3.The Little Prince in the Ossuary

Only after we'd gone through a series of drills, tactical movements, rudimentary hand signals, and mental training did the supply mission begin. A number of people waved goodbye to the vehicles as they departed, though we don't know what they were thinking. If they had a high rank in a leadership skill, such as Insight or Perception, they would have read it.

When I tried to think about the skill, the control AI responded to my subconscious and displayed help.

"AI Help (Insight Level 4): You have extra experience points that are not currently being used. Experience is spent on learning skills, and a player's base stats are also improved by learning skills. It takes a lot of experience to learn a skill you have no prior knowledge of. Simply checking to see if a particular skill exists can also cost experience. If you have enough prior knowledge and experience with a skill, it takes less experience to learn it. Knowledge can be gained from books or from NPCs you know well. For other skills you've learned in previous playthroughs, the amount of experience required to relearn them decreases with the number of times you've learned them. In some cases, it may be beneficial to learn a skill that requires no prior knowledge at all, even if it means spending a lot of experience. The choice is yours."

You know the drill.

The boy opened his skill list. Skills he didn't know existed didn't even show up. He could type in certain keywords to see if the relevant skills existed, but that would cost him experience points, as the controller had warned him. And then it would take several times as much experience to get the skill again. This is called the "penalty for ignorance - Unknown penalty".

For example, a player can gain a high level of skill in mechanical engineering without any consequences. However, it costs a lot of experience. You might wonder if it's worth the loss, but the upside is that you can get a hard-to-find specialty right away if you need it.

There are exceptions for some higher-level skills that require specific skill sets as prerequisites.

Another thing that players have an advantage over NPCs is a kind of passing down concept.

The "Unknown Penalty" was not applied to skills that had been gained at least once in the previous round. On the contrary, if a skill has been learned, a differential "Talent advantage" is applied based on the number of times it has been learned, meaning that it can be re-learned with less experience. However, this benefit only applies to the same skill up to the rank it was mastered once. This means that if you learned the skill up to rank 6 in the previous round, you won't get any benefit from rank 7.

This Talent Advantage, along with the added benefit of earning achievements, was the only benefit for multiple-time players.

The boy prioritized his experience toward combat skills. These were essential skills, and he'd practiced them a lot, so he was able to get a decent amount of rank up with less experience. Of course, that also meant that there were a lot of worlds that he had dead-ended before this round.

Rank 9 "Melee Combat", Rank 10 "Melee Weapon Proficiency", Rank 8 "Personalized Weapon Proficiency".

You're traveling in a vehicle, and the American soldier in charge, Corporal Elliott, is scribbling furiously in a green-covered notebook. It's a diary, apparently, because he's written the date at the top. When he realizes you're staring at him, he quickly covers it with his hand, embarrassed.

"I don't know much about other countries' manners, but it doesn't look good peeping like that."

"Excuse me, stop being so nonchalant."

"...Well, not much."

The corporal closed the notebook. Supplies, I think.

Out of the corner of my eye, a feature notification flashed. This is the Time Acceleration feature. If you want to get to a certain point or shorten the time until a mission starts, you can use the acceleration feature to speed up the time in VR.

What happens in between is determined by the controlling AI's contextual computation, and if there is anything the player needs to know, it is provided in the form of a journal. Time acceleration is another way of saying journaled progression.

However, it would be foolish to use time acceleration in the early game until the mid to late game. The benefits of small events and relationships were too great to ignore. Sure enough, someone spoke to me even though I was standing still.

"Hey, kid. What's your name?"

The soldier at the other table asks. His skin color was mestizo. Even in the racially melting pot that is the United States, there were several ethnicities that stood out, especially in the U.S. military, which is highly ethnically diverse. The names on the name tags are not typical Anglo-American either.

"Guilherme"

I could recognize the spelling, but when I tried to pronounce it, all I got was a holographic broken string. It was a name in a language the player didn't recognize.

"It's winter."

"Crawl?"

"It's Korean. It means 'Winter'."

"For some reason, the pronunciation is similar to my name."

The boy asked, pointing to his name tag.

"How do I read it?"

The soldier finds it amusing. As he inquires into the mind, he activates his Rank 4 Insight.

"It's curious that you're the only one who seems unperturbed when everyone else is intimidated or nervous. (72% chance of error / Requires higher ranks of Insight and Perception, as well as Constitution to reduce the chance of error)."

