WeTried Translations

Translator: Coughing Baby

Editor: Coughing Baby

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

Chapter 240: Suspended Sentence (12)

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There was no need to slow down. The cavalry scouts had circled around from the flank and joined them in the same direction. The platoon leader at their head brought their horse alongside Gyeoul’s and saluted him.

“You’ve worked hard, Major. From here, we’ll guide you in.”

Gyeoul returned the salute and tilted his head.

“I appreciate the welcome, but I don’t exactly need a guide.”

“Please just take it as orders. It wouldn’t look right if the famous cavalry commander had less than a squad of cavalry following him. The war correspondents would hate it. And for morale, the soldiers inside the garrison need to see it too.”

That much was familiar. Except Olema was still an infantryman’s day’s march away.

“I understand, but there was no need to come out this far, was there?”

“Half of it really is ceremony. Thanks to you killing off those cunning bastards, the pressure on the front has eased quite a bit. If not for you, Major, we wouldn’t be riding these beauties either.”

“They don’t look like horses you secured locally.”

“Ah, I heard a Central Asian dictator brought them over when he went into exile.”

“If there were enough to hand over what a cavalry unit needs, one private jet probably wouldn’t have been enough...”

“Well, anyone who saved his horses before his people is human garbage beyond dispute. But what can you do? More than a few politicians proved they were trash during the Morgellons crisis.”

Throughout the conversation, the cavalry scouts kept stealing glances at Gyeoul. Whenever their eyes met by chance, they quickly looked away, stiffened, or sometimes gave him a nervous smile. Those in the last group only relaxed once Gyeoul smiled back. The platoon leader followed Gyeoul’s gaze and frowned at the subordinates. The cavalry scouts shamelessly looked away.

Gyeoul could feel hope from them.

That was why the temporary Company looked at the cavalry scouts like strange animals, or something even more foreign.

‘They probably didn’t organize them just to use as an honor guard, though.’

At this point, Gyeoul judged cavalry to be a decent branch to add to the official organization. Their mobility was good, and below a certain scale, they could be supplied locally. The feed and hay they could procure from the ranches nearby would be enough to operate at battalion scale for a long time. If that ran out, efficiency would drop, of course, but they could be put out to graze. In the worst case, they could be slaughtered.

“When you return, Major, you should be able to receive one of these for yourself.”

At the cavalry scout platoon leader’s words, Gyeoul shook his head.

“I’m fine. I’m satisfied with the one I have now.”

He was not just being polite. No matter how fine a horse was, making a new horse as used to combat as Xcel at this point would inevitably create a gap in combat power.

The Lieutenant riding the fine horse, however, seemed unconvinced.

“You say that because that one has done so well, but there’s no getting around the difference in breed. I heard that if these were put up at a New York horse market, they’d easily go for over a hundred thousand dollars.”

A hundred thousand dollars? Gasps came from the mobile unit members listening in. Now that they had gotten used to horses, they seemed tempted. Gyeoul paused for a moment.

“It might be worth keeping one as a spare horse. But horse markets are opening in New York too?”

“These are the times we live in. I’d want to buy one too.”

Civilian use of cars was still restricted. It was only a matter of limiting the operating hours of privately owned vehicles, but civilians had reason to worry that fuel supplies might be cut off. Persuading them that production was sufficient would not work.

Of course, Gyeoul’s own trail of activity had probably poured oil on that fire too.

As they drew closer to the sea, faint explosions sounded from time to time.

“They must be clearing mines, right?”

The cavalry scout platoon leader confirmed Gyeoul’s guess.

“Yes. Looks like they’ve finished minesweeping the mouth of the bay. Ships started coming in yesterday.”

Before long, they saw it for themselves. The sea opened up beside the road. The waterway cut roughly twenty kilometers inland along the national park, all the way to Point Reyes Station. It looked about 1.5 kilometers wide, but the ships spaced along it formed an oddly straight line. Since this had not been a harbor to begin with, the underwater terrain must have been poor. The many dredgers at work proved as much.

“Good grief. Cavalry wasn’t enough, and now we have a sailing ship too.”

Someone let out an incredulous sigh. Gyeoul spoke to the murmuring group.

“Don’t misunderstand. That ship was already active before all this.”

In other words, it was not a relic revived because the situation had gotten worse.

The cavalry scout platoon leader looked surprised.

“How do you know that too?”

There was a faint hint of disappointment as well. Apparently, the Lieutenant had expected Gyeoul to be surprised or ask about it.

“I found out by chance.”

He did not mention that he had once owed it a debt. That had not been in this round.

