WeTried Translations
Translator: Coughing Baby
Editor: Coughing Baby
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
Chapter 250: Farewell (6)
──────
The ranch where the Company was stationed grew busier by the day. New people kept coming to find Gyeoul.
“Please check these and sign.”
A sergeant who had driven in vehicles freshly unloaded at the harbor, packed full of food and ammunition, held out documents and a PDA to Gyeoul. The papers were an itemized list, and the PDA displayed an electronic receipt confirmation form.
Ordinarily this would have been the Company supply NCO’s job, but that person was away at division headquarters on other business. Everyone was busy ahead of the new operation. The operation’s details were being refined moment by moment.
“Four shelter carriers, eight armored trucks, one vertical drilling rig... one hundred high-explosive rounds and thirty-two dual-purpose rounds for the recoilless rifle, M3... sixty mortar illumination rounds... 5.56-millimeter ammunition...”
The shelter carriers were Humvees modified into transport vehicles, but now they looked closer to mobile bunkers. Steel spikes had been welded onto the outer armor plates, and they had gun ports that could be opened and closed.
After checking the cargo against the list, Gyeoul signed the PDA. No sooner had the sergeant stepped back than the next people approached. They were an unusual group, a mix of soldiers and civilians. Their leader saluted.
“I’m Montgomery from the division’s engineering corps. We’ve been temporarily attached for this operation.”
“Welcome, Lieutenant. But those people... are they the personnel needed to restore the power plant?”
The civilians who met Gyeoul’s eyes at the question gave stiff smiles, then returned to blank expressions. Without exception, they were middle-aged or older men. They seemed less nervous about meeting someone famous than about being in unfamiliar surroundings. Insight affirmed the guess, and the Lieutenant from the engineering corps nodded as well.
“That’s right. They’re technicians dispatched from a civilian power company. Here are the orders and support forms.”
More documents. Gyeoul wished most of this could have been handled electronically, but that was too much to ask here. With civilian businesses involved, special forms were necessary too.
‘But these support forms...’
Gyeoul’s eyes, which had been moving quickly down the lines, gradually slowed. It was because of the clauses the technicians volunteering for this mission had agreed to in advance. Most dealt with danger and compensation. One of them read, “I fully understand the risks of this mission, and even if I die during its execution, I will not seek any compensation beyond what is provided by the United States government under the relevant laws and regulations.”
“Everyone, are you really sure about this? I can’t guarantee your survival on this mission.”
When Gyeoul raised the document and asked, one of the technicians, who had taken off his helmet and was turning it over in his hands, answered.
“My son’s fighting too. Not here, but somewhere. What kind of father could be at ease while his child’s in danger?”
“...”
The rest of the technicians silently agreed in front of Gyeoul, who had fallen quiet.
This was how good people died. Just as they had in the refugee camp.
“I understand. As your commander, I’ll do my best to keep you safe. While you’re staying here, if anything is inconvenient, please tell anyone at all... Merriweather!”
Hearing the call, Sergeant Merriweather approached, and Gyeoul gave the order.
“They’re engineering corps personnel and civilian technicians temporarily attached to us. Assign them quarters and issue them supplies.”
“Yes, sir.”
The engineering corps soldiers following Merriweather did not all share the same unit mark. No wonder the documents had listed them only as division engineering corps, without unit numbers. They seemed to be survivors reorganized together. Even so, many parts of this newly created division still felt rough.
Then again, the truly abnormal thing was that a division-level unit formed only recently was being sent straight into actual combat.
That did not make it all bad. They were elites, handpicked from among soldiers who had survived the worst. Counting only the forces recovered from Olema FOB, they could have formed several more new divisions.
In the middle of the chaos, an Apache attack helicopter landed. The loud exhaust and the untimely gust of wind drew everyone’s attention. One of the pilots even climbed out. D’Angelo, the weapons NCO who had been inspecting the heavy weapons that were excessive for a Company this size, stopped working and shouted loudly.
“Hey, Warrant Officer! Didn’t you get the landing site mixed up?”
“If this is David Task Force, then I came to the right place, Corporal!”
What was this? Gyeoul watched as the Warrant Officer ran a bare hand along the side of the fuselage, pressed the latches, and opened an armor panel. It was like a storage compartment, and a box of mail came out of it. After looking around, the Warrant Officer brought it over to Gyeoul. Setting the box down, the Warrant Officer saluted like a new recruit.