Indeed, it is. An inference that can be made within the bounds of common sense. The soldier replied.

"You can call me Guillemie."

"Private Guillemie."

"Just call me Guilemy."

His fellow soldiers laughed out loud. It was because the translation of the Korean honorific 'nim' had been changed to Sir. I'm not making fun of it, I'm just grumbling about it.

In fact, we didn't have much time to talk. It was only 5 kilometers away, so it wasn't long before I could see the outline of the town. It's just a distant view, but it's eerie. Agitation spread among the refugee volunteers. Private Guillemie let out a stern sigh.

"That's spooky. I felt bad about getting locked out, and now this."

A lock-down is a ban on going out and staying out. It's usually a punishment for military offenses. However, in this case, all soldiers were basically locked out of the country.

The southbound traffic followed a road that left the national highway. The gas station was south of town, so the convoy drove as if it was going to pass through town.

You see a gas station sign. He could make out the trademark of the famous oil company, Chevron, along with two curved blue and red bars. Corporal Elliott pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the gun carrier. It was a metal frame that held a gun and was locked.

"You've been trained, but you can't run away, because if you're spotted by aerial reconnaissance while traveling east, you'll be killed without warning, and there's no chance you're going to make it across the cordon safely now that the all-clear has been given. You'll have to stay under my control. In some cases, you will be summarily executed on the spot, do you understand?"

The refugees nodded, their faces dark.

They heard a convoy of vehicles moving, and several infected strains emerged from the village. The soldier sitting in the turret of the lead vehicle, a Humvee, immediately opened fire. Not the turret-mounted heavy machine gun, but a personalized rifle. It had a silencer on it.

Off- A low, dragging cry sent the mutants scurrying away. Their running form was not normal, but their speed was frighteningly fast. They had been shot, and they were still trying to get up and keep running. Pain and bleeding were not enough to stop them from moving like normal humans.

"It's dangerous, take a seat, we'll deal with it in front of you."

Corporal Elliott scolded, but the refugees were having none of it. The other soldier across from him, Private Blake, grumbled.

"I heard that the San Miguel area was still introduced early and has very little variation, but somehow it's a welcome sight upon arrival."

"It must have come in from another part of the world."

Private Guillemie replied bluntly, then pointed his rifle over the railing and peered out.

Then the line of cars stopped. As the scary-looking tankers crawled into the gas station, weapons were distributed to the refugees: guns, bayonets, and jungle knives. Despite the fact that they picked the sane ones, there was a palpable sense of caution lest someone go on a rampage. The boys also received weapons. The swords were sharpened with an electric sharpener and were surprisingly sharp. I've seen sharpeners in action in passing, and the sparks they produce are on par with toy fireworks.

"Get off!"

At a low shout, the refugees, led by the soldiers, exited the vehicles. As arranged in advance, the soldiers formed a perimeter guard, and only the soldier in charge of escorting the refugees went out to check them. Meanwhile, panicked voices could be heard from the gas station.

"Damn, it's a card gas pump and it won't unlock, what am I going to do with this?"

A sergeant stuck his hand under his helmet and scratched his head as if in pain. A handful of dandruff landed on his shoulder, visible at a good distance. Apparently he wasn't getting enough shampoo or other supplies. Or just plain lazy.

"We'll move as scheduled, and if it's safe to do so, we'll call a truck to clear any obstacles on the road, and if it's not, we'll return with supplies in the duffel bags you've each been issued. We have extra duffel bags, so you should be able to make it back and forth as best you can by dark. We'll evaluate how enthusiastic you are about this mission and reward you on a sliding scale, so please do your best, everyone."

The refugees stared and nodded.

"Then let's go. We'll take the rear. Please take the lead in order."

The soldiers fell back. This was agreed upon in advance by the base commander and refugee representatives. There were complaints from the refugees when this was announced, as they felt that they could not afford to lose U.S. troops in a situation where replenishment was not easy. The current volunteers were willing to accept these conditions.

#Public service announcement, first half of 2040, KBS

A run-down neighborhood, a decaying estuary. The screen cuts to an old man picking up scrap paper. His tattered, frayed sleeves flutter in the fall breeze. The wind is sandy. Crudely stitched together. Stained with salt and grease. It looks like it hasn't been washed in a long time. A passing schoolgirl makes a face and holds her nose. Foul odor. The old man is embarrassed. A lonely thought, turned into words, appears on the screen.

