WeTried Translations
Translator: Coughing Baby
Editor: Coughing Baby
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
Chapter 357: A Splendid Invitation (9)
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Even after his conversation with Sergeant Ellsworth ended, Gyeoul was not given a moment to himself. It was not only the notable figures who showed a deep interest in him, but the Medal of Honor recipients as well. Curiosity, competitiveness, interest, goodwill, respect, personal calculation, and reasonable doubt. Amid the overlapping approaches, Gyeoul naturally heard about their experiences, thoughts, and worries. Some were small personal stories, while others concerned the current state of the quarantine war.
The depletion of human resources was one of those concerns.
On that subject, two recipients from the regiment known as the 「Night Stalkers」, the Army Aviation branch's finest helicopter pilots, traded a few words.
"It's a serious problem. Units keep getting worn down, but replacements aren't coming in."
"We can't exactly bring in rookies fresh out of the course, sir. If we made kids who have never even pissed or shat themselves fly acrobatics like that night, we'd only crash a whole line of precious helicopters."
"Well, we're not the National Guard."
"That night" meant the night rescue operation carried out after General Yang Yongbin's nuclear attack. They had flown at high speed low enough to cling to the ground, all to avoid detection by walking radars, in other words, Tricksters. The idea itself was sound: use the folds of mountain terrain to conceal their noise and flight paths. But it had been a lethal acrobatic stunt where one wrong move could have wiped out the unit in an accident. They had repeated that kind of flight more than ten times in a single night, so it truly was an achievement worthy of the Medal of Honor.
'Still, since they were special forces, I guess they had proper EMP resistance... Otherwise, even one Trickster hiding in a valley could have been dangerous.'
Gyeoul recalled the battle in the old forest, the national park thick with sequoia trees. There, the Apache attack helicopter formation that had supported Gyeoul's cavalry, callsign Hammer Fall, had shown excellent defense against the Trickster's EMP. After that, improved equipment had begun reaching the Army as well.
The recipients who had naturally gathered around to listen sympathized with the pilots' conversation. Too many useless weaklings were showing up. There was a platoon leader who could not read coordinates properly. Friendly bombing by the Air Force had also increased noticeably. As the conversation drifted that way, officers dispatched from the public affairs office quietly stepped in.
"That's a problem. Please remember that this gathering is not made up of soldiers only."
There were civilian power brokers, and reporters sent by broadcasting companies too. The heroes, who had nearly crossed the line, smacked their lips and hid their awkwardness. Then they changed the mood as naturally as they could. They had more than enough war stories to pour out. A Marine Corporal who had returned from Japan spoke with practiced flair.
"The surviving zombie bastards were rushing us, and that was exactly when a cooking off happened. Wow, fuck... At the decisive moment, my gun went insane all by itself and emptied the whole magazine, and my head went blank right along with it."
Cooking off was one type of malfunction caused by overheating. When the chamber got hot, rounds fired one after another even without pulling the trigger. In Japan's hot, humid climate, it would have been even more likely to happen.
Since it was testimony about the day they escaped Japan, someone listening with fascination asked,
"So? How did you survive?"
"I beat them with the stock and stabbed them with the Bayonet, killed two of them that way. This guy here handled the rest with covering fire. Then he put a hole in my shoulder too, though."
The Marine he pointed at grumbled.
"If you survived in the end, isn't that what matters? You could at least thank me."
"Yeah! Thanks, you bastard! Real grateful! But it's still true that you can't shoot!"
"Ah, come on!"
The thanks with an added jab and the wounded reaction drew laughter from the audience. Maybe because they had crossed countless lines between life and death together, the two of them seemed very close.
One officer added,
"Overheating is definitely a real problem. Especially for scared and inexperienced new recruits. Combat itself has changed from what it used to be... Still, we can't remove the burst function from rifles in a fight against mutants either."
A consensus formed again, but no other agreeing opinions followed. The public affairs officers had put on the most pitiful expressions they could manage. Complaints about weapons systems were another factor that undermined trust in the military. Even more so if those complaints came from the Company of heroes.
Gyeoul agreed too. Just as the officer said, compared to the old days, meaning the days when people fought people, the nature of combat really had changed completely.
'Mutant offensives are built around numbers that overwhelm this side.'
And those numbers charged like mad. Durability beyond humans, speed beyond humans. The complex fear created by those factors distorted the senses of soldiers going into battle. The distance between enemy and ally felt shorter than it really was. So they fired bursts in a panic.
One of the weaknesses of the standard rifle, the M4, was how quickly it overheated.
Even during the old Afghanistan War, there had been a case where troops responding to a Taliban night attack nearly suffered disaster when a barrel burst. That happened even though they had been firing while repeatedly taking cover and concealment. In the short, violent engagements against mutants, the danger was much higher.
The cooking off mentioned by the Marine Corporal was the same. This mainly happened with support weapons that held a lot of ammunition, but rifles were not completely free of it either.
'Especially if they're used with suppressors attached.'
There was a reason Gyeoul paid attention to the state of soldiers' firearms during combat.
Captain Emmert said,
"Personally, I'm looking forward to the arms fair they say will be held in D.C."
Gyeoul had also been notified about it as part of the upcoming schedule.
"Do you mean the quarantine war expo hosted by the Association of the United States Army?"
"Yes. They said we'd have a chance to look around after the award ceremony. Will you be attending too?"
"Yes. Of course."
