The Abandoned

Calvin's fury eased slightly, but his gaze remained sharp as a sword, piercing straight through Shawn's back.

"Then why did you want to run?"

Shawn's throat bobbed. Both hands gripped Calvin's arm tightly as he stared directly at him.

"This isn't running away. This is precisely not running away," Shawn said in a lowered but more forceful voice. "What kind of life did we live in Hekla? Like bedbugs, like rats—anything but human. We would do anything, had to do anything, just to fill our stomachs. Other than Mom, no one cared whether we lived or died. Everyone was busy surviving today. No one had the strength to think about how to get through tomorrow.

"Do you remember when we first arrived in Tanyi? What kind of lives did people here live? There were cake shops on the streets, beautiful clothes in the shop windows, people drinking outside every night. Even the homeless ate like fat pigs, lazing around in corners...

"Do you remember? Back then, we swore that one day we'd buy a big house in Tanyi. It had to be two stories tall, with a six-hundred-square-meter backyard and a huge cellar. We'd raise three big dogs in the yard and store barrel after barrel of fine liquor in the cellar... As long as we worked here until we were twenty-five—"

"Assuming this place isn't overrun by the conglomerates," Calvin said in a low voice.

"Right. Wasn't that exactly our mission? That was what I thought too." Shawn gave a laugh. "Until I looked up the gender casualty ratio for Quicksilver Needles. Do you know what it was? Sixteen to one... Karl, don't you think that's absurd?"

Calvin said nothing.

Shawn continued, "I didn't understand. Even if men were slightly weaker in endurance, we were obviously stronger in strength and explosive power. So I tried to find out why the death rate among male Quicksilver Needles remained so high.

"At first, I guessed it might have something to do with bearing the next generation, so women were always better protected. But I quickly discovered that relying on childbirth to gain new Quicksilver Needles was far too inefficient—male Quicksilver Needles' talent was barely inherited, and female Quicksilver Needles only had around a one-in-thirty chance of giving birth to a talented child.

"Even if you gathered every female Quicksilver Needle together and made them keep getting pregnant and giving birth, they still couldn't match the efficiency of going directly into the wasteland to find newcomers. Besides, these women couldn't be imprisoned anyway.

"Then I thought maybe it was because of mission assignments. Maybe all the high-risk missions far from the Habitable Zone were assigned to men. So I compared forty-one high-risk extermination missions with severe losses over the past century. In the end, I found that the problem wasn't assignment at all. It was the effect blood loss had on Bullet Time.

"With blood loss reaching ten percent over a short period, the percentages of men and women who could continue maintaining Bullet Time were ninety-three percent and ninety-seven percent respectively. At thirty percent, those figures dropped to forty-six percent and eighty-nine percent. Once blood loss exceeded forty percent, men faced shock or immediate death, while forty-three percent of women could still maintain Bullet Time.

"As for female Quicksilver Needles, they only completely lost their combat ability after blood loss exceeded fifty percent—women possessed an almost overwhelming natural advantage in resisting blood loss."

Though Shawn had tried his best to control his volume, he was still extremely agitated.

"That's the fundamental reason male casualty rates are so high—the more dangerous and difficult the battle, the longer it lasts. And the longer a battle lasts, the worse it is for us!"

"So what?"

Shawn looked at him. "Karl, have you ever considered that people like us were born to be tools in the Habitable Zone?"

"...Heh."

"Do you remember Introduction to Natural History last semester?" Shawn began softly. "In any sexually reproducing population, most males can be discarded, because only the number of females firmly monopolizes the reproduction of a population. As long as a small handful of males survive, they can seed the entire population.

"And people like us were born as trash. We were born unprotected, sacrifices destined to be sent up to die. It was the same in Hekla, and it's the same here."

Shawn looked deeply into Calvin's eyes.

"I've thought it through. No person, no thing, will ever suck blood from me. I'm only myself, and I'll live only according to my own will. Only then can I be worthy of our survival. Only then will Mom be happy in heaven—"

Calvin shook off Shawn's arm with some disgust.

"Karl!" Seeing Calvin turn to leave, Shawn hurried after him. "You still don't understand me? Don't think about going into battle. No one here is truly looking out for us. Quicksilver Needles are treating us like expendable supplies. We should find a way to move into logistics, or even join the government army in the Habitable Zone—only in those places can we break free from this habit of being casually discarded. Only then can we climb upward, go higher, even—"

"Get lost!"

Calvin shouted furiously and shoved Shawn aside.

Shawn immediately lost his balance and fell sitting on the floor. He had never seen Calvin this enraged before, and he froze where he was.

Calvin took a deep breath and turned to walk in the opposite direction. Shawn suddenly felt panicked. Just as he hesitated over what to say, Calvin stopped.

"Karl...?" Shawn called softly. "Karl, we—"

"Without land, we are nothing."

Leaving those words behind, Calvin strode away. He heard Shawn shouting his name behind him, but he kept his eyes forward and continued walking until he disappeared at the end of the corridor.

Then he slipped a hand into his pocket and pressed pause on the recorder.

That evening, Calvin came alone to Valenti's office and knocked softly on the door.

"Come in." Valenti turned around. Seeing Calvin push open the door with a gloomy expression, she was somewhat surprised—when she had suggested talking with Calvin about Shawn a few days ago, he had refused, saying that he needed some time.

Now that Calvin had come to her on his own, perhaps things had taken a turn.

Valenti smiled and gestured for Calvin to sit. "Is there something you need help with?"

"...I want to talk about Shawn," Calvin said quietly. "About him and Hesta."

"Mhm."

"Yesterday, Ms. Moly suggested that I record my conversation with Shawn so that the situation could be reconstructed as accurately as possible," Calvin said, frowning. "But—"

"She did that?" Valenti was startled. "That isn't reasonable."

Calvin raised his eyes and looked at Valenti. "You also think that isn't reasonable?"

"Yes, it isn't reasonable." Valenti's expression turned serious. "I'll have a proper talk with Molly. Those methods should not be part of what is required of you."

"...I had the recorder ready," Calvin said softly. "But when Shawn and I got onto these topics, I forgot to turn it on, so nothing was recorded. But if you're willing to hear what I think, I can tell you now."

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