“It’s an honor to meet you!”
“Ah, I hear that a lot.”
Gyeoul answered with mock weariness, making the Warrant Officer laugh, then asked while examining the box,
“Warrant Officer, did an Apache come all this way just for this?”
An attack helicopter that cost tens of thousands of dollars in fuel every time it took off, used for mail delivery.
“Not just for this. We were giving fire support nearby anyway, so we stopped by on the way. We do this from time to time, but it still feels a little strange. Usually the weapons specialist takes it out. And it’s not something you should call just this.”
It was work that delivered news from precious people. After saying that much, the Warrant Officer hesitated briefly.
“Sir, I know this isn’t proper, but if it’s all right with you... could we maybe take a picture... together...”
The voice cracked, probably from nerves. It was only natural that making a request like that of a Major would be difficult. Before the Warrant Officer, unable to meet Gyeoul’s eyes, could regret saying it, Gyeoul smiled.
“Let’s do it. Come here.”
The Warrant Officer brightened and slung an arm around Gyeoul’s shoulder. Click. After checking the phone, the Warrant Officer tapped the screen a few times, pulled out a stylus pen, and hesitated again. Gyeoul gestured for it, took it, and quickly signed the corner of the photo. He was used to it, since he had so many things to sign.
“Thank you, Major.”
“No need to thank me. If I ever need support later, I’ll be counting on you.”
“Of course.”
Realizing time had been wasted, the Warrant Officer hurried back. An unheard exchange passed with the senior pilot. The one who had been waiting seemed to be scolding them. The Warrant Officer kept smiling to the very end. Then the helicopter took off.
When Gyeoul opened the mail box, there were no letters addressed to him. There had probably been too many for them to even think of loading them all. Some were likely from the alliance as well, but those seemed to have been handled in a batch.
Gyeoul called over the recipients by radio. Some kissed their letters, some jumped in place, some cried, some laughed... Just as the Warrant Officer had said, it was important work. Even Jin-seok, who had always been gloomy since their reunion, softened when he saw the sender’s name, and Yura’s eyes reddened.
“Are you that happy?”
“Yes! So this is what it feels like to get letters in the army! We haven’t even been apart that long...”
Then the sender was probably someone she had lived with in the alliance, at least.
“Maybe a lover?”
Yura recoiled in horror at the question.
“N-no! No way! I don’t have one! Absolutely not! Never! This is from my dad!”
“...Isn’t that reaction a little too intense?”
“It makes sense!”
So it did...? Looking at Yura, whose eyes were blazing, Gyeoul decided not to ask for the details.
“Come to think of it, I didn’t know much about you, Ensign Yura. I had no idea you had family at Fort Roberts. Is there anyone besides your father?”
“Ah...”
Yura fell quiet and darted her eyes around. It was obvious what she was worried about, but Gyeoul did not show anything. After a while, Yura answered cautiously.
“I’m one of the really lucky cases... My parents and my younger sibling all made it through safely...”
“That’s a relief.”
“...”
Yura grew quiet again and watched Gyeoul hand out letters. Several times, she silently opened and closed her mouth, then suddenly grimaced to herself. After agonizing over it like that, she finally made up her mind.
“Company commander... no, Little Captain... um... do you... maybe... not have any family?”
How should he answer? Gyeoul put on a calm smile.
“Not in this world.”
“Ah...”
Naturally, Yura took it in another sense and grew dejected, blaming herself.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“I was just happy without thinking. I should’ve held myself back, if only for the sake of people who can’t meet their families again... Didn’t it upset you?”
“At this point? Why would it upset me? It’s a common thing.”
Here too, and in the outside world. Yura looked at Gyeoul, who swallowed the rest of that thought, with a stern expression.
“That’s what makes it sadder. Because the people who try to help disappear. They start treating it as natural just because it’s common.”
“...”
“I saw it so many times. Even before the plague spread. People who pitied them at first would grow numb once they got used to it. If it got really bad, they’d even get annoyed. Like, stop already, aren’t you sick of it? I really hated people like that. I hated them, but then I ended up doing the same thing...”
Her voice trailed off at the end, and she sighed. Gyeoul apologized.
“I’m sorry. I spoke too lightly. That was my mistake.”
“What? No, not at all... I’m the one who should be sorry...”
While Yura stayed quiet, Gyeoul continued handing out letters and found another one addressed to her. Judging by the different family name, it did not seem to be from family. The moment Yura saw the sender’s name, she let out another sigh. Her face looked less displeased than troubled.
