I Have Returned, but I Cannot Lay down My Gun

Chapter 664

"…Ah."

The cold air enveloped the room, and the pungent smell of blood rose.

Her head throbbed painfully, her eyes stung from all the tears, and her throat was so sore that it was hard to even breathe in and out. Her body felt completely drained, and she was on the verge of vomiting.

The blankets were thickly piled around her, obscuring her vision as the darkness engulfed the room. Eugene struggled to free herself from the covers, fighting through the intense feeling of helplessness that gripped her.

The instant the cold air hit her skin, she rushed into the bathroom.

Sleep had only been a brief escape, but now the sharp shards of memories were violently raking through her mind.

"Cough, ugh, huff...!"

Since she hadn't eaten properly, only yellow liquid came out, but nothing could be seen. There was only darkness.

She didn’t even know what time it was. The only clue was the occasional switch between day and night that allowed her to roughly estimate the passage of time.

It had been a day or maybe two since she last ate, but the hunger was less painful than the searing headache and the overwhelming emotions that surged each time she regained her senses.

All she wanted was to see her mom and dad.

"...Please, someone..."

Every time she intermittently woke up, she begged to some unknown entity.

She knew no one could pull her out of this hell. It was something only she could do.

Yes. She knew that.

But to someone who had already half given up, these thoughts didn’t reach her.

As soon as she stepped out of the mess of blankets, a cold, biting chill crept over her. The world around her still felt unbearably cold, and her mind was spiraling downward.

Fragments of thoughts, barely even forming coherent sentences, scattered before her eyes. Countless unanswered questions and self-accusations poked at her body and mind.

'...You’re a murderer.'

"...No... I didn’t... I didn’t want to kill..."

But she had killed.

The bodies of the escaped prisoners, still scattered down the hallway, remained like trash. The fresh, red blood that had spilled from them was already frozen solid.

'...Look at this. No one’s going to help you. You’re going to die here, alone, without knowing where your parents are. Just like the people you killed.'

"...Please..."

If someone could just dig out her ears and silence these tormenting hallucinations...

If someone could remove her eyes to stop the horrific visions...

The dead, their faces twisted beyond recognition, haunted her with whispered curses. Her hands and feet trembled uncontrollably, and it was hard to breathe.

The thoughts, no, the curse known as thinking, began spiraling, feeding into each other, growing deeper and sinking further into the abyss. Once a hallucination had formed, it didn’t take long for it to breed something new.

In this moment, Eugene was clearly mentally dying.

But sometimes, even within the chaos of these hallucinations, a new spark would emerge.

'...All your desperate attempts to survive will be for nothing. Everything that man gave you will dissipate like it never existed...'

"..."

At that moment.

Eugene, without even realizing it, raised her head from beneath the blankets.

For just a moment, the hallucinations and delusions stopped. The premise that the entire world was out to kill her, curse her, cracked. A memory, buried deep in the abyss, rose to the surface in an instant.

Before a life’s flame goes out, that man—Sergeant Baker—had entrusted everything to her, a person he didn’t even know. He hadn’t attached much meaning to it. He had simply wished for Eugene to survive.

"Survive," "Don’t die." That will to live hadn’t ignited her spirit, because this place was a land where the living envied the dead.

But—

"...That man..."

Even if he was already dead, even if he was already frozen in the cold, like those escapees she killed—no, far colder than them, frozen outside, his body left unnoticed under the snow, Eugene wished he wouldn’t be treated the same way.

At least, she didn’t want him to receive that kind of treatment.

As her thoughts aligned with the desire not to see the person who had helped her discarded like trash, Eugene’s next move was clear.

It was the moment she decided to leave the blankets on her own accord after two days.

"Ugh...!"

She didn’t know who she might encounter outside, so she bundled up as much as possible and went out, once again confronted by the bodies of the escapees sprawled in the hallway. There were six of them.

Just a few minutes ago, she couldn’t bear to look at this horrifying scene, but as her mind steadied, Eugene flipped one of the bodies over and grabbed the firearm that had been lying next to it.

It was an M4 rifle, the kind often seen in American action films, along with two bloodstained magazines, thankfully not soaked through.

With the gun in hand, Eugene made her way to the roof, passing the third floor. The night sky was unusually clear, without a hint of cloud, and there was no wind. The stars were so bright it almost felt painful to look at.

After crossing the roof, she headed toward the small square she had last seen, scanning the surroundings.

And how long had it been?

"...Huh?"

The square, unlike what she had imagined, was not as she expected.

The square was somewhat cleaned, though not completely. But the supplies that had been piled on the truck were now neatly stored nearby.

To figure out what had happened, Eugene cautiously descended the ladder. She heard the soft creaking of the rungs as she descended, still wary of the surroundings.

As she approached the square, she realized it wasn’t as completely cleaned as she had thought.

"This is..."

There were large and small belongings and clothes scattered in a small pile, covered in snow, but that wasn’t the most important thing.

At the center of the pile was a wooden log, standing upright like a cross. It was unmistakably a cross.

The meaning of this was clear.

Someone had gathered the bodies of the victims here and set up a simple grave with a cross on top.

Plop.

Eugene silently sat down, wiping the tears that had formed on her sleeve.

"...I’m glad... I’m glad, sob..."

It wasn’t simply that someone had respectfully dealt with Sergeant Baker’s body.

