WeTried Translations

Translator: Coughing Baby

Editor: Coughing Baby

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

Chapter 223: The End of April (10)

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Only one case had been reported, but an enhanced mutant had already fired a small-arms weapon. A wild burst that ended in barely two seconds. That meant it had at least been able to pull the trigger in unaimed point fire. That Beta Ghoul was killed on the spot. According to the report, the chamber was empty. Whether the thing had known how to change magazines was doubtful.

'But assuming they will never learn is way too optimistic. They are being shown it again and again... Maybe in this world too, before long...'

When facing a rushing plague herd, one or two seconds were precious. Every tick of the second hand cut the remaining distance by ten meters. That was why sudden gunfire was dangerous. However low the accuracy, few soldiers would not flinch in front of an enemy holding an automatic weapon.

In the past, Gyeoul had even seen a ghoul strip body armor off a corpse and put it on.

So ammunition, at least, had to be kept from leaking out. Automatic weapons burned through it terribly fast.

Krrk, khk!

Someone made a choking sound. Everyone still awake jumped.

"Everyone, calm down. It's nothing. Don't wake the people sleeping for no reason."

Gyeoul raised a hand and calmed the commotion. The person who had been lying there with an open mouth and no breath gave a rumbling snore a moment later.

"Damn!"

The soldiers, finally understanding the situation, cursed under their breath. Someone started to throw a stone, then stopped. A Private was still holding a gun, chest rising and falling. A burnt child dreads the fire. As routed soldiers who had been chased for so long, they could not help watching for even the smallest sign of infection.

"Major."

Lieutenant Casper, whose eyes were bloodshot, called to Gyeoul.

"Excuse me, but how long can you stay? As you can see, everyone's a wreck..."

Gyeoul checked his watch. The size of the force here, the chance of moving safely to the rally point, and the benefit of moving without delay to hunt Tricksters all swept through his mind.

"As I said before, if an emergency order or rescue request comes in, I won't have a choice. Otherwise, I'll stay for the next forty minutes. No longer than that. Lieutenant, get some sleep too. That's an order."

They belonged to different organizations, so he had no command authority, but Lieutenant Casper dipped their head once in gratitude.

Once he gave them a clear time, more people relaxed and fell asleep. It felt as if they would be all right because a war hero was here. During that time, Gyeoul kept watch in every direction except upwind. Xcel and the other horses were as sensitive to smell as hounds, so they would quickly notice any approach from the direction the wind was blowing from.

The sounds of weary dreaming grew.

Gyeoul used the lull to check updated information. The mobile unit members, who were not desperate for rest, did the same.

Among the information he had been cleared to read after rising in rank, there were many useful items. Matters kept from ordinary soldiers for morale management.

'GPS signal jamming, huh. This feels like they're going too far, but there's no harm in preparing for anything in advance.'

The Department of Defense Quarantine Strategy Research Institute was worried that Tricksters might decode GPS signals. If any such signs were found on the front, they were to be reported as a top priority.

Large-scale movements of mutants converged on the road network humans had built. A vast landmass became a geographic barrier all by itself. It was one of the reasons countries like Russia and Australia still survived.

If the roads were erased without a trace, whether by carpet bombing or any other method, mutants without systematic geographic information would have no choice but to wander for a long time. Weren't the trials and errors of explorers and pioneers part of civilization's legacy? Russia, where the travel interval from the nearest military bases was thirty minutes, had an even greater advantage. That side did not have Tricksters who understood one another's positions. They were on another continent.

"Have you seen this, sir?"

The mobile unit members were just as starved for news. Morales showed their PDA screen.

"They say every combatant who took part in Operation Preventive Scalping will be awarded the Bronze Star. For those killed in action, it'll be at least the Silver Star or a Cross."

"Is that strange?"

"It doesn't feel as if we're carrying out an operation that dangerous..."

The loss rate among the troops deployed for this operation had already reached thirty percent. That was also information available only above a certain rank, but if they had been a single unit, it would have been normal for them to be judged destroyed and withdrawn.

"Thank me for that."

At Gyeoul's joke, several people burst out laughing.

"As if we wouldn't know. Anyway, my pay will go up a little. Not that I'll have anything to spend it on for a while. I also like that I no longer have to fill the full twenty years. Ah, was that not something to say in front of you, Major?"

At Morales's sly remark, Gyeoul gave an awkward smile.

Twenty years of service was the maximum payment condition for a military pension. Some discharged officers even reenlisted as soldiers to fill it, so it was worth coveting.

The Department of Defense had recently announced a policy of adding decorated service history to years of service. It was a measure meant to raise soldiers' morale. How many soldiers would survive safely to discharge was another question.

