WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS

Translator/Editor: Ryuu
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ The Little Prince of the Ossuary

00014 <-- The Little Prince of the Ossuary -->

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#Intermission, Charm

Human beauty is less natural than you might think. Just one day without washing can significantly reduce a person's charm. When the end of the world looms and most infrastructure is paralyzed, how much of our own beauty can we maintain?

Therefore, in ‘Days after Apocalypse,’ the charm rating is influenced by the community's sanitation facilities and the availability of hygiene and beauty products. Even a character with a charm of 100 will see it reduced to below 10 without sanitation facilities. While this limitation can be overcome through the use of consumable hygiene products, even with adequate facilities and supplies, it's all for naught if the community's stability is low. In dangerous situations, many prefer to hide their beauty, as it often makes them a target for plundering. The talent to wield beauty as a weapon is rare.

If you find these restrictions inconvenient, you can overcome them by purchasing the DLC ‘Deadly Charm.’ You'll receive system corrections that ignore realistic constraints, with no drawbacks. With charm providing a boost to interpersonal interactions and leadership from the start, navigating the realistic virtual reality environment offered by ‘Days after Apocalypse’ will be much smoother.

Ah, of course, you might be worried about balance, but there's nothing we can do about that. Our company is long gone. We're doing this for the money. So, please buy our shitty DLC. Thank you.

#Journal, Page 39, Camp Roberts

Although they've been there before, there should still be plenty of supplies and food left in San Miguel. I reckon they can expect to harvest there at least twice more, similar to the first time. But that's just my rough guess.

After that, we'll have to head further south to Paso Robles. With a pre-Morgellons outbreak population of 30,000, it's a large city likely filled with mutants.

Thus, deciding the order of departure was crucial. The first group to leave would get the easier tasks.

Captain Markert took the first slot. As the senior company commander, he's said to have close ties with the battalion commander and staff officers. Lieutenant Capston is last. I heard he volunteered his group for the toughest role. Bad news for me, but I was prepared.

Sergeant Elliot, who was bedridden, shared a surprising piece of information. Beyond the official reasons, there's another motive for accepting refugee volunteers. Many soldiers lost families when San Francisco and Sacramento fell, leaving them in an unstable mental state, unfit for operations. Accepting refugee volunteers was inevitable.

Indeed. The National Guard consists of locals, so it's no surprise there are many grieving soldiers. The camp's leadership must be extremely anxious, unable to trust even their own soldiers amidst the tense atmosphere among the refugees.

Elliot, when asked if he was okay, mentioned he hadn't heard from his parents, but it didn't bother him as they were never close. His cheerful demeanor hid a story I couldn't have guessed. I found it hard to process. But when I candidly shared this, he laughed it off and reassured me, which was somewhat comforting.

#High Risk, High Return (1), Paso Robles

From a streamer's perspective, training volunteers was a dull process. He considered skipping it with time acceleration but decided against it. If the community leader participates in the training, the members' growth accelerates, a benefit not gained through accelerated journals. It's not a huge gain, but too valuable to waste early on.

This also scales with ability. Gyeoul could aim for more than average improvements in skills like shooting or hand-to-hand combat.

Lieutenant Capston looked worried. Among the people Gyeoul brought, half couldn't be counted on for combat. Regardless of age or gender, their nutritional and hygiene statuses were poor. Pitiful. Those he brought were also wary, taking considerable time to convince the lieutenant.

With a limited number of vehicles in the camp, only one supply team could go out at a time. Although more vehicles were left at the camp, they were reserved for emergencies. Lieutenant Capston and Charlie Company didn't return until four days after the additional missions began.

The distance from Camp Roberts to Paso Robles, via road, is only about 17 kilometers. However, the road was littered with obstacles. Abandoned vehicles and blockades had to be cleared. The journey took 3 hours and 40 minutes.

Thankfully, the route was relatively clear of mutants. Aerial reconnaissance showed the road was surprisingly clean.

"There it is. Paso Robles."

