WeTried Translations

Translator: Coughing Baby

Editor: Coughing Baby

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

Chapter 215: The End of April (2)

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At the same time, Gyeoul judged that the Department of Defense had made the best decision.

Sending civilians into a military operation carried serious risks, but they also had to consider how many lives it could save. With this decision, thousands, tens of thousands, perhaps even more, might survive. Of course, that meant they would have to keep a firm grip on control.

There was no way the Department of Defense had acted on its own. The President seemed to have half given up on his political future. The presidential election coming in November worried Gyeoul. Americans driven into panic by this disaster might make an extreme choice.

"How bad is the situation?"

At Gyeoul's question, the old man's smile faded for the first time.

"I don't know the details myself. But according to the rumors, hundreds of thousands are waiting for rescue and supplies in the Sierra Nevada, and hundreds of thousands more in the Central Valley. Our pilots are being deployed heavily in that direction too. The truth is, by regulation, even if there are no zombie bastards nearby, we're not allowed to land casually. Sometimes the survivors are more dangerous than the plague."

"I suppose they would be. Everyone must have lost their heads by now."

The Sierra Nevada ran up to 100 kilometers wide from east to west. Its highest peaks rose over 4,000 meters above sea level, making it rugged terrain. If hundreds of thousands of U.S. troops and even more mutants were mixed together there, the chaos would be beyond description.

The fact that Gyeoul's temporary platoon members were somehow keeping calm was impressive in itself.

"Familiar story. It was the same in those damned jungles of Vietnam. Plenty of comrades didn't care even when I shouted that we couldn't take any more aboard. Once, a platoon leader with wild eyes put a gun to my head and threatened me. But I can't bring myself to call that man worthless."

The old man laughed softly as he told the story. He had been an aviator who fought alongside allies on the ground and pushed through enemy fire in the sky. For a person who had lived a hard life, frequent laughter could also be an effort to protect the heart.

"Is everyone in the Lieutenant's group here?"

"No. We only came out to reconnoiter because aircraft pass through this area periodically. Our main force has 170 officers and soldiers, plus 11 others, for a total of 181."

"Ha! That's the largest survivor group I've found! Where are they now?"

"We've set up a base south of Point Reyes Station."

"Where was that again? Let me see the map for a moment!"

The old man gestured toward the cockpit. He meant for Gyeoul to point it out on the navigation device. Once Luke learned where the Company garrison was, he was surprised by how close it was to the coastline.

"At that distance, the Navy could send out a rescue team, couldn't they? If I go back and report that the Lieutenant is alive, even the White House will be turned upside down. A helicopter formation will probably fly over before sunset. That airspace is off-limits, but I suspect they'll ignore that, whatever the reason is. Ha ha!"

At the veteran's words, Gyeoul gave a bitter smile.

"I'm not so sure. I think that will probably be difficult."

"Hmm?"

"Have you ever felt the limits of search and rescue from the air?"

"Ah. I see. You're saying they'll need troops who can move on the ground?"

"Very likely. I suspect we're the only organized unit in this area still maintaining anything like a chain of command. Headquarters would have reason to want us."

Gyeoul nodded, but that was not all.

The White House would want to use the survival of a war hero as a political event. In Gyeoul's opinion, simply coming back alive would not be enough. With the lives of countless troops still uncertain, they could hardly say, Lieutenant Han Gyeoul has returned alive! Let us all celebrate!

A noble death might even be better if they needed to redirect public opinion after Yang Yongbin Shangjiang's nuclear attack had inflamed it. Of course, surviving to the end was best for everyone. Even if they did not evacuate him right away, Gyeoul figured supply support would be given top priority.

As long as he did not know the exact mood east of the blockade line, this was still only guesswork. But if the objective was the continued survival of the worldview, that kind of development would not be bad either.

For the mutants, breaking through the blockade line would be their top priority, so a large force would not come back this way. In a sense, this could be called activity behind the front line. As long as they had enough ammunition, it was worth attempting.

The old soldier nodded.

"That makes sense. The heads of those high-up gentlemen work very differently from people like us. Leaving that aside, let's decide on rendezvous points. I almost forgot something important."

A rendezvous point meant a place where they would meet again. The primary one would be the Company base in Olema, but they needed to designate second and third locations in case they had to abandon the base. Gyeoul, who knew the surrounding terrain, pointed out three or four places in succession. He also entered the coordinates into his tactical PDA. As he did, he asked,

"Was there anything unusual nearby? Other survivors, or..."

"Nothing in particular today."

Even as they spoke, the static from the radio kept growing louder. Since the thing used bioelectric waves like radar, it seemed to be approaching the airspace where the plane had disappeared. As a result, the questions and answers exchanged between the old and young war heroes grew shorter and shorter. Food? We make do by hunting. Oh. That sort of thing.

Luke wrote down as much of Baker Company's current state as he could in a small notebook. It would be a great help to the blockade line command's judgment and reports. He also recorded the supplies needed in the next drop.

If there was one special request, it was heavy machine gun ammunition. If the Humvee's firepower was restored, their tactical options would expand dramatically. Besides that, they requested grenades, anti-tank rockets, and the like.

Gyeoul, who had been estimating the distance to the jamming source with 「Combat Sense」 and 「Crisis Detection」, advised the old man.

"I think you should be going soon. It seems like it still has a long way to go before it enters visual range, but it would be safer to leave some margin. You'll need time to shake it off too. There's no guarantee there's only one Trickster. Even if it isn't necessarily 「the Silent One」, there may be one staying quiet."

It was a mutant cunning enough to understand the concept of radio silence.

"Now that's truly regrettable."

