WeTried Translations
Translator: Coughing Baby
Editor: Coughing Baby
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
Chapter 453: Stuffed Paradise (15)
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This was a new kind of stress. Back when he had extended his afterlife because he hated the thought of his older sister withering after him, back when he already considered himself dead, he had never been seized by such deep doubt. Why was he only now, after all this time, growing so weary?
Gyeoul already knew the answer.
He felt suffocated because he wanted to live longer.
The turning point had been the spring that came to Gyeoul through the promise of a single star, and in another sense, his love for Anne. It was the process of a stuffed specimen coming back to life. To live was, first of all, to protect oneself. The way he had set aside his pity for the outside world when proposing to Anne was one example.
The unrest in Philadelphia was a sign that this world had begun walking the road to the outside world in earnest. The world he would live in with Anne would rapidly come to resemble the world out there.
If someone called that the natural result of a world where people lived, if they said the stage of humanity had always been built to tilt that way, Gyeoul would find it hard to accept. No, rather than hard, it was closer to something he simply hated.
After thinking it over, Gyeoul decided he had to try as much as he could. For the protesters using Gyeoul as an excuse to loot, rob, kill, and set fires, there would be no better sedative than Gyeoul himself. It was the fastest, surest way to calm the situation.
‘Their intent was clear from the moment they notified me that training would resume tomorrow...’
They said there was an assassination threat, but soldiers were meant to protect, not be protected.
Yet the people above had decided not to use Gyeoul to settle this unrest. Gyeoul understood it less as protection for him and more as active neglect of the situation.
Would the leadership of the military and political world truly not know? That the chance of the terrorist attack’s true purpose being an attempt on Gyeoul’s life was extremely slim? But political gain and loss, and an even greater anti-Chinese sentiment, must have made them look away from the truth.
Rather than embracing an ethnic minority that would remain a constant source of instability, it would be better to use this incident as a pretext for some decisive measure. That was surely the calculation.
Sometimes people got swept up in their own agitation.
Gyeoul first submitted a request through the formal chain of command, asking to be deployed to the site of the unrest. The result, as expected, was rejection. He did not stop there and submitted the same opinion through another route. By another route, he meant someone who would consider himself Lieutenant Colonel Han Gyeoul’s sponsor.
‘There won’t be any more chances for me to fight anyway.’
It was not the first time he had thought this. Gyeoul’s premonition was close to certainty.
There was also the option of letting this pass for now and changing society later through political effort. But this moment was, so to speak, the moment a levee began to collapse. For now, it could still be blocked with a hoe or a shovel. A plague had fewer victims when it was suppressed early.
Besides, as time passed, the hoe called respect and affection for Lieutenant Colonel Han Gyeoul would rust away.
Gyeoul’s laptop chimed, announcing the arrival of a new message.
「Lt Gen. Rogers: Lieutenant Colonel. For better or worse, you truly do not change at all.」
The text that appeared on the intranet messenger was a rebuke from Lieutenant General Rogers.
「Lt Gen. Rogers: No matter how much a proposal may be born of goodwill and self-sacrifice, bypassing existing discipline and the chain of command is hardly exemplary conduct for an officer.」
「I apologize.」
「Lt Gen. Rogers: Especially when it puts you personally in danger. Surely you know that the current policy has POTUS (President)’s tacit consent behind it?」
「I do.」
「Lt Gen. Rogers: Even knowing that, is there a reason you must go this far?」
In the end, it was concern.
His rank was still lieutenant general, but Rogers’ position had risen since Operation Roaring Storm. He had been promoted into the Joint Chiefs of Staff and become Director for Strategic Plans and Policy.
The Joint Chiefs of Staff was a political battlefield where the interests of the Army, Navy, and Air Force clashed sharply. Even its lack of military command authority did not diminish its status. Since Rogers had entered such a place, Rogers’s concern had to rest on firmer ground.
Gyeoul tapped at the keyboard.
「I consider this an initial response.」
「Lt Gen. Rogers: Meaning if we do not act now, it will be too late?」
「It is already late, but would it not be better than not even trying? Burned ruins can be rebuilt, but a charred person cannot be brought back to life. If left alone, chaos will start exploiting its gains.」
Gyeoul described chaos as though it were an enemy with a will of its own.
Most casualties in combat were not caused when the front line was breached, but when additional attacks were made through the breach.
It was a metaphor suited to a soldier.
「Lt Gen. Rogers: Hmm...」
Rogers also had eyes to see the world. He had the experience and discernment fitting a general too. The only unknown territory for Gyeoul was how Rogers viewed Chinese-American citizens.
