WeTried Translations
Translator: Coughing Baby
Editor: Coughing Baby
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
Chapter 256: Valley of Death (2)
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Thinking it over, the cavalry was a symbol. The rescue operation had effectively entered its final stage, but as long as the cavalry appeared on screen, citizens could still feel as if the rescue was not over. What the government wanted through that illusion was probably a soft landing: a gradual acceptance of the social shock.
Only 370,000.
The exact number on Gyeoul’s PDA at that moment was 372,620. That was the total number of surviving service members rescued from places such as FOB Olema, Fort Roberts, and Marigold. It was too large a number to call “only,” and the hardships endured by the survivors deserved at least as much recognition as the rescuers’ efforts. Put another way, however, it also meant that nearly 1.6 million troops had not returned.
Heavy gunfire echoed from beyond the hill. It was no ordinary rifle.
“Where is that?”
Major General Rogers asked a division staff officer, and the camera hanging from the crane changed its filming angle. The division operations staff officer, still mounted, worked the tactical information tablet. After several taps, footage from the combat zone appeared over the map. It was a split screen showing several viewpoints at once.
“Task Force White is engaged at Line Kilo. Enemy group size is approximately seventy... No special mutants other than ghouls have been found, but many of them are body-armor-wearing bastards, so we drew them into a heavy machine gun kill zone. The engagement should be over shortly.”
The fight itself was nothing serious. The major general pointed it out without changing expression.
“Watch your word choice.”
The operations staff officer looked confused for a moment, then saw the camera and realized. Ah. Body-armor-wearing bastards. If that went out on broadcast as it was, it was the kind of wording people could seize on. Of course, it would be filtered, but censorship did not necessarily mean deletion. It was a warning that the remark could cause trouble later under the Freedom of Information Act.
“I apologize. I’ll correct myself.”
“Is the honored fallen recovery team on standby?”
“They’re currently deployed in another direction. Scheduled to return at 1500.”
If they were wearing body armor, the odds were high that they were fallen U.S. troops. Unlike before, the situation had improved, so the remains of the fallen could no longer be left unattended. The honored fallen recovery personnel were working through lost sleep.
Just then, the cavalry passed beside the church. It was the place where they had held a funeral without bells, right after first arriving in this small village. Back then, there had not even been a Chaplain’s Assistant, but now an official chaplain was stationed there.
The bodies buried at the time had been transported home. Sergeant Osborne must have felt some of that burden lift as well.
Wiiiing.
The sound of an electric saw spinning. At the carpentry shop beside the church, they were making coffins, just as they had back then. Only now, it was no longer Ensign Escamilla’s responsibility. Officers and soldiers judged unfit for combat and awaiting evacuation had volunteered and were taking turns at the work. Gyeoul wondered if that was really all right, but it was probably better than having nothing to do.
The shirtless, sweating soldiers simply looked absorbed in their work. The special vehicle’s camera crane moved toward them. If it shot them in close-up, what they were making would not matter.
“What does everyone think?”
The major general opened a new topic during a gap in the microphone feed.
“One of the difficulties of this war is that whatever we lose, the enemy gains. The 1.6 million personnel lost means 1.6 million enemies equipped with camouflage combat uniforms and body armor.”
That was only the worst-case scenario. The chances that every missing person had been infected were slim.
“I hear the western front is busy recovering honored fallen as well. There are still many missing, but wouldn’t most of them have been spent by the engagements and bombings so far? The enemy has already reached its offensive limit, and its communications capacity has weakened. I don’t believe it has the room to conserve strength.”
The western front did not mean west of Olema Base, but the main front west of the blockade line.
“Perhaps. Everyone must have thought the same at Iwo Jima.”
“...”
The staff officer who had argued back fell silent. Augmented reality appeared for Gyeoul. It was material included in his abbreviated officer training. During the Battle of Iwo Jima in World War II, many Japanese soldiers survived the powerful preparatory fire poured onto the island by U.S. forces and waited for the landing. They had done so by using tunnel positions.
Tunnels... Is that possible?
Gyeoul had never seen any, and no eyewitness reports had come in, but this time there were Tricksters, so it did not feel impossible. Especially under fierce bombardment like this. They would be useful for ambushes too.
Full-scale excavation would be too much for monsters with less dexterity than humans.
But work on the level of trenches, enough for each individual to avoid shrapnel, seemed possible. A mutant specialized for that purpose might even have appeared, though Gyeoul thought the odds were low.