"But if you want to sell this and eat a meal...."

The composition changes. Deep focus. Beveled. A top-down view. The old man struggles to climb up as a small figure. It's not easy. His diminutive size is emphasized by the fact that he is carrying a waste paper bag. The sun is setting behind his back. Symbolizing the twilight of life. The lonely atmosphere and shabby surroundings suggest a life of poverty and hardship. I hope that older viewers will be able to relate to this scene. A female narrator speaks in an affectionate voice.

"86 years old. Mr. Park makes a living by picking up waste paper. He receives a monthly pension of 630,000 won...but it's not enough. The government's estimate of the minimum living cost for a single person in 2040 is 1,645,053 won. The cost of living rises every year, and the funded national pension has been flat for years. Life for the elderly in South Korea is simply too hard."

The old man has just made it up the hill. A close-up. Beads of sweat on his forehead. A few wrinkles. Another pan. The junk shop owner sorts through the waste paper. Not all paper has the same value. An old man waits impatiently next to him. The owner quickly calculates 13,325 won. The pouch hanging next to the rear car contains a small amount of more valuable trash, such as aluminum cans and rusted iron. After weighing and valuing them, he adds them to his share of the waste paper and comes up with a little over 20,000 won. The kind-hearted owner simply settles for 20,000 won. The old man is very grateful.

The narrator's voice comes back on.

"Park Woo-chul is one of the lucky ones. There are only a handful of junk shops in Seoul that are authorized by the waste law, and many of them are closing down because they don't make enough money, so most of the elderly can't sell their waste paper even if they wanted to. They have to rely on their meager pensions to survive."

Now, after a late meal, the old man lies down in his small room with few crayfish. It's early for sleep, but he has nothing to do. He tries to turn on the old TV, but it's broken and won't work. I try to sleep, but it's not easy. The room is too small to stretch out, and the old house is cold in the fall breeze. I curl up under the covers. The old man's thoughts flow across the screen.

"Save the briquettes for winter...."

It's a matter of survival, not frugality, or you won't survive.

"What is Sooyoung doing now...."

An old man thinks about his daughter. His eyes widen, and we see a reflection of the daughter he raised. The narrator explains in a voice that is still affectionate, but it's a little too affectionate for comfort.

"Everyone in Korea knows the feeling of parents who don't want to lean on their children, even if they have children. It's a harsh world, and it's hard to live alone without your parents being a burden. We don't want to be a burden, but is that the right thing to do?"

The screen changes again. We see technicians toiling away, building facilities, and white-coated scientists and doctors discussing. The mood is cheerful, a dramatic contrast to the previous footage. As the scientists and doctors look on, a human brain floats on the screen. Its bioelectrical signals are displayed in bright lights.

One after another, I see people smiling happily in all sorts of different landscapes.

A young woman with her feet in a stream, soaking in the summer sun. The subtitle says 92-year-old Ahn Mi-young. A young man walks in the breeze in a field of spring flowers. The subtitle reads, "88-year-old Max Yang. Many other elderly people are shown enjoying the unreal season, the impossibility of youth and unlimited happiness.

"Convert your national pension into a posthumous insurance policy. It's time to exist, not live. Any Korean citizen over the age of 65 can abandon the body, gain freedom of mind, and unlimited happiness. Korea's posthumous insurance guarantees its citizens life after death."

The screen now shows a cross-cut of Park's sad face and the happy faces of countless people in virtual reality.

"You don't have to insist on living in the real world, which leads to anxiety and pain every day. Don't be afraid to have a lobotomy. The probability of a failed surgery is lower than the probability of an airplane crashing. Our world-recognized life support and nervous system connectors will keep your brain alive and well beyond your predetermined lifespan. If you're not familiar with virtual reality, ask for a preview, so you can experience the world you'll be living in before you decide. Our virtual reality experience is open to the public 24/7."

The experience facility is neat and tidy. A group of elderly people put on the connectors and experience virtual reality. Cool. Wonderful. The elderly people smile with satisfaction. Park Woo-chul is in the middle of them. His wrinkles have disappeared and he looks younger, walking through a flower garden on a sunny spring day.

"Posthumous insurance is creating a happy Korea for everyone."

Toward the end of the commercial, the American flag flies across the screen.

"The campaign is supported by the Public Service Announcement Council, the National Pension Service, and the Korea Postal Insurance Corporation."