WeTried Translations

Translator: Coughing Baby

Editor: Coughing Baby

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

Chapter 276: Boar Hunt (4)

──────

Boar Hunt was an operation meant to drive a mutant horde across dozens of kilometers, using the rivers that ran through the Central Valley as reference lines, and wipe them out. So from the moment they broke from the formation, the area around the mobile column formed by the engineering corps, centered on Gyeoul’s command armored vehicle, was filled with sprinting mutants. The hordes pushed down from the northern Central Valley, and even from Washington and Oregon, had naturally clumped into a wave-like mass as the encirclement tightened.

Foster groaned like someone trapped in a nightmare as they looked out at the night writhing with corpses.

“Ugh. Those things couldn’t avoid us even if they wanted to. If even one vehicle breaks down here, we’ll be launching another rescue operation.”

“For now, we have no choice but to trust the mechanics.”

Even now, the lukewarm air inside the vehicle and the weak air conditioning made the strain on the equipment clear. But if it had looked as though they would not last even a day, someone would have reported it to Gyeoul already.

A warning came from the lead vehicle.

[Two Grumble at 11 o’clock! Range 150! Estimated enhancement grade Gamma!]

Gyeoul answered at once.

“Ignore them and keep driving! They can’t catch us anyway!”

The rescue mattered, not the fight.

Raaaaaagh!

There were probably only two real roars, but from the command vehicle, they came through as an echoing discord. The sound was being relayed at once from several linked vehicles and multiple soldiers.

At such close range, the relative bearing changed in real time. They had first been at 11 o’clock, but by the time Gyeoul spotted them, they were already at 10. After their brief frenzy, the creatures came charging like a landslide.

[Shit!]

The curse came over the internal radio from the driver’s seat. The sight of two monsters with thick carapaces and split skin oozing fluid closing in at full speed carried enough weight to warp one’s sense of distance.

Bang bang bang bang!

Fire concentrated on them despite his order to ignore them. Gyeoul did not stop it. It would be over soon anyway.

Unable to overcome their own momentum, the two monsters overshot and fell behind the medical unit.

Their high grade and altered pattern meant nothing. The giant monsters still charged in something close to a straight line, and powerful or not, they were not faster than vehicles that had already picked up speed.

One Grumble planted its fists into the ground to brake, smashing through the wall of earth that rose up as it turned and charged toward the rear of the column. But the distance only kept widening. The medical unit vehicle that had kept firing at them until the last possible moment finally turned its muzzle toward another target. The mutants in that line of fire died like a collapsing wave.

Clunk!

The armored vehicle climbed onto the highway, and the shaking eased. Eased, but did not disappear. The road had weathered a typhoon, been bombed, and then cracked open under a murderous summer.

The problem was that the attack aircraft must have landed on this same kind of road.

An eight-wheeled armored vehicle had a maximum speed of 100 kilometers per hour. Right now, however, the road surface limited them to barely 80 kilometers per hour, and even that meant pushing the engine hard enough to risk failure. The other vehicles had to lay down defensive fire on top of that, so the formation often lost shape.

Even after all that hard driving, the first to reach the destination was a drone formation flying in from east of Yuba City. As Gyeoul sent a warning to the left flank, where a gap had opened, the communications officer switched screens.

“Company commander, we’re receiving Predator footage.”

Beep.

The new window opened, but Gyeoul could not tell whether the pilot was alive or dead. Mutants were clinging to the aircraft in a black mass, like ants tearing apart a cicada.

‘Looks like the pilot didn’t eject...’

The canopy was closed, so alive or dead, the pilot should still be inside. The landing must have been rough; on thermal imaging, the road still showed traces of friction.

The intelligence officer raised a question.

“It’s strange how they’re clinging to it when they should be busy running.”

Gyeoul did not answer, but his guess was that they were gathering information. There was probably a Trickster nearby. It might even be the Silent One. A monster that prioritized learning and preserving information above all else.

The sky controlled by humans was a disaster for mutants. Air superiority was one of the greatest obstacles to the spread of infection. So the cunning ones would desperately want to know what aircraft really were.

‘Most of all, wouldn’t they be curious about the pilot?’

Mutants developed their abilities as individuals. So if there was a person inside a flying bolt of lightning, they would likely focus on that person as an individual. Even when helicopters had gone missing one after another, Gyeoul had heard that while the wreckage had been found, most of the pilots had not.

It was only a guess. But it was Gyeoul’s guess. No one else in this world had lived through as many apocalypses as Gyeoul.

The driver reported.

[We’re at Putah Point. Three minutes to the destination.]

Before long, the bridge holding against the white current was close enough to see with the naked eye. The river they had to cross was the Putah. Putah Point was the most important crossing point along the entire river. Flooded trees showed only their crowns above the surface. In ordinary times, the river must have been barely ten meters wide.

Once they broke across the bridge, the intensity of combat dropped. Orchards stretched out on both sides of the road. Orange, cherry, and walnut trees planted like stones on a Go board stood in colors so dry and dead they were clear even in the dark. Here and there were bomb craters and burn marks. Still, about half remained dark green. That ratio hinted at the possibility of recovery after recapture.