The added years differed depending on the medal's grade. The Medal of Honor was five years. Gyeoul, whose second award was all but certain, already had ten years from that alone. Adding his other medals brought him to nineteen years and six months. Counting his existing service period, it meant he had passed twenty years. He was therefore scheduled to receive the thirty-thousand-dollar bonus paid at the fifteen-year mark, and no matter what rank he held in the future, his pay would be calculated at the highest step.

A new decoration system for the quarantine war was being made, so he would probably gain a few more.

When he wore Dress Blue, the left side of his coat would end up plastered with medals.

Arf! Arf!

A dog's bark came out of nowhere. Gyeoul doubted his ears. The mobile unit members had not heard it yet. It was that far away and that faint. But when he turned his eyes, he saw a small dachshund running painfully near the horizon. Black fur with brown markings. Something about the way it ran on its short legs looked awkward. Its joints seemed to have developed a problem. Even so, it ran hard, long ears flapping.

'How did it follow us? Smell? Or the horse hoofprints?'

Either way, it was no ordinary dog.

Flop. Its forelegs buckled, and the dog rolled down a low slope. It could not get up right away. Sprawled out, it panted. Its tiny chest rose and fell with each gasping breath. Its thin body and ribs stood out even more. Still, it somehow trembled back to its feet. Should he call that willpower? Even as the rhythm of its feet failed to match and it fell over several times, it came straight toward him.

Gyeoul glanced sideways at Schultz. The unit member had been especially tender toward abandoned dogs. Recently, Schultz had been shaken badly enough to worry him. There seemed to be a story there. If that dog had come all the way here, how badly would it shake Schultz?

Click. The sound of a rifle safety being released. An instant was enough to aim. A gunshot through a suppressor would draw the attention of a few people, but he could simply say he had killed a mutant at a distance they could not see.

Yet he hesitated. Humanity was always inefficient. An efficient person was nothing more than a function. While he paused, the soldiers who noticed something odd followed the boy's gaze. At that point, it was already too late. Unit members who could not recognize it right away relied on their scopes. Gyeoul lowered the muzzle.

"Ha..."

An emotion that failed to become words. Not only Morales, who had made the sound, but everyone else also could not take their eyes from their eyepieces. They only stared blankly at the dog, which kept falling and was covered in dirt.

This is troublesome. Gyeoul looked back at the soldiers drawn by the barking. Should he shoot it even now?

Arf! Arf!

The second bark was the final blow. Gyeoul let out a long sigh. At last, he took his finger out of the trigger guard. Leaving it behind had already been hard enough. In the age of Virtual Reality, children were not the only ones easily abandoned. Dogs in Virtual Reality were superior to dogs in physical reality in every way. The streets during his life had been full of shabby dogs and cats. They had been the pitiful friends of lonely boys and girls.

At last, the dachshund reached its destination. Even as it trembled, it wagged its tail with difficulty.

The unit members watched Gyeoul's face.

"I won't kill it. If we leave it alone, it'll keep following us. We'll tie its mouth shut and send it out on the next air transport. So feed it moderately. Enough that it doesn't die. Be careful not to get bitten."

Leaving it to Lieutenant Casper would have been irresponsibly pushing a risk onto them. One person did not look pleased, but the rest were overjoyed. Schultz, who had been especially tense, was nearly in tears.

Attention and affection poured onto the short-legged dog. Soldiers bickered, each telling the others not to feed it too much. The mobile unit members and routed soldiers blended together naturally. The dog flopped over and showed its belly, whining. They said dogs like that were fiercer than they looked, but the chance of it going berserk seemed low.

Watching their happy faces, Gyeoul thought. Life should have been enough with just that much. I didn't ask much from my parents...

"Let's part here. I wish you luck, Lieutenant."

Time was up. The brief rest had breathed energy into the routed soldiers. Lieutenant Casper, who had unconsciously been smelling the dog scent left on their hands, answered Gyeoul's farewell.

"This greeting comes late, but thank you for saving us. It was an honor to meet you. Stay safe."

Seeing the crisp salute, Gyeoul saw that the recovery was clear. In the end, life was hope.

Would they be around regiment size by now?

A considerable number of troops had joined Colonel Rogers this way. If nothing unusual had happened, they would be at least a regiment, perhaps even a division or more. Could there be better news for civilians who had despaired, thinking they were all dead? When a ship sank, wasn't it normal to celebrate each person rescued?