“Who is it? Why that look?”
“Um... Private Mun Sang-pyo’s mother.”
“Private Mun Sang-pyo?”
Before Gyeoul could search his memory further, Yura spoke first.
“He’s the support gunner in Second Squad. He was one of the new recruits we got when the independent company was formed, and his mother gave me... um... an envelope. With a few hundred-dollar bills inside... asking me to put her son in an easier post... Ugh, that isn’t something I can do...”
For that kind of letter, it would have been better to send it to Gyeoul, regardless of whether he meant to accept it. Or perhaps one had been sent to Gyeoul too and filtered out. In any case, the amount of mail addressed to Gyeoul was excessive. Enough to give blockade line command headaches. Apparently it was still pouring in even after they had broadcast requests for restraint.
After checking the time, Gyeoul decided that even as a way to catch his breath, personally handing them out was no longer practical. He called over the platoon leaders and told them to distribute them by platoon.
While eating his somewhat delayed dinner, he played videos on the Net Warrior terminal. Naturally, they were not movies or television programs, but records of the battles the independent company had fought while Gyeoul was away. Mutants closing in through the shaking footage. Gunfire and shrieks. Shooting. Swearing. Insight worked without pause the entire time he watched.
Separate from taking command of the unit, he needed to know how the Company’s soldiers fought.
“It really has been a hectic day, hasn’t it?”
“Ah, Captain.”
When Gyeoul looked up, the executive officer was standing there with a tray in hand. The mouth buried in the beard curved into a smile.
“You worked hard today. Would it be all right if I sat beside you?”
“You worked hard too, Captain. And of course.”
Captain Singh sat down at the same table. They were beneath the eaves of the ranch terrace. The tray landed with a heavy thump. That was thanks to self-service meals having been introduced after the situation stabilized, though Gyeoul himself had not experienced it much.
“I was watching the videos you selected for me, Captain.”
“I hope they weren’t lacking.”
“Not at all. It’s good that they clearly show how the battle unfolded and what judgments the platoon leaders made. If it hadn’t been for you, it would have taken me a very long time. Thank you.”
“That is my role.”
Apparently satisfied, Captain Singh began to eat. It was a dignified manner that seemed to treasure the beard itself. It was so luxuriant that the chewing sometimes looked like a separate living creature.
“So there’s nothing like a prayer before meals?”
There was no harm in building rapport with the second-in-command. Showing interest in a rare religion seemed worthwhile too. When Gyeoul asked, Captain Singh nodded. The answer came after swallowing the food.
“When needed, I sometimes recite words from scripture, Shabad, but there are no strict rules like in Christianity. Prayer in the morning and evening is enough.”
“I see. If there’s anything I should know about your religious life, would you tell me in advance? I don’t want to make a mistake out of ignorance, and I don’t want you enduring anything alone either.”
That drew a modest look of satisfaction from the Captain.
“You’re truly thoughtful.”
After taking a drink, Captain Singh continued.
“I appreciate the sentiment, but there is no need for you to worry. What matters is how one practices God’s love, not the method of practice itself. That is even more true of faith on the battlefield. A God who loves people is not the sort to punish someone for missing prayer for a day or two.”
It was a generous view of religion. Gyeoul quietly crossed one unpleasant possibility off the list of things he had been wary of.
Captain Singh, who was eating meat and salad together in a peculiar way, asked,
“Will you be meeting Agent Gibson after dinner?”
“That’s the plan.”
“Please comfort Agent Gibson well.”
“...Comfort?”
Captain Singh told the tilting-headed Gyeoul about the past days.
“Yes. While you were away on that long mission, Agent Gibson was very worried. Even though Agent Gibson is a Bureau supervisor, there was no way to access operational information because Agent Gibson is not military personnel, and because of the division commander’s policy, so Agent Gibson often came to me asking for news.”
“Was that so...”
“For one person to cherish another is the quickest path to understanding the name of God. Noble comradeship is the same. Parting should be different from being torn apart.”
They sounded like deep words, steeped in experience somehow.
============================ Author’s Note ============================
#ebook release schedule
Sananan once asked me about the ebook release schedule in a private message, and I thought other people might be curious too, so I’m answering here in the Author’s Note.
For now, Volumes 7 and 8 are supposed to come out sometime in August, and Volume 9 sometime in September.