Back then, there had been no Melville Ray. Just as his encounter with the Trickster had felt unfamiliar, the first few apocalypses had included no sea monsters at all.

The long, sleek hull was painted white, crossed by one thick red diagonal stripe and one thin blue diagonal stripe. The golden eagle figurehead stood out. USCGC Barque Eagle. A Coast Guard vessel, and the only sailing ship operated by the U.S. military. Originally, it had been built by Nazi Germany, or so the story went.

Right now, it was sailing with all its sails furled. When necessary, it traveled under engine power.

The difference from the past was its armament. It had originally been a pure training vessel with no separate means of attack, but now anti-tank missile launchers and numerous heavy machine gun mounts had been installed. The old depth charge projector at the stern was likely a countermeasure against Melville Ray.

Farther inside, a hospital ship was visible as well. It was easy to recognize, with a red cross painted on a white background.

Gyeoul pointed at the surf-breaking shore.

“Did that ship run aground?”

In the direction he pointed, there was a tilted cargo ship. Perhaps it had entered before the channel had been dredged and suffered an accident. A thin oil slick spread around it. Luckily, there was barely any.

“No. I don’t know the details, but I heard that was also a ship used for minesweeping.”

Ah, so he had been mistaken. Gyeoul nodded at the cavalry scout platoon leader’s explanation. The Chinese military escaping San Francisco Bay had used the same method. They had filled the inside with something like Styrofoam and pushed it forward.

They talked about one thing and another, and it took less than an hour to reach the end of the bay.

“Why is there a UN flag over there...?”

Schultz muttered in confusion. Gyeoul was a little taken aback too. North of Point Reyes Station, there really was a blue United Nations flag hanging. There were multinational forces cooperating with the United States for various reasons, but they did not put the UN forward. Unless they wanted to become U.S. forces outright.

When he looked back, the cavalry scout platoon leader shook their head too. Judging by the lack of surprise, the Lieutenant knew about it, but did not know the details.

From the garrison, which had been made by fortifying an abandoned town, he could hear languages other than English. Most were Spanish and Portuguese, but several other unidentified languages were mixed in as well. If it had only been those first two, he might have thought they were units that had defected from Central and South America.

Reporters waiting from the entrance thrust cameras toward him. They were familiar faces from before he had left Olema. Gilbert Martineau took off his hat and gave a slight bow, while Helen Tamiris waved hard with a bright smile. In Helen’s other hand was a microphone. Trevor Baptiste, holding a camera, counted down, and Helen immediately turned around and swept back her hair.

Not one of them looked as dark as they had that night.

The troops assigned to the blocking position pointed at Gyeoul. Even the people stacking sandbags shirtless dropped their work and gathered around. Black soldiers with very dark skin. Their numbers made the sight all the more striking. The camouflage pattern of their uniforms was unfamiliar, but their gear had been standardized to U.S. military issue.

“Is that him? Hero Han?”

“Han Gyeoul! You worked hard! Major! We honor you! Love!”

“...”

They seemed to have learned English a little strangely. Awkward wording aside, the officer was extremely solemn. The officer scolded the noisy subordinates into formation, then stood at attention and paid respects to Gyeoul.

This repeated the entire way through the garrison. Only the nationality changed. Even soldiers using the outdoor showers stuck their bodies out past the partitions and shouted.

“This is practically a triumphal procession.”

Morales’s troubled assessment was accurate.

Then Gyeoul spotted an unexpected familiar face. Umehara Atsu, Commander. The captain of the submarine Jinryu, who had helped him when he was deployed to San Francisco. The Commander stood a little away from the roadside commotion, but Umehara also realized that Gyeoul had recognized him. He asked the packed crowd for room and approached.

“It’s been a while, Captain. I didn’t expect to see you here. I’m glad you’re safe.”

“It’s good to see you. You’ve become a Major in the meantime.”

The Commander was thinner, but his complexion was fairly good. Even though his rank was high, he did not speak casually, just as he had when they first met.

“What happened?”

At Gyeoul’s question, which carried several meanings, Commander Umehara looked around. After a brief hesitation, he spoke quietly enough to be swallowed by the cheers, low enough for only Gyeoul to hear.

“It is still classified, but six days ago, we sank Changcheng 9. We had help from the U.S. Navy, and Jinryu is no longer in condition to carry out missions, but still. For now, we have been temporarily reassigned to the transport convoy.”

“I’m sorry you had to give up your ship... But Changcheng 9? That submarine survived the nuclear retaliation?”