If it was true that there was a fixed quota for special mutants, then what they lacked most right now would be individuals capable of broad command. In the end, would that not mean Tricksters?
Most importantly, radio waves could not be sent or received in tunnels. Voice relays also had limits along narrow, complicated paths. California was also a region with frequent earthquakes. If they dug poorly, they would be buried alive as a group. Even if tunnels and ambushes existed, that was why they could only be small in scale.
The operations staff officer spoke again.
“The Quarantine Strategy Institute issued the same warning before, but if there had been signs like that, the Rangers or A Teams would have confirmed them. The same goes for satellites and aerial reconnaissance.”
The major general answered.
“I’m not speaking only of tunnel positions. Specific means and methods aside, I’m telling you to prepare for the possibility that the enemy is preserving strategic reserves somehow. We’re insurance brokers who trade in lives, are we not?”
Although it was only a discussion, Gyeoul had doubts about whether it would truly become a threat even if it were true.
“Major Han Gyeoul. Your opinion?”
“...As long as we aren’t caught by surprise, I don’t think it’s a major concern.”
“Why?”
“Because even if many remain, it will be difficult for them to concentrate enough to become an actual threat.”
No, it was closer to impossible. With the end of survivor rescue, the burden of identifying friend from foe would decrease as well. For the artillery and air force, those were ideal conditions. A dense mutant horde would be met with a rain of fire.
“So there’s no need to worry?”
“We only need to stay alert. In dispersed attacks, each mutant being tough doesn’t mean much, does it? I think strengthening night reconnaissance will be enough.”
Major General Rogers showed no real reaction. The major general had asked despite already knowing the answer. It was a kind of basic aptitude test, less out of personal curiosity than for the benefit of the other officers.
Every officer here except Gyeoul was in their thirties. Even if no one doubted the young major’s achievements, some might, out of pure goodwill, worry that he lacked judgment.
It probably doesn’t apply only to me right now, with the officer shortage this serious...
As the U.S. military rapidly expanded, West Point graduates and commissioned college officers could not meet the surging demand for officers. The same went for recommissioned reserve officers. In the end, many were commissioned after only abbreviated training, like Gyeoul, or through early graduation from military academies.
Yura and Jin-seok had been able to receive commissions for the same reason.
Gyeoul, who had become a major through position-based promotion, was also likely to have his current rank officially recognized. The same went for Major General Rogers. In wartime, it was common.
Gyeoul said, “In Korea, there’s a saying that if you save something too long, it turns to shit.”
“Hmm?”
“I mean the mutants that don’t know this summer.”
No further explanation was needed.
“Save something too long and it turns to shit. An amusing expression.”
Of course, Major General Rogers did not look amused at all. Even though the camera had come back midway through. For the major general, this seemed to be the best attempt available.
The patrol continued for about an hour. To civilians, it would look convincing; to officers, it was a slightly awkward formality. When the patrol finally ended, Martineau said this would somehow be enough, lacking though it was, and the officers gave fed-up looks.
“This may be hard to understand, but we’re trying too. It’s common for us to film five hours just to air ten minutes. In any case, thank you all for taking the time when you’re so busy.”
In front of the reporter bowing their head, Major General Rogers remained blunt.
“I was only following orders.”
After that, they finished the usual discussions and coordination before returning to their own stations. Gyeoul left Xcel at the stable and came out to find the soldiers waiting for their Company Commander fooling around inside the Humvee. The rifleman in the rear seat grinned and yanked hard on the red handle beside the gunner’s seat. The seat dropped with a thump, and the gunner who had been dozing inside the closed turret landed flat on the floor. Damn! The shape of the mouth was easy to read. The frowning gunner was none other than Schultz. Schultz had now been promoted to Sergeant too.
They got close fast.
It had not been long since the assignment. Normally, things should still have been awkward with the company members who had already been there. There must have been unseen effort, from both sides. The link was Gyeoul.
“Oh, you’re here, sir.”
When Gyeoul got in, everyone busied themselves at once. It happened every time, to the point that it was a little embarrassing.
The company driver reported.
“We just got a call from the First Sergeant. There are supplies to pick up at Temporary Pier 3 to the north, and rather than getting separate vehicle movement approval, it would be better if Vehicle One, since it’s already out, stopped by... If that’s all right with you, Company Commander.”
“I guess the supplies aren’t large?”
“Uh, well, haha. It’s cigarettes. There isn’t even a BX here.”