The old soldier grumbled and took out a booklet tucked beside the pilot seat. Unexpectedly, there were several comic books. He held them out to Gyeoul.

"This is..."

"If it's not rude, could I ask you to sign them? I was keeping these to give my grandson when I got back to Houston, and today I just happened to meet the hero himself, didn't I?"

He guffawed as he said it. An ordinary civilian pilot would have been panicking at the growing static, but this was the composure and experience of a veteran.

The comic books were not official publications. After getting Luke's permission, Gyeoul quickly skimmed through them. Even after passing through many apocalypses, he had never opened a comic book where he was the hero.

The protagonist only had Han Gyeoul's appearance and name. From the first page, with its intense colors, blood and entrails flew everywhere, and about half the pages were plastered with loud sound effects and profanity. The boy Gyeoul in the drawings roared.

「Ha ha! The plague calls for quarantine!」

「Today I beat a Grumble to death! Tomorrow I'll tear a Trickster to pieces! A-men!」

「Ahh, ghouls! Ghouls! Why only ghouls? Are there no bastards more satisfying to kill?」

「Beta Grumble! You XXing coward who deserves to be XXed! You pissed yourself when you saw me!」

「At the San Miguel intersection, I burned ten thousand of them!」

「You half-dead trash of Santa Maria! I'll finish killing you! With this gun blessed by the Lord!」

"..."

His actions so far had been exaggerated or distorted to a grotesque degree.

Members of the Gyeoul Alliance appeared too. For some reason, Yura was a warrior wearing a tiger skin and a tank top, Min Wan-ki was an assassin who used daggers, and Han-byul, already called Miss Triggerhappy or the Trigger Witch even back at Fort Roberts, was not even human-shaped.

'Why are the eyes glowing?'

Even this absurd comic reflected the U.S. government's policy. After all, using refugees as manpower resources was the current administration's policy.

"I don't think this will be very good for your grandson's education."

When Gyeoul quickly signed and returned them, Luke looked deeply satisfied.

"Better to laugh at fear than be devoured by fear that only grows in the dark! A Texas man needs spirit! Anyway, thank you! My grandson is an ardent fan of yours, Lieutenant!"

Before leaving, the old soldier asked to shake his hand. His tight grip was hot and strong.

"Though our eras may be different, we are comrades! May God's blessing be with you! Stay safe! For yourself! For the people who cherish you! And for this great country!"

It was not only Gyeoul. He gave thanks and encouragement to each of the soldiers maintaining watch. He also complained with a smile that the radio was too noisy with static.

The light aircraft had been running the whole time. It made a put-put-puttering sound, and then the propeller produced fierce thrust. It rolled down the slope it had climbed during landing, accelerated for about three hundred meters, and lifted off lightly. Despite the uneven ground, it only tilted briefly right after takeoff.

After circling once, the aircraft turned in an odd direction. It was trying to deceive the Trickster.

"We should go back by a side road too. Those things will know what it means when a plane lands."

The soldiers accepted Gyeoul's order with faces that looked somehow sad and full of regret.

Still, the ammunition crates loaded on the truck were a tremendous hope. Over the past few days, each platoon had gone out rescuing survivors, and in the process, they had used up most of the live ammunition they had left. Thanks to that, Captain Langford's stress-induced hair loss had progressed rapidly. He had lost weight, and his wrinkles had deepened. He did not seem to have much appetite, and he was often seen pressing his upper stomach as if it hurt. Such was the sorrow of a person made responsible for more than a hundred lives.

After they ran so low on live ammunition that one magazine had to be passed around according to the duty rotation, the soldiers too had complained of severe insomnia and indigestion. As a bonus, the officers' eyes had gone hollow.

Once they returned today, the atmosphere would change completely.

People needed hope to live, after all. The expectation that a better tomorrow would come. If their own efforts helped bring it about, few joys could match it.

From far away, a Grumble's roar rang out.

'They're starting to come.'

Even if the vast majority of the mutant hordes were swarming the blockade line, the scattered survivors were so numerous that the monsters chasing them could not be few either. The accelerating rate of Baker Company's ammunition consumption proved it. Despite Gyeoul's efforts, they had fought seven engagements of various sizes yesterday alone and used over a thousand live rounds.

The situation he worried about most was encountering a special mutant, especially a Grumble, before the Company's firepower was reinforced. It was a race against time between humans and monsters. Right now, with not even one grenade left, if a Grumble appeared, the whole Company would have to evade. Or the mobile unit would step in and use its speed to lure it somewhere else. They had no choice but to hope additional supplies came quickly.

'If it really has to be fought and killed before then, there are ways...'

The whole way back, Gyeoul focused on the giant monster's weak points.

If they absolutely had to face one, an enhanced variant might be better than an ordinary Grumble. The higher the enhancement grade, the stronger its Physical Resistance became, but that was because its sturdy outer shell had also grown thicker. At the parts where the joints folded, the surface split and exposed the flesh inside.

In other words, it was powerful in group combat, but in an individual close engagement, it could actually be more vulnerable than before enhancement.

Of course, to attack that weak point, one had to approach to a fatal distance.

Was there no better method?

Imagining unavoidable combat like this was his habit of always preparing for the worst. Since they were driving along a familiar road, he had plenty of time to think. As the Company base drew close, a lake where the spring sunlight shimmered passed by on their side. The familiar herd of alpacas was still holding its territory.

============================ Author’s Note ============================

#Holiday

It was a long holiday. Did you all enjoy it?

Since Naver was not accepting manuscripts during that period, I had no choice but to delay the serialization.

Meaning authors do not get anything like holidays...

Ugh... my hands are shaking.

Footnotes:

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