The conversation was awkward and halting, but I grasped the gist of it.
“So, you were a police officer?”
Given his current state, it was hard to fathom.
He had once held a position responsible for maintaining order in the city.
As a newcomer, he had shown an odd fixation on his duties.
However, it struck me as absurd. “What could a cop possibly do in a situation like this?”
Even the highly regarded South Korean military—one of the best in the world—had faced total annihilation outside our unit. A mere rookie police officer had no chance of making a difference.
Yet, despite feeling powerless, he harbored a sense of responsibility for the collapse of the city’s order. This responsibility led him to reject the food offered by the group he had joined, and instead, he resorted to consuming monsters.
Simply put, it was a foolish endeavor.
“Look at what it’s led to.”
No matter how noble one’s intentions might be, the consequences of his actions were dire.
Eventually, he became aware of his monstrous transformation and left the group led by Chang-soo, hiding away in a place devoid of people, subsisting off the monsters he hunted. It was during this time, it seems, that war broke out among the plunderers.
“They were criminals. It was my duty to subdue them,” he insisted.
In the submerged city, food was scarce. Those groups that managed to gather substantial supplies fared better, while many others struggled. In dire conditions, choices became stark.
Two factions emerged: those who sought to pillage and those who aimed to protect.
Despite his fading rationality, he bore witness to that conflict.
“The plunderers have all been dealt with by you,” I noted.
He fell silent for a moment, his emotional tumult evident as he processed my words. “To subdue them? Isn’t it the police’s duty to apprehend criminals and bring them to justice?”
“That’s laughable to be honest. The law was non-existent at that point. I admit to being somewhat excessive during those encounters…”
“Quite an adaptable mindset you have,” I replied, crossing my arms and scrutinizing him.
“The people you fought were simply trying to survive, much like you,” I added flatly.
His silence told me that my words had struck a chord.
Guilty of such actions himself, he remained quiet. Still, I had my own regrets when it came to fighting plunderers, remnants of the world’s fallen principles.
“How did it come to this?” he reflected aloud, a hint of shame in his tone.
“If the food supplies hadn’t dwindled, none of this would have happened.”
“Then…” he started, looking thoughtful.
“The atmosphere changed over time. There were whispers that another war would arise among humans.”
“What?” I asked, intrigued.
“The people anticipated it, saying that another struggle would break out among the survivors.”
“Oh, I see. That’s why you sent a help request to us.”
The first conflict had revolved around food—a hopefully limited resource—but once supplies ran low, a second war seemed likely. This would center around the few places that still offered a chance to obtain food.
To avoid such chaos, he chose to gamble instead.
I couldn’t help but observe the creature that had once been a police officer. His scaled body was a chilling reminder of the transformation he had undergone.
But something caught my eye. “You have bare skin on your right arm,” I pointed out.
“….”
“Let me guess, you blocked the waterfall there. That man you sent for help, huh?”
“Perhaps humans still exist beyond the barriers, but anything was better than remaining idle.”
While he had committed abhorrent acts by devouring human beings, it was ultimately his plea for help that saved many lives in this city. Had he not taken that gamble, another impossible conflict among humans would have erupted.
Eventually, I found myself scratching my head over the duality of his actions. So much guilt was tied to death, yet he had also preserved lives through his choices.
This one individual had wrought significant pain and yet offered considerable aid. I pondered how to judge him.
“Why am I even trying to assess his moral standing?”
After all, I’m not a judge.
My true purpose was to resolve my own uncertainties regarding my profession.
“We seem to have strayed from the subject,” I remarked.
“Your transformation into this creature was a direct result of consuming humans and monsters, correct?”
“It’s not the act of consuming that matters so much…”
“Right,” I stated, ready to assert my perspective.
But he interjected. “What’s vital is the method. The manner in which I ingested them was flawed…”
Suddenly, the implication of his words hit me. “You bastard!”
“Indeed,” he grinned, seemingly amused. “You’re looking for answers, and that is precisely what I’m about to share.”
His matter-of-fact delivery left me wide-eyed. “Do you know something?”
“When I could no longer resist my hunger, a message appeared on my status screen.”
“Your status screen?”
His words resonated deeply within me. I understood that the messages displayed there could offer insight into my own perceptions of my culinary profession.