Chapter 5 : The Bet

I had no idea what had set him off this time.
Hannah fell silent, staring at him blankly.
Amidst the roar of the pub, filled with fervent cheering, only their corner was quiet.

“Why? You’re usually not interested in other people’s business. You said so yourself earlier.”

“After digging around a bit, it turns out to be a topic I’m interested in by coincidence. So I’m telling you to take your hands off it and leave it to me.”

As neither side backed down an inch, the shop owner approached and placed a bottle of malt whiskey and two glasses of lager beer on a tray.

“……”

It was the same order they always got when the three of them came.
Ian was gone, but his drink was here.
I suddenly felt like bursting into laughter.
I thought this scene was like a well-crafted comedy.
Even though it was natural for the owner not to know about Ian’s death since they hadn’t been here in years, even though I should have been grateful that he recognized them after so long and brought their usual order.
My breathing slowed and then stopped, as if facing a dead-end wall.
Come to think of it, the seat I was in was originally Ian’s.
As I stared blankly at the bubbles rising to the surface of the beer placed in the empty seat, Zakar spat out a few words in a rough, local dialect.

I could see the owner scurrying to turn back and get the beer glass again.
I knew what he’d said without even hearing it.
He must have said he was dead.
That he couldn’t come because he was dead.

“It’s fine. I’ll drink it.”

Hannah spoke reflexively and, as if to make a point, raised the 500cc beer glass to her lips.
Tilting it to the very end, she gulped it all down without leaving a single drop, then slammed the glass down on the table with a thud.
The owner, who had been standing there indecisively, quickly took the empty glass away.
The cold path down her throat felt refreshing.
She took a deep breath.

“Fine, if I lose, I’ll delete the email and forget everything. Now let’s go play a round. Since I’ve had a drink.”

She smiled as if she needed a handicap.
Zakar, all traces of amusement gone, leaned back in his chair and observed her silently, as if watching an interesting creature.
As she stood up first and approached the empty dartboard, she heard a presence behind her, along with the light flick of a quarter.
She looked back at the hand that must have held the coin and said.

“Heads.”

It was heads.

“I’m first. Zero One? Cricket? Or just a simple Count-Up?”

“Top and Bottom.”

He said the name of the game Ian had created.
When the two of them started scoring too easily, Ian had created a new rule to make the game a little more interesting, dividing the dartboard into exact upper and lower sections.
They would divide the territory, and if one invaded the other’s territory, they would lose double the points.
Hannah briefly gauged the target and then spoke.

“I’ll take the top. Any objections?”

“No, I like doing it from the bottom too.”

The low voice sounded somewhat suggestive, and she paused and turned around.
Zakar, standing closer than she thought, leaned leisurely against the railing with a ‘what’s the problem?’ look on his face.
Just his presence behind her brought that night vividly back to life.
The sound of his breath, his body heat, the suffocating feeling of being pressed down, the fierce beating of her heart.
Without a word, she turned to the front, rolled a yellow dart in her hand, and then gripped it tightly.
She threw it hard toward the target, and the first dart flew and embedded itself in the double bull’s-eye.
Once, twice, three times, all in the double bull.
She heard a whistle from a customer who happened to look this way.

“Your turn.”

As she stepped back, Zakar lowered the arm he had been resting on the railing and stepped forward.
He also hit three consecutive bull’s-eyes.
As always, it would eventually become a contest of who made the first mistake.
They would probably exchange turns at least ten more boring times.
I don’t like dirty games, but I know now that in this unfair world, you sometimes have to get a little dirty.
Hannah, having finished her third turn, assessed the situation and casually brought something up.

“Come to think of it, you left your lighter that day.”

Zakar, who had been pulling back the dart almost by inertia, paused for a fraction of a second.

“I know it’s nothing to you, but seeing the expensive gold plating on it, I had a bad impulse to take it.”

Hearing that, he moved his arm, and the dart unerringly buried itself in the center.
He answered without looking at her.

“It has my family crest engraved on it, and you’re trying to take it?”

“That’s why I’m telling you honestly.”

“Give it to me, then.”

“I didn’t bring it. Come and get it yourself.”

He finally turned his eyes and looked straight at her.
She didn’t avoid his gaze.
Between his long fingers, a red dart twitched for a second, then two.
Finally, he stretched his lips as if amused and turned his gaze away.

“You’re using cheap tricks.”

“Cheap tricks work well on the type who only thinks about that 24/7.”