Private Guilherme, already drenched in sweat, pointed south. After clearing a fallen trailer, the city's outline was just within reach. "Board! Board!" The call for the refugee volunteers to get on the trucks was heard twice. After checking the personnel, the convoy set off again.

Turning right onto a side road off Highway 101 led straight to the destination. The city, with a population of 30,000, couldn't be searched in one go. Charlie Company's operation area was north of 24th Street, covering less than one-twentieth of the total area.

The convoy stopped at the entrance of 24th Street. Four gas station signs were visible on both sides of the road: Shell, Chevron, BP, and ARCO, in that order from the south. Chevron and BP had the best locations. Like in San Miguel, there were diners and inns next to the gas stations.

The arrangement of ten refugee volunteers to two guards remained the same. Private Latchman joined in place of the injured Sergeant Elliot, a black man, making racism highly unlikely. As a sergeant in the US Army, he likely had ample experience.

Except for his excessive use of "Fuck" in conversation, he seemed decent. Among those from Lieutenant Capston's company met so far, none had serious character flaws. Perhaps the cleanliness of the leadership reflects on the subordinates.

A McDonald's was located just above the gas station. It was the closest and most decent-looking restaurant, so the refugee volunteers were clamoring to go. They were only concerned with fulfilling their quotas. Lieutenant Capston cut them off firmly.

"Our first objective is the processed meat store located 1 kilometer north of here. It dealt in large quantities of sausages and canned hams. Securing just that place should fulfill our total quota. Haven't we all completed table-top exercises on this already? It would be troublesome to change plans now."

However, the complaints didn't stop. The soldiers managing them looked troubled, while Gyeoul's group remained silent. Since their leader kept quiet, none of them stepped forward. Their patience and reminders during recruitment ensured they were cautious around the boy.

Clearing the road of parked vehicles was hard labor, especially since many were wrecked beyond movement. Moreover, wearing gas masks made it even more challenging due to restricted breathing. Indeed, wearing a gas mask applies a slight negative adjustment.

Despite the quiet surroundings, encountering only three mutants on the way to the meat store was fortunate. Unlike in Korea, where buildings are densely packed, the open environment allowed for early detection and elimination of threats. The mutants posed little challenge against the group's excessive firepower.

Being cautious even in the face of insignificant danger consumed a lot of time.

Interestingly, the destination had few mutants. Both the military and volunteers were overjoyed at the sight of trucks filled with canned goods.

It seemed like the mission could be completed without incident. That's what everyone thought until an unexpected event occurred. The lead vehicle, a Humvee, came to a sudden halt, causing the entire column to stop. It wasn't a mechanical failure but something more serious.

"Commander, there's a distress signal on commercial radio channel 9."

A soldier inside the vehicle called out to Capston. Civilian radios struggle with reception beyond a few hundred meters, but the Humvee's radio (RT-1523F) could communicate from Paso Robles back to Camp Roberts, barring any terrain or interference issues.

Channel 9 is an emergency frequency, using the 91.5 MHz band. It's the same channel used by the protagonist to call the fire department in the action movie Die Hard.

All work ceased immediately, and the team went on high alert. Lieutenant Capston took the radio himself. The refugee volunteers sneak peeks, their expressions a mix of anxiety and dissatisfaction. They were clearly worried about being sent on a rescue mission.

The transmission was choppy. Capston hit the windshield with his fist in frustration, his face turning red. He took a moment to compose himself before stepping out of the vehicle to call over the group's leaders, including company officers and senior soldiers. He spread a map on the hood of the car and explained the situation, clearly urgent for the typically stoic lieutenant.

"At this point here, Daniel Lewis Middle School, there's a radio message that teachers and students are trapped. We don't know the exact size or situation, but we can't ignore a distress call. Before deciding how to act, I'm open to questions and suggestions."

Sergeant Latchman raised his hand and, with the commander's permission, spoke up.

"Is communication not possible?"

"Unfortunately, it’s not. Our radio's output should reach them with room to spare... but for some reason, they can't hear us. They might be turning the radio on and off to save battery."