“At least the roads are clean on this side.”

Foster meant there were few abandoned cars. Either some unit had cleared the roads in advance, like at Fort Roberts, or people had been evacuated with enough time early in the spread of infection, or everyone had died before they even had the chance to flee. It had to be one of the three.

[Sir! I see Alamo 3!]

Gyeoul gave the order at once.

“Gunner! Rake them with the secondary weapon! The aircraft’s bulletproof anyway! Aim as high as you can!”

[Aye, sir!]

The armored vehicle’s remote weapon station was not fitted only with a heavy machine gun. It also had a smaller-caliber secondary weapon, an M240, so they could switch firepower in situations like this.

In truth, given the attack aircraft’s defenses, firing the heavy machine gun would have been fine. But they were being careful because the aircraft had made an emergency landing. The order to aim as high as possible was a precaution against a fuel explosion.

‘If it was going to catch fire, it should’ve done so already...’

Gunfire poured onto the aircraft at the end of a fresh furrow off the road. The mutants clinging like leeches and hammering their heads against it peeled away in pieces like dead skin.

The engineering corps detachment’s vehicles spread left and right, suppressing the surrounding area. Kweeeek! The mutants shrieked viciously and scattered like wild dogs. The Humvees and armored vehicles that filled the gap struck the plague horde from behind.

Dark gray backs glistening in the night burst, tore open, and were punched through. Grenade fire blew them apart, while heavy machine-gun fire shredded and pierced them. Either kind of violence suited monsters well enough. From their rotted bodies, bones and organs spilled out in all directions.

Screeeech.

The eight-wheeled armored vehicle turned and came to a stop. Boom, boom boom. The mutants shoved aside were crushed without mercy. An armored military vehicle was already a weapon by sheer mass.

“Engineering corps, dismount. We secure the perimeter here.”

Taking the pilot and going back would be difficult. By now, the bridge they had just crossed would be a killing field, with the bottleneck growing worse.

After sending the radio message, Gyeoul opened the ramp door at the rear of the armored vehicle. The groans of the plague seeped in through the widening gap. A waist with burst entrails unwound like tangled thread lay under the armored vehicle’s wheels. The teeth clacking together sounded more like postmortem convulsions.

No need to use a gun. As he got out, Gyeoul stepped on its throat with the full weight of his combat boot and walked past. Crunch. From the neck flattened beneath his footprint, bone tore through flesh and jutted out.

Gyeoul was glad to feel the outside wind, even though the hot air was anything but refreshing. It felt as if his senses had opened wide. Sensory correction had truly expanded to an exceptional degree.

For platoon-scale command within a limited range, the armored vehicle’s command system was more hindrance than help. Relay and communications could be left to the two staff officers.

Looking back, he saw that the attack aircraft’s landing gear was still retracted. But even when retracted, the rear gear was built so that the wheels remained exposed. Thanks to that, although it had landed on its fuselage, its condition was fairly good. The wings were still attached, and the one engine that had avoided being hit also looked intact from the outside.

‘This much can be repaired.’

As far as Gyeoul knew, there had even been cases where two aircraft smashed almost beyond recognition had been assembled into one that looked as good as new. The field maintenance depot was nearby too. The David Task Force was also supposed to head there. Equipment fatigue had reached a dangerous level.

“Lockhart. Go check the cockpit.”

At Lieutenant Montgomery’s instruction, one engineering corps team moved. Four covered while one stepped onto a foothold and climbed up. The cockpit, much higher than a person’s head, had bulletproof glass so smeared with blood and organs that it was impossible to see inside.

“Ah, fuck. What do we do with this?”

They could not wipe it with their hands. The soldier hesitated, then poured water from a canteen onto the canopy. Blood and organs ran down, and the glass turned transparent. As expected, it was full of hairline cracks. The plague-ridden corpses had scratched at it so hard that sticky flesh was lodged in every thick split. Some cracks even held entire severed fingers. The frame was twisted and misaligned too. It really might have been dangerous if they had left it alone any longer...

‘Light? Smoke?’

Gyeoul saw a faint red glow burning beyond the thinned bloodwater. For a moment he thought it had gone out, but then it brightened again as if proving he had not imagined it. Smoke drifted inside the cockpit.

Tat tat tat tang! Gunfire rang out from the rear of the aircraft. But since 「Combat Sense」 gave only a faint warning, Gyeoul did not even look back. Right now, the pilot’s survival mattered more. Thump, thump. Engineering corps squad leader Lockhart knocked on the now somewhat cleaner window. A moment later, the pilot inside showed a pale face.

The source of the light and smoke seemed to be the cigar she had in her mouth.

Gyeoul, who had thought for a moment that it might be a fire, felt slightly deflated. Though the pilot’s complexion was poor, she was fully conscious. At first she looked startled, but soon she gave a small nod with a smile full of relief. The engineering corps soldier clicked his tongue, cupped both hands against the glass, and shouted.

“Radio! Can you communicate?!”

In case she did not understand, he pointed at his own radio. The pilot shook her head. No. Her mouth rounded as she formed the single syllable.

