Chapter 87: Communication Successful

Lin Yan planted a boot on the creature’s shoulder and pulled his nodachi free. Steel scraped against bone, making both men below flinch. He restored his previous Traits, replacing Badminton Ace and Qilin Arm, then walked down to the jeep.

The driver sat rigid behind the wheel. The soldier in the back tracked the dripping blade until Lin Yan stopped beside him, then hastily looked up.

Lin Yan raised his faceplate.

The driver’s mouth opened. The soldier stared at the young face beneath the helmet, then glanced toward the gutted corpse.

"...Human?"

"Need some directions." Lin Yan gestured with his scabbard. "Any airfields nearby? Somewhere I can catch a plane?"

They stared at him. Wind snapped a strip of fabric caught on the broken windshield.

Then words poured out of the soldier. He set his rifle aside to gesture, pointing between Lin Yan and the corpse.

Lin Yan nodded slowly.

He hadn’t understood a word.

Encouraged, the soldier leaned forward. "Are you with a special unit? From the north? Or the Research Institute?"

His eyes dropped to Lin Yan’s blood-soaked arm.

"A graft?"

The driver caught his arm. "Shut up."

"But he just did that with his bare—"

"I saw."

He gave Lin Yan a strained smile and offered another incomprehensible explanation.

Judging by their expressions and repeated glances at his arm, they wanted to know who he was.

Lin Yan tapped his chest. "Human." He pointed at the corpse. "Monster."

Then he drew a hand across his throat.

The soldier brightened, slapping his uniform and patting the driver.

"Friendly! Right, you’re friendly!"

There. Progress.

Lin Yan sheathed his sword, held one hand flat, and swept it forward and upward.

"Plane."

Both men looked skyward. He repeated the gesture.

"A plane. Flies."

The soldier grabbed the driver’s shoulder. "Air raid?"

The driver ducked and searched the clouds. Their movements were so well coordinated that Lin Yan suspected they’d had plenty of practice.

"...Easy."

He waved away the alarm, pointed to himself, and mimed takeoff again. The soldier hesitated, then spread his arms.

"You... can fly?"

Lin Yan watched him give two tentative flaps.

"If I could fucking fly, why would I be standing here doing this?"

His tone needed no translation. The soldier lowered his arms and sat straight.

At last, the driver seemed to understand. He pointed into the distance and brought one hand down onto his other palm, miming a landing.

"Yes! Take me there!"

But the driver shook his head, gesturing toward the airfield before pointing emphatically elsewhere. The soldier joined in, their voices growing urgent.

Lin Yan looked between them.

"You’re going the other way?"

Apparently so.

The soldier hauled a battered military radio from the floor, turned a knob, and offered the headphones. Shrill static and an intermittent whine filled Lin Yan’s ears.

"Broken?"

The soldier shook his head. He pointed back along their route, outlined an enormous head with both hands, then indicated the radio.

"Big head?"

An eager nod. The soldier crossed his hands above the radio, but Lin Yan still frowned.

After a few words from the driver, the soldier climbed out, picked up some shrapnel, and crouched in the sand.

He drew a huge head surrounded by rings. Inside them went buildings, a plane, and an antenna, which he crossed out. A long line led beyond the rings to another cluster of buildings.

He tapped himself, pointed to the driver, and traced their route outward.

Lin Yan crouched beside him.

"You’re going to get help?"

The soldier looked blank. Lin Yan took the shrapnel, drew a radio outside the rings, and pointed to the one in the jeep.

"Yes!" The soldier nodded hard enough to shake his helmet. "We can contact them there! We have to get word back!"

Now it made sense. Some creature was interfering with communications. These two had been trying to get beyond its range when that walking slab of muscle caught up with them.

Lin Yan tapped the plane.

"The airfield’s here?"

The driver nodded, then pointed grimly at the oversized head.

"They’ve lost contact too. We have to notify the rear and wait for them to organize a force—"

Lin Yan couldn’t follow the words, but the problem seemed clear enough.

Planes over there. Monster in the way.

He stood, leaving the shrapnel sticking out of the sand.

"Take me to it. I’ll kill it."

The soldier insisted on pointing toward their escape route. Lin Yan tapped his chest, pointed to the monster, and made another throat-cutting gesture. Then he tapped the plane.

Kill monster. Catch plane.

The soldier’s hand stopped.

The driver looked from the drawing to Lin Yan, then spread all ten fingers. He repeated the gesture and jabbed around the head.

"A whole pack! It has a whole pack with it! That one chasing us was just—"

Lin Yan followed his gesture toward the corpse.

"There are more?"

The driver nodded emphatically.

Lin Yan grinned. "Then we’d better get moving."

The soldiers exchanged a look. The one beside him studied the corpse on the slope, its torn-out spine lying beside it, then leaned toward the driver and murmured something.

The driver’s grip tightened around the wheel. After a moment, he gathered the map and mess tin from the passenger seat and handed them back.

"Now we’re getting somewhere."

Lin Yan folded himself into the jeep and settled his sheathed sword beside his shoulder. He pointed back along their tracks.

"Let’s go meet Big Head."

The driver exchanged a final few words with the soldier and pressed the accelerator. As the jeep turned, Lin Yan leaned back and worked his aching shoulder.

That had gone rather well.

A message appeared.

[Temporary language translation is available for the duration of this mission to facilitate communication with the local civilization. Enable?]

His smile froze.

Fuck. You couldn’t have mentioned that earlier? I’ve been waving my arms around like an idiot!

[You were actively engaged in communication. Both parties successfully established cooperation through gestures and drawings, so no interruption was made.]

Lin Yan remembered himself squatting in the sand, drawing a radio. He glanced back at the soldier, who still held the shrapnel.

For a moment, he had nothing to say.

...Turn it on. Just turn it on.

[Temporary language translation enabled.]

The soldiers’ voices became intelligible beneath the engine noise.

"We’ll take him over and let him see for himself," the driver said. "He saved our lives. We can at least give him a ride."

The soldier hugged the radio and glanced at Lin Yan.

"You think he’ll change his mind?"

"You showed him how many there were, right?"

"I held up all ten fingers, and he was still smiling..."

"How many?" Lin Yan asked.

The soldier’s mouth stayed open. The driver glanced sharply at Lin Yan, his foot lifting off the accelerator and making the jeep lurch.

"Eyes on the road."

The driver corrected the wheel, then stole another look.

"You... you speak our language?"

"Just learned."

Lin Yan pointed in the direction they had indicated.

"About that plane. If I kill this thing, can you get me one?"