“Someone said we’re not the type to see each other privately anyway.”

“Ah, that’s because you weren’t ‘my type’. As you know, I like types like Major Müller.”

When she made a pointed joke with words she’d heard three days ago, Zakar let out a snort and threw a dart carelessly.
The red arrow slightly invaded her territory and stuck in the upper section.
‘Got him.’
She let out a breath of victory and was reaching for a dart.

“That’s a shame. I like your type.”

A low voice fell from above her head.
Her slightly stiffened fingers moved a little, and as she looked up, she met his piercing eyes.
‘He’s using the same trick.’
I know, but.
It was a moment when they were silently taking each other in.
The TV screen, which was in the middle of the first half of the game, seemed to freeze, and then suddenly, an announcer’s face appeared with static.
Weeeeeee.
It was then that a siren, loud enough to tear the eardrums, began to fill the entire pub.

“Tentacle-type Abaddon has appeared in the upper Rain River, Sector 17. Tentacle-type Abaddon has appeared in the upper Rain River, Sector 17. Please evacuate to the nearest shelter immediately.”

In an instant, the atmosphere in the pub changed.
Startled and drunk people jumped to their feet in a panic, knocking over chairs.

“Tentacle-type Abaddon has appeared in the upper Rain River, Sector 17. Tentacle-type Abaddon has appeared in the upper Rain River, Sector 17. Please evacuate to the nearest shelter immediately.”

‘We just dealt with one a few days ago, and another one appears in just three days?’
Even though they said the frequency had increased…

“Did you bring your car?”

But the ingrained reflex was faster than the question.
Hannah dropped whatever bills she could grab onto the dart table and asked the person next to her.
Having had even one beer, she couldn’t ride her motorcycle.

“Go through the back door.”

Zakar pushed open the back door, where a CLOSED sign was dangling, over her shoulder, and a black Range Rover at the end of the parking lot flashed its lights.
Hannah naturally got into the passenger seat of the black car and first checked her pistol and emitter.
Zakar started the engine and said curtly.

“Given the distance, we’ll definitely arrive before the unit.”

“I know.”

The car entered the road and immediately accelerated.
While Zakar communicated with the unit on the car radio, Hannah stared intently at the pitch-black street.
It’s night.
It’s their time.
At night, without sunlight, they crawl around as tentacles without wearing human bodies.
Like roundworms vomited up by a medicated dog, like earthworms that have lost their way onto the pavement after a rain.

“At this rate, 100 people are nowhere near enough. In the last month, the total number of casualties in the unit was forty.”

She chewed her lip anxiously, then muttered in a sudden burst of anger.
Zakar, gripping the steering wheel, responded with a blank face.

“They’re going to be significantly increasing the unit’s personnel soon anyway.”

“Says who?”

“Major Müller didn’t say anything?”

Ah, that man hadn’t given a single hint.
He just acted like an adult, going on about pride and whatnot.
It was ridiculous to say she hadn’t heard anything, so she clenched her teeth.
Before long, something caught her sharp eyes.
The moment she pulled her upper body up, Zakar must have seen the same thing, as he changed lanes toward the riverbank.
Hannah gasped as she saw a tentacle, at least three meters thick, wrapping itself around a bridge pier.
‘They didn’t say it was this big.’
This is a major disaster.
The bridge can’t support that weight.
Watching the countless headlights crossing the bridge, Hannah made a quick decision and loaded her pistol.

“Lower the window.”

“It’s 85 meters. Are you confident?”

“Don’t you know the motto, ‘If it’s not possible, make it possible’?”

Zakar twisted his lips and lowered the window for her.
Zhiiii.
As the outside opened up, the wind blew fiercely, and she narrowed her eyes.
The light from the streetlamps streaked by, glinting on his black hair.
Whether her feelings for him were good or bad, there was something people used to say back in their academy days when she and Zakar were a team.
Perfect synchronization.
An unbeatable partnership.
She aimed the gleaming muzzle of her gun through the lowering window.
There was no time to complain about the conditions.
She held her breath and focused.
Until the noise disappeared, leaving only the giant form climbing the bridge pillar and herself, hoping this could somehow call out to him.
She pulled the trigger, and then again in succession.
Without even knowing if she had hit, she fired continuously, relying on absolute instinct until the magazine was empty.
The wind whipped her hair around like crazy, and the gunshots echoed across the eerie river.
The thing climbing the bridge stopped for a moment.
And the next moment, Hannah’s lips parted.

“It’s coming.”