“Can you open the canopy?!”

“...?”

“This! Can you open it?!”

She shook her head.

“Are you hurt?!”

She nodded.

“Is it serious?!”

She shook her head.

For some reason, the communication felt both draining and oddly cute.

“Step back! We’re breaking it!”

After warning her several times, Sergeant Lockhart waited until the pilot pulled her upper body away, then reached a hand behind him.

“Halligan Bar!”

The tool he asked for was used for Door Breaching. It was a lump of steel that could bite into steel doors, so it should be able to break through cracked bulletproof glass somehow. If Gyeoul stepped in, it would be quick, but right now, perimeter security came first. Gyeoul turned toward the direction where his nerves prickled and fired five single shots with snap aim. Five mutants died, including one ghoul that had been loitering. It was too far for the soldiers to even see, so the engineering corps team guarding that direction grew tense for no clear reason.

“What the hell did he shoot?”

“I don’t know. Whatever it was, he killed it.”

The quiet exchange passed between them. Behind his back, heavy breaking sounds kept coming, thud, thunk. Smaller scattering sounds came between them.

“This thing’s hard as hell.”

The thick-armed engineering corps sergeant panted and cursed. “Keep it up, Sergeant.” The voice came from inside the cockpit through the broken Plexiglas gap. Cigar smoke drifted out through the shattered glass.

A few minutes later, a hole barely large enough for a person to pass through opened. The sergeant carefully helped the Alamo 3 pilot climb out in pain. The pilot seemed to have broken ribs. Every breath looked difficult. Compared to that, the blood running from her forehead was nothing serious.

Still, once she reached the ground, she stood on her own feet.

“I’m fine, Sergeant. I can walk. Thanks. But... you’re with the engineering corps?”

With the cigar still in her mouth, she gave him a suspicious look.

“I was surprised the rescue came so fast, but is this already the rear? Who’s in charge?”

“Over there.”

The lantern light swung around. The pilot looked past Montgomery and found Gyeoul. She narrowed her brow with an “Mm?” then saluted at attention as if she had forgotten the pain. The cigar that fell from her mouth rolled across the ground.

========== Author’s Note ==========

#Q&A

Q. no name: @(Opening omitted) If islands separated from continents, like Australia or Britain, succeed in suppressing mutants on their own, couldn’t they become something like stronghold bases for humanity? America also doesn’t have any land connected to it except South America, so if they bombed it like digging a canal and made themselves into an island... maybe they wouldn’t need to worry about South America either. Leaving aside whether it’s possible. If every mutant in an isolated Area A is eliminated, can mutants in other regions detect that abnormality?

A. The answer to the first question is that it is possible, and the answer to the second is that it is impossible.

Q. AntiChrist: @I’m curious how the noncombatants who used to be in the Gyeoul Alliance are doing. You said the future of characters is a secret, but are their current circumstances secret too? T_T

A. Yes, they are secret. Hahaha. Now, hurry up and suffer.

Q. Hoch: @I feel like most delivery food portions have gotten smaller lately. And when you calculate unit prices, there are a lot of things that are much cheaper if you make them yourself... If you can put up with the hassle, it’s nice to cook from recipes shown on TV programs too.

A. Exactly. They should either reduce portions and keep the price the same, or keep portions the same and raise the price. But when portions shrink and prices rise too, it really is unfortunate.

Q. qgegegqe: @I’ll look forward to seeing Gyeoul fight directly for the first time in a while!

A. The mutants are running away, so it won’t be anything particularly impressive.

Q. GreenTurtle: @Is it true that Skynet was actually made from author’s childlike innocence?

A. That is my entertainment console.

Q. Qvex: @Where do you find those military technologies? I’m surprised by the detailed descriptions every time I read them.

A. In America, most works produced by the state are open to the public. That is because they view the copyright to content created with citizens’ taxes as belonging to the citizens. So you only need to invest the time and effort to find and interpret them.

Q. Guaaaaak: (Opening omitted) @So, author, do you usually cook for yourself? Or do you tend to order delivery or eat at restaurants?

A. Before serializing, I used to make simple meals for myself, but now I don’t have the time, so I mostly eat delivery food.

Q. PoohWow: @I don’t think you need to be that concerned with realistic accuracy. Of course, that kind of detail isn’t bad, but it can look like obsession, and I think readers would prefer it if you focused on the work instead. And in the worst case, it might be misunderstood as showing off your knowledge. Let’s remember the precedent of Yoo Heonhwa, the author of Dungeon Defense.

A. The idea that I should focus on the work rather than realistic accuracy feels strange to me. That is because I find it unfamiliar to look at realistic accuracy and the work separately.

The realistic details I reveal to readers through the Author’s Note are only part of the full research. I mainly reveal them in cases where readers might find it interesting to know, like the sea-based ice cream factory; in cases where knowing it might help them feel the realism, like what the field of view through night vision is like; and finally, in cases where I want to minimize room for dispute.

You are right to point out that it may look like showing off knowledge or acting smug. If many readers feel that way, I will stop adding research-related content to the Author’s Note going forward.

Footnotes:

Join our discord at https://dsc.gg/wetried