「Lt Gen. Rogers: Do you remember what I told you in Olema?」
「Which part do you mean?」
「Lt Gen. Rogers: The part where I said we are not gods.」
「Yes. I remember.」
「Lt Gen. Rogers: It seems to me that you need faith. Judging by the state of the world, whether a god truly exists is questionable, but it is also true that human effort alone cannot achieve what you want.」
“...”
Gyeoul let out a short sigh. Even though their personal friendship could not exactly be called deep, the lieutenant general’s Insight had pierced through the world Gyeoul saw.
「Lt Gen. Rogers: In any case, I will try as much as I can. At the very least, your request is not driven by impure motives. But.」
「Please say it.」
「Lt Gen. Rogers: Let me make this clear. This is help I am giving only because you are my comrade. I have no intention of putting your name on my resume.」
He meant that Gyeoul should not misunderstand his intent. Since Rogers had been promoted through Gyeoul’s petition, he could not help being sensitive to such issues. Many people must have asked him about his connection with Gyeoul too.
Lately, many generals with no direct relationship to Gyeoul had shown a favorable attitude toward him. Respect and affection for a war hero were of course the foundation, but at the same time, it was also part of preparing for job hunting after leaving or retiring from service.
After discharge or retirement, generals who had spent their lives as soldiers had one of three career paths: enter politics, take a purely nominal position in an organization related to the military, or join a private company as an outside director. Of these, the first and last valued their potential as lobbyists.
This was also a matter tied to the generals’ self-esteem. After standing at the peak of the military for so long, they did not want to become old men shoved into a back room overnight. It would not be strange for them to fall into depression. Even more so once they were compared to colleagues who had successfully begun a second life.
So a relationship with Gyeoul was more than enough to be regarded by generals as a credential for the future.
In other words, it meant many generals were considering discharge or retirement once the quarantine war effectively came to an end.
It was safe to say that America, which had suffered from a severe shortage of senior officers throughout the quarantine war, would not drive out active generals en masse in the name of military cuts.
But a reduction in important posts was unavoidable, and because of that, it would become difficult to treat the generals who remained on active duty in a satisfying way. At best, the government would mass-produce nominal positions as if copying and pasting them, then seat the generals there like decorations. Their pay would be adjusted in some form too.
So if the generals themselves left in search of better treatment, the government had no reason to stop them.
‘They can simply designate them as reservists and mobilize them in an emergency.’
For the government, it allowed insurance to be maintained at a lower cost. For the generals, it allowed them to enjoy a better world in a peaceful age. Was it not a satisfying choice for both sides?
And to someone, that view could be shameful or insulting. Especially the possibility that a comrade might see him that way.
The message updated.
「Lt Gen. Rogers: So stay quiet and wait for now. This is an order. I will not tolerate any more behavior unbecoming of a soldier.」
Again, the Joint Chiefs of Staff had no military command authority. Therefore, Rogers had no authority to give him an order. Even so, he deliberately used the word order because he was demanding a personal guarantee from Gyeoul. Break it, and you will lose my trust.
Gyeoul replied.
「Sir. I consider it an honor to be your comrade.」
「Lt Gen. Rogers: That is enough. Once the year changes, let us have a drink.」
Those were the words of a man who did not enjoy drinking.
Gyeoul had chosen Rogers as the person to contact because Gyeoul trusted Rogers’s character and competence, and also because of the nature of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, where Rogers belonged. Its authority was vague, but the range it interfered in was extremely wide. It had been an advisory body for the President from the start.
With Rogers’ personality, there was also a chance Rogers would go through the formal chain of command and try to persuade the President outright. Even if he had risen through rapid promotions, Rogers was still a general. He would have political capital to spend at times like this.
Gyeoul waited without sleeping.
As the night deepened, the TV in the dark room showed the bloodshed growing more and more severe. Crash! A Molotov cocktail shattered, and flames surged up. The store swallowed by fire had already been looted and emptied long ago. A body that appeared to have been a member of the Chinese-American vigilantes hung from the broken window. The wall beneath it was covered in bloodstains drying thickly.
Broadcast helicopters and drones crossed the city streets at low altitude.
Car alarms rang out all across the city. Since the Chinatown vigilantes had been pushed back one block from the eastern boundary by inferior numbers, the shouts of looting were louder than gunfire for now. Vigilantes unlucky enough to fail to retreat in time were lynched on the road. New corpses lay sprawled on the cold asphalt. By now, it was not a new sight.
Sometimes there were reporters covering these hellish streets on foot. Before it was an act of courage, it was possible because the protesters who had turned into rioters were not hostile even to reporters. The protesters had a cause. That cause placed the barest restraint on their actions. They welcomed cameras, worked hard to justify themselves through that cause, and even protected reporters.