It was certainly awkward to send out a whole vehicle just to pick up cigarettes. Gyeoul contacted Company Headquarters by radio.
“David 6 to David 7. Notify them that this location will receive the goods.”
The reply was short. Confirmed. Gyeoul put down the radio and muttered.
“It would be better if everyone quit smoking.”
“...”
Everyone besides Gyeoul went stiff. The company driver, sinking into anguish, said, “Uh, Little Captain... no, if the Company Commander tells them to quit, everyone will quit.”
“I’m not forcing you. I’m just saying it would be better for survival.”
“...”
“I said I’m not forcing you...”
Even Grumble could smell scents within a fifty-meter radius in a windless environment. Stalkers specialized in Tracking could do even more than that, and ordinary mutants also had a sharper sense of smell than humans. The strong smell of burning cigarettes would draw monsters from farther away than body odor.
Even so, the Department of Defense provided soldiers with cigarettes. The purpose was morale. If they focused only on survivability, they would have to remove every trace of smell from combat rations too.
“Let’s get going.”
At Gyeoul’s words, the driver, who had been lost in distress, barely returned to reality.
The scenery outside the window began to slide past. The dirt road was so pale it was nearly white. The line of trucks heading toward the temporary port carried coffins covered with the Stars and Stripes. Bodies whose next of kin had been identified would be transported by air, and those whose next of kin had not would be transported by ship.
Gyeoul glanced sideways, but Schultz’s expression in the turret was not visible. An emotional gap between the existing company members and the newly assigned veterans was unavoidable.
He turned on the radio. It was not the receiver originally installed in the vehicle, but a separate accessory. Reception was possible thanks to the antenna set up at the base. What Gyeoul was looking for was still the frequency of a news channel.
「Breaking news. The Jacksonville Neptune Beach infection incident, which had put northern Florida on edge, has reportedly been resolved only half a day after the first report. Access to the site remains restricted, but Jacksonville police authorities have announced that the spread of infection has been completely stopped.」
“I guess the east isn’t completely safe either.”
Gyeoul answered the comment from the rear seat.
“It’s by the sea.”
The starting point of the infection was probably a Melville Ray. A monster that had appeared on the west coast had traveled thousands of kilometers and reached the east.
It could advance inland through rivers as well, but the U.S. government was aware of that possibility.
But in times like these, is there anyone who would go swimming in the ocean...?
How had anyone become infected?
「The final number of casualties was seven, and it has been revealed that they had regularly shared distrust of the government through SNS. According to the contents, they believed the government was intentionally exaggerating the plague crisis in order to control and oppress the people, thereby attempting to establish a permanent system of rule by capitalists. Authorities believe they tore through the triple concertina wire and crossed onto the shore for the same reason.」
“There’s no limit to how stupid people can get.”
Schultz sounded dumbfounded.
「According to reports from the scene, the incident had already ended before military police arrived. The first people to encounter the mutants were local residents Mr. Edmund Zimmerman, age seventy-two, and Ms. Nina Zimmerman, age sixty-nine. The Zimmermans were reportedly out for a walk at the time. Immediately upon encountering the infected victims, they took an automatic rifle and shotgun from the stroller they always brought with them and fired accurately at-」
“...”
A stroller? Why that, of all things...? Gyeoul was bewildered. The radio went on to say that neighbors who heard gunshots and strange screams provided supporting fire through their windows. The mutants died after being hit by dozens of bullets and several arrows.
「Mayor Dusty Norris described the incident as a victory for brave citizens. With this, we announce that we have safely overcome the thirty-eighth infection to occur in a safe zone.」
The driver looked conflicted.
“Even if the blockade line collapses, wouldn’t we be fine for a while?”
“Don’t say ominous things. How would civilians stop something like Grumble?”
“I was just saying.”
It was true that civilian response capability had improved thanks to the military holding out. As he had heard recently, even commuter trains were armored now. The phrase “Fortified community” had been in use since last year.
The temporary pier appeared beyond the front windshield. Dredgers were still working, and several piers were under construction. Dozens of coffins were being loaded one after another onto the moored Coast Guard sailing ship Barque Eagle. Each time a coffin reached the deck, soldiers saluted solemnly.
“Huh? Major?”
An officer beside a speedboat being loaded with depth charges recognized Gyeoul.
“It’s good to see you healthy, Ensign. No, Lieutenant now. I didn’t expect to see you here.”