In the afternoon, they crossed between Santa Rosa and Mark West and entered the forested area to the west. After devastated grape and orange farms, they passed the crash site of a passenger plane. Far off, the triangular runway of Sonoma County Airport could be seen. It was full of abandoned aircraft. Gyeoul could guess why the plane had crashed here.

It was an American aircraft, so if this had been a world setting where the government collapsed, he definitely would have searched it. It was a chance to secure food and weapons at the same time.

The 「Days after Apocalypse」 world setting began in 2016. It was after the 9/11 attacks. So there was definitely armed equipment for the captain and copilot in the cockpit. To be exact, it would be in the locked cabinet at the lower rear of the cockpit. There would also have been two federal Air Marshals among the passengers. In other words, four pistols.

All through the ride, whining kept coming from behind the saddle.

[The movements of those dirty bastards have gotten a lot clumsier.]

It was Private Harper speaking through the receiver. Gyeoul answered while pulling the trigger again and again.

"You can be happier about it. It means all the effort until now paid off."

His accuracy from horseback was one hundred percent. The current Gyeoul had enough skill to hit every shot within fifty meters even if he fired with the gun tucked against his side. Mutants wandering through the mountains collapsed in heaps.

The forest grew more and more enormous. This was the native habitat of the famous American sequoia. Dense green trees that rivaled the Statue of Liberty. Thousand-year crowns. Even the midday sun could not pierce them easily. It was a place they would not have entered under normal circumstances, but a rescue signal had been detected, so a search was unavoidable.

'At least one Trickster seems to have slipped this way too...'

The ones that noticed the large-scale hunt seemed to have hidden themselves to escape pursuit. To Gyeoul, this could be called the final phase of this operation. Though his assigned area might be expanded.

Of course, he had not entered such rough terrain without a plan.

A white concrete wall suddenly appeared between the giant trees.

There had been several months before the Great Plague Morgellons crossed the ocean. During that time, a boom in air-raid shelter construction had swept across the Americas. The ruin before them now was a trace of that. But it had never been completed. Supply could not keep up with demand. For the government, protecting major cities had come first. Thanks to that, New York, Washington, and other such places were wrapped in walls that called medieval cities to mind.

Gyeoul gave the unit members an order.

"We'll spend tonight here. We'll be staying three or four days, so search it properly."

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

#Full-Time Writer

Unexpectedly, quite a few people ask questions because they want to become full-time writers.

No, I'm not qualified to answer those questions...

#Q&A

Q. UnlimitedOne: @As expected, headquarters' concerns and the field are different. But it's sadder because both are perfectly possible concerns and field concerns(...) Is 1892 taken from the year the virus was discovered?

A. Uh... um... There is no deep meaning. Really.

Q. AutumnWindFallingLeaves: @After hope comes despair.....

A. Well now. You don't trust the author. Why? This is such a hopeful novel.

Q. BlueCrystal: @Author, I got chills after seeing your last comment reply. You actively recommend a world setting where this kind of childlike innocence bursts out, so are you inducing old people?? who only have brains left to get PTSD on their own?? Looking at DLC sales too, you make them spend money on various personalities (celebrities and so on), and once they spend it all, they naturally get PTSD. You are more thorough than I thought, Author. Today, I remember your answer more than the chapter. (ps This is why Noble is better than Naver.)

A. I'm thinking of including a Q&A around the third physical book volume. If the answers are more memorable than the main text, that must mean the main text isn't fun enough. I'll work harder... sob

Q. Pare: @Did he change combat uniforms?

A. Yes. He received supplies.

Q. NoblesseBuffer: @If you have a Cheogajip nearby, just get the seasoned or supreme seasoned chicken. It tastes like heaven fr

A. The neighborhood I moved to doesn't even have a Lotteria... If I want a hamburger, the only option is Hong Seok-cheon burgers from the convenience store... sob...

Q. MasterKalsolum: @Ooh, is that a coded message saying you'll serialize until chapter 1892!

A. Please just kill me instead...

Q. KTH: @I'm curious about skill ranks. What is the limit of skill ranks? For example, in the case of Personal Firearms Proficiency, at superhuman ranks it grants increased human abilities like field of view, visible range expansion (infrared vision and such), reflexes, or body-modification-level abilities. If someone used an editor or cheat to raise a skill rank to level 65535, would it reach a situation like "you are already dead"? Also, was it Close Combat? If that skill were raised, would someone learn martial arts they don't know? If Insight reaches the superhuman realm, does it become Laplace's demon? In short, please tell us the limits of skills.

A. That question is too broad... As author Lee Yeongdo said, settings are the roots of a novel. Sometimes, it's better if they aren't revealed. I'd like to leave it to the readers' imagination.

Footnotes:

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