The vehicle-mounted radio, with its extended antenna, has a wide reception range and up to 50 watts of output. In contrast, civilian radios have shorter antennas, narrower ranges, and typically 0.5 to 3 watts of output. Low battery affects reception quality.

Sergeant Dave Ceres raised his hand next.

"To be honest, the location isn't ideal. We'd have to go deep into the city's east side, and with our current manpower, we can't clear the roads, nor is it safe to proceed. Moreover, we don't know how many are in need of rescue... If we act rashly, we might not only fail our mission but also face annihilation. I believe we should complete our current mission, return, and then come back with reinforcements."

"Fuck you, Ceres."

Sergeant Pierce cursed out of the blue.

"Think about it. Those kids, probably still wet behind the ears, are trembling in fear. And you want to head back without even checking? Bullshit! Don't they deserve at least a recon to assess the situation? If it's too much and we can't rescue them, then fuck, the recon team should stay and protect them until reinforcements arrive!"

"Sir, I'm sorry, but... If even half our company was here, I wouldn't say this. But we have, including drivers, barely a platoon's worth of soldiers, and the rest are unwilling refugee volunteers. I can't trust them. Will anyone here volunteer for such a dangerous mission? According to the aerial recon photos provided, there are quite a few mutants roaming the city center. Moreover, sunset is soon. You know mutants become more active after dark, right?"

Pierce repeated his curse, though not directed at anyone in particular. At this point, Gyeoul hesitated. The promise he made to the group... to ensure everyone's safe return, held him back. Otherwise, he would have volunteered, considering the high rewards of sudden missions.

As the discussion stalled, Lieutenant Capston attempted to contact headquarters. They had cleared the road from the camp to the city entrance. Reinforcements could arrive in 30 minutes. It would be even better with support from another company or aerial support like helicopters.

However, Camp Roberts responded negatively. Due to the tense atmosphere, they couldn't send additional troops, and government quarantine directives prohibited using helicopters for transport in infected areas. To make matters worse, they ordered a full retreat, citing the risk of troop losses. Capston protested, to no avail. The battalion operations officer on the other end was adamant. The debate continued, but with sunset approaching, there was no time to waste. Capston ended the communication, visibly upset.

'It figures.'

Gyeoul had expected as much. The special missions generated by the controlling AI's situational computation weren't meant to resolve naturally.

Pierce grumbled.

"Hey, Commander. You're not seriously thinking of heading back, are you?"

"Sergeant, I understand your feelings, but the orders..."

"In Nazi Germany, they also said they were just following orders."

Capston, unsettled by the sergeant's response, calmly pointed at the refugee volunteers.

"Orders aside, these folks volunteered for a supply mission. They're civilians. If they must take on additional risks for another purpose, it's somewhat a breach of contract."

"At a time like this..."

"Right now, we're in an emergency. In the face of humanity's potential extinction, individual soldiers and officers can't make moral judgments. If the government had collapsed, it might be different, but as long as the command structure exists... Sergeant, if you continue this, I'll have no choice but to treat it as insubordination."

The sergeant was dumbfounded, but the lieutenant remained firm. Respecting the sergeant's service was one thing, but command authority ultimately rests with the company commander. And given the situation, although not respected as much, the lieutenant was right: the refugees, originally civilians, should be protected by the military and not forced into dangerous missions.

To Gyeoul, this wasn't just simple stubbornness. The camp currently relies on the assistance of refugee volunteers for external activities. What if casualties occur due to the lieutenant's unilateral actions? Could they expect enough volunteers for the next mission? That would only lead to mutual destruction. As the number of volunteers decreases, so does the replenished supplies, worsening the refugees' situation and potentially inciting them to more radical thoughts, posing a threat to the military. Even with heavy armament, facing hordes of determined refugees could lead to a severe crisis.

Hadn't the camp already mentioned difficulties in sending additional troops due to the camp's atmosphere? Further deterioration would be problematic. The lieutenant's judgment was logical.

"Damn it! Fine. So, if there are volunteers among them, it's not a problem, is that what you're saying?"