"We might see some improved items there. Personal firearms, tanks, armored vehicles... Now that the front has stabilized, they won't need to keep churning out Humvees forever. They should have enough room to start changing production lines."
Even before Morgellons, the AUSA expo had been close to an exhibition for new weapons.
People from arms companies had already handed Gyeoul business cards over this. Even if he had no official authority, if a famous war hero spoke highly of their company's product, the chance of it actually being adopted would rise by that much. In a similar vein, weapons companies sometimes ran advertisements aimed at citizens.
By the time the breakfast gathering was in full swing, Gyeoul had taken many photos, exchanged many handshakes, and received even more temptations. Those temptations were divided into personal and official ones.
"Fifty million dollars?"
When Gyeoul reacted as if he was fairly surprised, the person calling himself an executive of a private military company smiled.
"That is correct. To be precise, the signing bonus alone is fifty million dollars. If you sign a contract stating that after your future discharge or retirement, you will serve at our United Security Service for three years, fifty million dollars will be deposited into Lieutenant Colonel Han's account immediately."
The executive emphasized the amount, fifty million dollars, again and again.
'Is this an offer they're throwing out because they're sure I'll refuse?'
It was natural for Gyeoul to suspect that. Unless someone lived with their ears plugged, a military company executive should have heard at least something about Gyeoul's disposition and political future...
If the purpose was to attract attention, it had already succeeded. The camera shutters were loud. Tomorrow, there would be an article with a headline like this: Lieutenant Colonel Han Gyeoul Receives Massive Contract Offer from PMC. The larger the amount, the more likely it was to become a topic.
"Have you not considered that I might die in action before then?"
At Gyeoul's question, the executive answered as if it were no big deal.
"Then we'll consider it a donation."
"..."
"Haha. I know that sounds too blunt... At that point, we can simply consider it a slightly expensive advertising expense. Our company always deals with the finest clients. And I don't think someone as loved by God as you will easily die in action."
"Loved by God..."
"Haven't you overcome near-death moments more than once? Luck is a skill too."
"..."
"You look rather uninterested."
"Honestly, I am. It's also too vague when that would even happen."
"Hmm. Well, you are someone who generously donated 2.3 million dollars..."
The 2.3 million dollars referred to the proceeds from selling the gifts Gyeoul had put toward the defense donation fund. Originally, the amount had been higher, but after deducting the broker's fee and other related expenses, that much had remained.
The executive trailed off, then smiled once more.
"Still, please consider it positively. Even taking your future into account, it may become a surprisingly good career. As I said, our company deals with the finest clients. With those connections and that experience, could you not start a company yourself, Lieutenant Colonel? You could provide jobs for refugees and guarantee their treatment in this industry... Wow, this is really a fine idea."
At the sight of him admiring his own words, Gyeoul did not hide his suspicion this time.
"I doubt any company in the world would want a competitor to appear."
"Oh dear."
The military company executive shook his head.
"I have ears too. To you, this business will ultimately be no more than a gateway you pass through. We only need to endure for a few years. Ordinary contract terms tend to be around that long anyway."
At the words gateway you pass through, Gyeoul understood the context. Whether money, connections, or experience running a company, he was telling Gyeoul to prepare the foundation for entering politics.
Yet Gyeoul still did not know where that confidence came from. It was true that a public official could not also serve as the head of a private company. But even if Gyeoul left, an already established company would not simply disappear.
'There's no reason to rush anyway.'
Gyeoul decided to put off judgment.
"If you leave your contact information, I'll think about it and call you."
"Please do."
"I will be waiting."
The executive handed him his business card. United Security Service Vice President, Clifford Don Robinson. Compared to Korean corporate ranks, he was about a managing director.
After breakfast ended, the Company of heroes toured the city's major tourist spots one by one. Of course, just as expected, it was far from simple sightseeing.
As he looked down over the city from a helicopter, Gyeoul acted as if no cameras were there.
"The walls are very impressive. Safety measures inside the city are solid too... It would be hard for an infection-related accident to break out here."
It would be hard for an accident to break out. That one sentence was exactly what the local notables wanted.
"You said there used to be tours of the quarantine front too, right?"
This was Gyeoul's real question. The guide nodded.
"Yes! People would ride a light aircraft and fly straight west or south, look around a bit, then come back. They couldn't leave the airspace above the safe zone, but it was quite popular. In a way, I suppose it was a product similar to a haunted house. Thanks to the people who wanted that kind of thing, we managed not to starve to death all this time. The ladies were generally satisfied, but many of the men were disappointed. Hahaha!"
The guide, laughing heartily into the headset, was a civilian, but wore clothes similar to combat fatigues. It was nothing especially unusual. These days, survivalist elements were popular in every field. There had even been a miniskirt released with a digital camouflage pattern.
After circling the city counterclockwise, the helicopter soon turned east.
It did not take long after that to arrive at their destination.
"Here we are. It was a pleasure to have you aboard, even if only for a short while."
Gyeoul said farewell to the guide. He would not take the helicopter on the way back.
"Xcel!"
The black stallion of the Friesian breed smelled Gyeoul and became wildly excited. He shook off the person holding his reins and ran over, then leaked urine while bouncing around nearby.
The others who had arrived early for the cavalry march each brought their own horses over. Seeing Gyeoul look troubled, Colonel Emmert laughed.
"That's something. The horse is acting like a dog."
Then he murmured, "Well, I suppose he is no ordinary owner." Even an animal might feel something more special for an owner it had shared life and death with.
Footnotes:
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