The small cross in front of her was proof that, even in this horrific world, there were people who could pray for the peace of others.

If she had stayed locked away inside, she might never have found this. This world, as cold and terrible as it seemed, might still hold warmth, and the desire for a dignified, noble death.

That alone gave Eugene an immense sense of comfort.

She sighed.

The cold breath left her mouth like a waterfall, but as she stopped crying, she no longer looked around with the same desperate eyes.

What was certain was that she had found a reason to survive here.

And in that moment,

"...Ugh."

The hunger that she had forgotten about hit her like a wave.

Eugene didn’t hesitate. She gathered up the survival supplies scattered around, as if they had been intentionally placed for someone to find.

And before long, near the place she had been staying, the bodies of six escapees were discarded on the roadside.

The sounds of crunching and sniffing continued until dawn.

"...Ah."

It was the end of January, rare for the snowstorm to stop, revealing a clear night sky. Eugene, waking up with swollen eyes from the cold, crawled out from under the pile of blankets. Her appearance was disheveled, but she reached for the automatic rifle propped against the wall, aiming it at her surroundings. No one was there.

The past two days, terrifying as they had been, had passed. And another two days had gone by. But compared to before, Eugene's expression had changed dramatically. At least, there was no longer despair in her eyes.

Anxiety and fear remained, but Eugene had learned a simple lesson from what happened just two days ago—no, it wasn’t that she hadn’t known it before; she had only now truly felt it in her body.

That was why her expression had changed.

"...If I don’t act, nothing will change."

Knowing something and putting it into action were completely different things.

She realized this a bit too late, but fortunately, there was no deadline in this world. So, the first thing Eugene did was focus on restoring her condition to its peak.

Luckily, after eating and sleeping properly, her body recovered without much issue. But what lay ahead was more than just physical recovery. Being physically prepared was only the minimum.

Eugene would go outside and try to find other friendly people.

Thankfully, one of the necessary preparations was already in place.

'...Thank you, Sergeant Baker.'

The map he had.

Because of that map, Eugene finally realized where she was—it was the Mapleton area of Brooklyn. Though she'd never heard of Mapleton, she knew Brooklyn was in the United States.

It was hard to believe she'd fallen into this place with her current body, but complaining now wouldn't change anything.

The map detailed various significant locations in the Brooklyn area.

Naturally, all the information was in English, but through the surroundings and context, Eugene could deduce where she was and, more importantly, where the U.S. military might be stationed.

Her destination was a hospital located a few kilometers to the northwest of her current position.

In addition to that, there was another crucial piece of information.

"...It looks like the road to Manhattan is partially blocked."

The bridge marked with an X. It seemed that for some reason, it was blocked off.

However, the most critical information was elsewhere—the yellow areas marked on the map and the word "QUARANTINE." Initially, she didn’t understand it, but after traveling around the area, Eugene could guess what it meant.

The biological hazard symbol and the gas mask next to the word were clear indicators.

Signs that read "No Entry" surrounded certain stores and buildings, naturally directing her to turn back.

Thanks to that, Eugene realized why this world was only half destroyed.

'...A virus.'

The Omega Virus, it seemed, was the cause of everything.

Eugene let out a deep sigh, thinking about the goal of finding a friendly soldier. She began to pack her duffel bag. She didn’t know how long she would be out, so she needed to prepare for whatever was ahead.

Along with the attachment she had formed for the blankets and food here, she gathered water, food, and the all-important hand warmers. She would not survive long without them in this cold.

Her body was far from suited for surviving the winter, but staying in place wouldn’t result in someone coming to rescue her. Eugene no longer believed this world would offer help.

She packed everything she would need.

But—

"...I can't believe I'm carrying this."

A gun.

A military assault rifle, no less.

And in her pockets, a handgun and spare magazines, along with the gear worn by the prisoners.

The bulletproof vest with plates inside was heavier than expected.

The fully loaded magazines felt heavier than she had imagined.

Fortunately, she wasn’t unfamiliar with firearms. The holographic sights, flashlights, laser sights, and the unfamiliar stock on the assault rifle didn’t feel as foreign to her as they might have to someone else.

The only downside was that she had only two spare magazines.

It felt almost like she had returned to her military days.

"...How did I end up like this?"

There was no company commander who had been responsible for the shooting orders.

No noncommissioned officer standing by to prevent safety accidents. There had been no check on the magazines before starting the shooting, no need to report if a malfunction occurred, and no safety inspections needed.

Everything that happened after pulling the trigger was her responsibility.

But for some reason, now that she was fully prepared... maybe something was still possible. Eugene thought this to herself as she stood up.

'...I’ve only been here for a few days, but already, I’m afraid to leave.'

It wasn’t exactly cozy or warm, but this was the first shelter that had allowed her to survive.

Now, it was time to leave.

Eugene carefully opened the door and crossed the dark hallway. Every step she took on the frozen bloodstains crackled, and she cautiously opened the front door.

Under the cloudless, clear night sky, Brooklyn was frozen, with no wind. A lone figure began crossing the street.

"Well..."

She didn’t know how many others were hiding here besides herself, but that was no longer something Eugene needed to worry about.

The horrible memories of Mapleton slowly receded. Without a single glance behind her, she disappeared from the first shelter, her first step into the unknown.

Eugene had made her first move.