The sergeant, raising both hands in frustration and anger, was quite intimidating. His large uniform stretched tight over his muscular frame. For the relatively smaller Asians, it was enough to be intimidating. The onlookers shrank back. There was no need to ask; their avoidance was answer enough. The increasingly angry sergeant shouted.

"Damn it all! Is this how it's going to be? Are Asians so small-bodied that even their courage is lacking? Can't you risk your lives for justice?"

"That's racist. And don't make us out to be the bad guys. Like Ceres said, it's a no-win situation."

Murmurs of agreement flowed out, starting a cascade of responses. Ceres, the initial speaker, wasn't pleased but couldn't retract his words.

"I have a five-year-old son waiting for me. I understand the situation, but I can't take the risk."

"We've only received a day or two of training. You can't treat us the same as yourselves."

"Honestly, you're using us as shields. If the accompanying soldiers don't return, there's no compensation. Depending on the situation, there might even be punishment. This openly says soldiers' lives are more valuable. If it's dangerous, let us die instead. That's fine. After all, we're doing this to survive. But beyond that is unacceptable."

The last comment weighed heavily, the truth of it was undeniable. And that was all the time Gyeoul needed to make up his mind.

"I'll go."

"What?"

Pierce looked back, not out of dislike but disbelief. Gyeoul continued.

"However, if the others I brought don't wish to go, please let them return. I promised to ensure their safe return."

"You'd go alone if no one else will?"

"Yes."

"Hah, I heard you were a man of your word, but it's true."

Pierce laughed. Even with half his face covered by a gas mask, his eyes revealed his amusement. Suddenly, everything quieted down. From the refugees' perspective, this wasn't a pleasant situation. While everyone was avoiding risk, a young kid stepped up, embarrassing them and their organizations. Glances were thrown, but it was unnecessary. The disapproval was evident. Dislikes for Gyeoul popped up among various alerts, but amidst them, a few approval notifications from the military appeared.

One of them, Company Commander Robert Capston, wore a mix of gratitude and concern.

"I'm really sorry for putting you in this position. If it weren't for the orders..."

"Don't blame yourself."

After earning a bit of favor with a gentle reply, Gyeoul requested ample ammunition, food, emergency medical supplies, and a radio.

"We might need the ammunition, obviously, but we also can't ignore the possibility that the trapped students have been starving or injured, so we need food and medical supplies. And without a means of communication, we'd be in trouble."

"That much is obvious."

Not really. Even with few people, sending refugees outside the camp's control was risky. The camp leadership could find fault. But it was a burden the lieutenant chose to bear.

Eventually, they packed two duffel bags with ammo, canned goods, antibiotics, bandages, and more. They borrowed a backpack-style radio (AN/PRC-119). Complicated to use, but they only needed one frequency. After learning how to power it on and set the frequency, Gyeoul saluted. He might not have an official rank, but as a de facto volunteer, the gesture felt appropriate.

"See you tomorrow. We need to hurry to make it before sunset."

"I regret putting you through this dangerous task. Godspeed. May you be blessed."

The company commander and the soldiers who had taken a liking to Gyeoul offered brief farewells. Private Guilherme even embraced him.

"Stay safe. We'll come to get you soon."

"Guilherme, take care not to end up like Elliot. Don't rush."

"Look at this guy talking!"

The private stopped mid-sentence and fired his gun over Gyeoul's head. The suppressor was on, but the sound was far from quiet, especially so close to his scalp. Gyeoul wasn't startled. Thanks to his high-grade ‘Survival Instinct,’ he sensed the approach from behind. To be precise, he didn't just sense it; the direction and approximate distance of the approach appeared as a hologram in his field of vision, complete with error margins.

Turning around, several bodies lay scattered on the faded road, their decomposed skins vivid even from a distance. They were mutants.

"Let's go."

Gyeoul's calm declaration seemed to impress the three men and women following him. He gained a slight increase in their favor.

Under the slanting afternoon sun, four shadows stretched across the asphalt.

Footnotes:

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