of a problem.”
“Don’t try anything clever. You think I came out here without any safeguards? This area is packed with hidden bunker entrances and traps we’ve set up.”
“You’ve prepared quite thoroughly. But the delivery condition is direct handoff to the recipient. It’d be a problem if you touched the letter.”
“Directly? Who’s the recipient?”
I told him the name written on the envelope.
A name anyone would recognize as female.
And then—
Shake, shake.
He let out a deep sigh and shook his head.
At the same time, he raised his index finger and waved it side to side.
A silent signal of “no”.
At that moment, my pupils widened.
But it wasn’t because of his negative reaction.
The peculiar movement he showed when he shook his head and moved his finger.
That distinct sense of rhythm.
It felt familiar.
Hip-hop? Is this guy into old-world culture or something?
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