The dates have been fixed internally, but since they could be delayed depending on the platform’s circumstances, I won’t share them in advance.
As always, Ridibooks will probably get them first.
#Q&A
Q. Eeiko: @Author, do couples appear in any of your past works?
A. Looking at everything as a whole, there are actually more cases where they do. But those were novels I wrote when my writing was even worse than it is now, so if you actually read them, you’ll probably go, “Argh, my eyes!”
Q. Tisrian: @My condolences to the viewers using Sensory Synchronization... 50-degree heat!!! Wouldn’t the viewers be at risk of hypothermia or dehydration? Their brains would be roasting to death, but their bodies would keep sweating, so it feels like they’d go hypothermic...
A. As was mentioned once in the story, the synchronization rate for sensations categorized as pain can be adjusted, so problems like that do not occur. Unless someone deliberately sets it to 100% like Gyeoul.
Q. LunarKarma: @Kim Jong-un and Trump... please write it.
A. W-why...?
Q. LifeSaver: @Kim Jong-un♡Trump, what kind of horrifying... You must never even imagine such a thing. To drive out the author’s dreadful torment, I shall play you a Justin Bieber song.
A. To drive out one torment by summoning another... what kind of horror is this... It’ll keep circling around in my head the whole time I write, like one of those songs people say should be banned during the CSAT.
Q. LewdDemonF: @If you draw Kim Jong-un, Trump, and Xi Jinping in a love triangle, I’ll wear a Hawaiian shirt to my next exam.
A. I don’t know what exam you’re taking, but either way I won’t be writing that. Because I’m a normal person.
Q. Pare: @What kind of clothing emphasizes defense?
A. Since they’re civilians using privately bought gear (...), you can think of it as varied enough that it would be hard to specify a type. In a society like that, all kinds of products would come out.
Q. OneChance: @Yesterday I went to Yeongpoong Bookstore and bought Volume 2 of Ossuary. It’s thick! It feels too thick to waste as a pot stand, so I’m reading it instead. It’s nice rereading it after so long. The picture of Gyeoul in the front and the settings material in the back are fun to look at too, so I’m very satisfied!
A. The illustration of Gyeoul came out really well. If it hadn’t been a physical book, there probably wouldn’t have been a second cover.
Q. Calpis: @Couple heaven! Solo hell! lol I’m in hell T_T
A. It’s the opposite... solo heaven, couple hell. Because your writing only improves when you write alone...
Q. Guaaaaak: @If this mission succeeds without any major trouble, America’s liberation should come into view too. (omitted) So if Gyeoul clears Days after Apocalypse here, what happens to him? I know that’s probably hard to answer since it’s a question about the development of the story, but I’d like you to answer just this one thing. After clearing Days after Apocalypse, will Gyeoul start streaming another game? So could this work go on longer?
A. I have no intention of serializing Ossuary for that long. Right now I’m actually shrinking or cutting episodes that were originally planned. For example, the episode about the satellite communications base south of Fort Roberts, or the Skeleton Madonna episode where I was planning to bring back one of the people believed to have died...
Q. Marker: @Will there really never be any lovey-dovey moments for Gyeoul? I want to see him recover from his trauma and get all sweet with someone, but looking at your childlike innocence, Author, it feels like that absolutely won’t happen...
A. There won’t be. There used to be a plotline for it, but it disappeared when I shifted direction toward a happy ending.
Q. KimGat: @Gyeoul should sing and release an album too!
A. If it’s after the mainland is recaptured, I think it would be entirely possible, but I don’t think that kind of development will appear. Haha.
Q. HoneyJarL: @I saw this in the Author’s Note... First of all, I’m against ending it within 400 chapters. You need to serialize at least 500 chapters, or even more. I can’t let this work go like this, sob sob... Also, please consider serializing all four candidates for your next work at the same time hahaha.
A. Whether it’s a person or a novel, you have to know when it’s time to part and then part. At least 500 chapters... terrifying.
Serializing four works at the same time is... hahaha... I’m not clever enough to juggle multiple worlds at once...
Q. CurryRice: @Thank you for the answer. I’m pretty sure I read that position-based promotion was a temporary rank, so I was curious because it seems like the rank stays even after the operation ends. It’s a little unfortunate that there isn’t any mention in the novel of him continuing to hold the rank of Major haha.
A. Hmm... I’ll look into it.
Footnotes:
Join our discord at https://dsc.gg/wetried