“Yes. There were other combat vessels that escaped amid the confusion as well. The surface ships did not make it past that day, but submarines were different.”

Gyeoul frowned. A crisis had passed without him even knowing. If even a single nuclear submarine had succeeded in launching ballistic missiles, America would have had no chance to recover.

“If that happened, there should be no need to keep it classified...”

“It is currently being verified. I am certain it was Changcheng 9, but if by any chance that conclusion has to be reversed later, it will not end as a matter of the U.S. government’s reputation.”

Yet Gyeoul sensed unease flicker through the Commander. Was there any reason to be uneasy now?

“Are you worried they might take the credit from you?”

That was it. Commander Umehara let out a sigh.

“You are sharp. Yes. Major General Kitchener said that would never happen... that the U.S. Navy does not steal another person’s honor. But given our difficult position, I keep worrying over nothing.”

Would that really happen? Gyeoul turned briefly and looked at the UN flag fluttering in the wind. He had been thinking about it the whole time. There had to be political considerations behind putting forward the UN, now that it was practically a hollow name. Nor did it seem likely that a president desperate to prevent divisions inside and outside the country would concentrate all the credit on the U.S. military.

The Commander glanced sideways at the halted column.

“I’m sorry. I only meant to exchange greetings, but I have held up a busy man for far too long. If there is another chance later, let us meet again.”

“Yes. Please don’t worry too much. It will be all right.”

His personal guess was not enough to reassure the other man, so Gyeoul kept his earlier thoughts to himself. Before parting, he shook hands with the Commander. The Commander was conscious of the cameras. Gyeoul caught a glimpse of the hardship of a soldier who had to be more than a soldier.

“What did you talk about? I don’t know who that was, but they looked rather gloomy.”

The cavalry scout platoon leader seemed to have taken a poor view of the Maritime Self-Defense Force officer. Gyeoul shook his head.

“He helped me briefly before. The mission was classified, so he lowered his voice.”

It was a little different from the truth, but that much would be enough. At the word “classified,” the cavalry scout platoon leader lost interest.

The elementary school where they had once fought mutants had been renovated into the multinational force’s command post. The U.S. military area was deployed south of the creek, but the atmosphere did not particularly change. Inside the ranch fence, dozens of horses wandered leisurely through the pasture.

‘The unit is bigger than I expected.’

The garrison Gyeoul saw was large enough for at least one division. They had dispersed the camps here and there with emergency blocking and fire support in mind, but even accounting for the gaps, the scale was considerable.

And then, at last.

“Captain! Little Captain!”

A voice he had not heard in a long time. Familiar faces appeared. Many people were teary-eyed.

But his gladness lasted only a moment. Gyeoul grew confused when he saw Yura running toward him, wiping away her tears. She had a tiger skin draped over herself like a cloak. Jin-seok and the other Company members looked perfectly normal, and yet...

A tiger skin...

No, why?

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

#Sigh

Joara recently held a rather... strange... “text file pirates turn over a new leaf?” event. Once it became controversial, they deleted it...

Among all the platforms, Joara is the easiest and fastest place for leaked text files to spread. So when they proudly announced that they had shown leniency to illegal uploaders, and that they had withdrawn lawsuits because most of the uploaders were students and pitiful, of course people got angry...

They wrote it in a way that made misunderstanding unavoidable. Copyright belongs to the author, so when they do not even protect it properly most of the time, who gave them the right to forgive anyone?

First of all, Joara does not have the right to file lawsuits or withdraw lawsuits on behalf of authors.

In other words, what they boasted about in that event explanation seems to be cases involving a tiny number of authors who had management contracts with Joara. Twenty-something cases at most? Out of thousands of leaks, they exaggerated that as if they had been trying to protect all authors.

But even taking that into account... it is also a problem that they had the primary responsibility to prevent leaks but did not offer any real improvement measures... and it is also a problem that they tried to show off over something so minor...

More than anything, not having the right to sue cannot be an excuse, because if they were serious about protecting authors, they could at least inform authors of leak cases and help them. In fact, plenty of people write complaints on someone’s behalf and take a fee for it... Most of it is copy and paste anyway, so if they are not going to strengthen security, they could at least do that much...

They also talk as if the closing of Cherry Blossom Library was Joara’s achievement alone, but that was a collaboration between other publishers and platforms that had been sharpening their knives for a long time, and Joara only had some share in it.

If they had stayed still, they would have at least been average...

I heard quite a few authors were so upset by this incident that they are stopping their serialization on Joara.

Well... I suppose it can’t be helped...

Footnotes:

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