While changing channels, Gyeoul found a familiar face.
‘...Mr. Martineau?’
Gilbert Martineau. He was one of the embedded press members rescued in Olema. He might be useful. After thinking for a moment, Gyeoul checked the station logo and found his contact information. It would have been better if they had exchanged contact information in advance. Since he was basically a journalist, caution was necessary, but he would not act carelessly toward Gyeoul, who had saved his life. When Gyeoul rescued him, he had practically worshiped him.
Soon after, Lieutenant General Rogers’ final reply arrived.
Along with an order issued under the name of Special Operations Command.
The order instructed him to take over the National Guard and police forces at the scene and join the suppression of the unrest. It clearly stated which units he was to take over, where, from whom, how, their scale, the time, the method, and even the means of movement.
Gyeoul did not know what methods Rogers had used or what strain he had accepted to produce this order, but for now, the best thing to do was use it with gratitude.
1:30 a.m. Logan Square, west of Chinatown.
“When I heard you were coming, I ran here like I was about to die.”
Martineau, who had arrived at Gyeoul’s designated rendezvous point on time, panted like someone on the verge of death. His staff, unchanged from before, were the same. The road conditions were a mess, so they must have had trouble using a vehicle properly.
‘They still could have called a helicopter.’
Had headquarters refused helicopter support, or had they kept it secret even from headquarters in case their scoop was stolen? Either way, it did not matter. Gyeoul exchanged greetings with them all.
“It has been a while, Mr. Martineau. Kaa, Klein.”
“You... remember... my name...”
Kaa was moved. The reaction was the same as ever.
But they were not the only ones who had come looking for Gyeoul.
“Lieutenant Colonel!”
Gyeoul raised a hand and had the soldiers lower their guard. It was a voice he knew.
“Miss Tamiris? I didn’t know you were here too.”
The new arrivals were Helen Tamiris, also once part of the embedded press, and her cameraman.
Martineau, who had recovered his breath a little, smiled tiredly.
“I tipped her off.”
“You wanted to share the scoop?”
“Well, she is not a competitor within the same company... More than anything, she is a friend who shared life and death with me. Since we both knew the other was in this city, and we were both helped by you, Lieutenant Colonel, I did not want to hear about it later.”
“I see.”
Two trustworthy reporters. That could only be good.
“I am very glad to see you, but we have no time to spare. Today, I need your help.”
At Gyeoul’s words, Martineau asked,
“I can roughly guess, but I still need to confirm. Is there anything you specifically want from us besides what you asked for over the call?”
“No. I only ask for a neutral attitude.”
“You can rest easy on that.”
He grinned. He understood that the mere sight of Gyeoul being broadcast after deploying to Philadelphia would be enough to change the course of this riot.
‘It would be stranger for a journalist not to know the power of media.’
While Gyeoul gave orders for the movement and deployment of the troops accompanying him, Martineau and Tamiris followed with quick steps and asked their prepared questions.
“The dominant analysis says the recent bombing was carried out by a Yang Yongbin supporter targeting you, Lieutenant Colonel. Despite that, how do you feel about receiving an order to protect Chinatown?”
Gyeoul acted as though he did not know the background of the order.
“I think it is a natural order. The military’s duty is to protect citizens.”
“Even though there may be terrorists among them?”
“There is no evidence, and if that is true, then we need to protect the citizens even more. It would mean terrorists have hidden among good citizens.”
“Do you have anything to say to the residents of Philadelphia who may be watching this broadcast?”
“The military and police will do everything possible to restore order in the city. Residents, please trust us and wait in a safe place until the situation stabilizes.”
As this scene went out over the airwaves, citizens who identified the location from the background on screen began to gather. Most of those citizens had been marching through the streets as protesters until just moments ago. If they had not already been out in the streets to begin with, there was no way they could have arrived this quickly.
At the same time, the majority who knew they had something to be ashamed of scattered in shock, as if burned. They were the forces that had become rioters in the true sense.
As attention focused on Gyeoul, the frequency of gunshots decreased sharply.
‘Something this simple...’
Gyeoul felt like sighing.
Of course, there was no guarantee that there were no real Yang Yongbin supporters near Chinatown, so the risk of a sniper remained. But gunfire aimed at Gyeoul was not necessarily a bad thing. If the scene of that person being arrested was broadcast, they could use it as material to muddy the waters.
Beyond the police control line, citizens murmured.
“Look! Lieutenant Lee Yura is here too!”
“She really is. But where’s the tiger-skin cloak?”
Hearing that, Yura’s face flushed with embarrassment.
Footnotes:
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