Lieutenant Barker, who had saluted at attention, smiled brightly.
“I’m on harbor security right now. Chasing sea monsters and blowing them up, that kind of thing. In a way, I’ve returned to my main job. What brings you here, Major?”
“To pick up cigarette supplies.”
“Oh, have a smoke here before you go.”
“I don’t smoke, though...”
Gyeoul looked back, then nodded at the silent appeal from his company members.
“I suppose we can rest for a bit.”
Picking them up took no time. A little later, the soldiers enjoyed the pleasure of sending cigarette smoke out on the cool sea breeze. Out of consideration for Gyeoul, they gathered downwind. Swoooosh, went the sound of the waves. Seagulls flew through a sky with only a few clouds.
Considering the operation that would soon begin, it was a strangely peaceful moment.
============================ Author’s Note ============================
#KakaoTalk - DirectX
Programmer friend: Hmm. The thought I had as soon as I got to work was, I want to hurry up and get off work so I can read my DirectX book... I guess there wasn’t even 1 percent fulfillment...
Tunguska: Why did I read that as wanting to read an ActiveX book?...
Programmer friend: Oh dear...
Comic artist friend: Their Tunguska’s brain...
#Q&A
Q. Epsilon00: @This subtitle feels kind of Protestant. “Valley of Death” is a phrase I heard so often from that side... haha... Is Saints Church planning something? Also, when I first saw the title, I thought Gyeoul would be the little prince, but more and more I wonder if it might be the Control AI. Then is Gyeoul’s role the fox? The one who taught the little prince about relationships... Hmm... After reading your novels, there’s always a lot to think about for myself, so I really like them :-) Please keep going until the end!
A. Symbols and symbols don’t necessarily have to correspond one-to-one. Haha. Later on, they’ll become effectively one-to-one correspondences, though. But that’s only the author’s conception, so you don’t need to worry about it too much. As I always say, a novel is a means of communication, and interpretation belongs to the reader.
Q. LewdDemonF: @Valley of Death, King David, a pseudo-religious Saints Church, weather as hot as i9... This feels kind of like Doom.
A. Among the citizens who like Gyeoul, some call Gyeoul the prince of hell...
Q. Roanid: @I didn’t even notice the chicken getting cold in front of me because of your work, author. Please don’t write more charmingly than chicken.
A. That makes no sense... Was that chicken BBQ, by any chance?...
Q. CurryRice: @Huh? What the major general said... Isn’t that Gyeoul’s catchphrase?? Did the major general hear Gyeoul say it somewhere, get impressed, and start using it?
A. Who knows. I wonder.
Q. LewdDemonF: @The Control AI was a woman. Isn’t that so unfavorable it almost makes Supervisor Gibson look pitiful?
A. The Star Child has no gender. :)
Q. Ikidas: @Author, have you ever played the Fallout series, another post-apocalypse game?? The core is completely different, but the game system seems somewhat similar. I thought it felt familiar.
A. Unfortunately, I haven’t played it yet. Hearing that it’s similar makes me interested.
Q. Baekwoosasin: @Ding! Baekwoosasin assigns a mission! A man and woman are on an awkward blind date at a Chinese restaurant and order sweet-and-sour pork! While things are awkward between them, the man is the type to dip the pork in sauce, and the woman is the type to pour the sauce over it! What is the wise choice to make in this situation? (For reference, this was a real situation, and if it’s pouring, you get 1 coupon, if it’s dipping, 2 coupons, and if the words “What the hell is this?” naturally come out, 13 coupons chance★ If you fail, I’ll delete my favorite for 1 day♥)
A. Why worry over something like that... Just ask them to bring one more large plate...
Q. Asride: @If the novel is completed, or even before that, if someone says they want to write a spin-off of Little Prince, would you allow it?? Of course, not me, but someone...
A. I don’t mind as long as it isn’t for commercial purposes. As long as the publisher doesn’t dislike it.
Q. 234xcvcv: Personally, I didn’t feel that author was criticizing erotica fantasy. Even if the old star-chasing men in the ossuary and their viewers represented erotica fantasy authors and readers, I thought the attitude toward them in the novel was fairly warm. It felt like you described them as becoming that way not because their personal character was shallow, but because they had been driven into a society that doesn’t let people remain people. With no room left in their hearts, they became fixated on base pleasures.
A. Yes, that was the author’s intention. I’m glad someone understood. T_T
Footnotes:
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