I Have Returned, but I Cannot Lay down My Gun

Chapter 665

"Ugh, it's so cold... Mom... Dad..."

4:00 AM, -17°C.

Amid the eerie silence and bone-chilling cold, a solitary figure struggles through the city.

The thick blanket of snow, the anxiety of not knowing what might emerge from the surroundings, and the intense cold, not to mention the contaminated zones marked on the map—zones that Eugene had never actually navigated by map alone.

All these factors continued to slow Eugene's pace.

"...Should I have moved when it was a little warmer... ugh..."

Even with a mind that wouldn't function properly, Eugene understood well enough that this was not a good plan.

If she had roamed alone in broad daylight, it would have been inevitable that someone inside a building would spot her. Especially here in the U.S., where getting a gun was shockingly easy.

Even with some armament, if she were to get shot in the head on the road, she would be finished.

Moreover, there was an advantage to her choice of traveling at night—her eyesight was remarkably sharp compared to ordinary people.

Even in the complete absence of light, Eugene could distinguish objects and the outlines of roads with remarkable clarity in the darkness. This was precisely why she decided to move at night.

Of course, the advantage would gradually fade once the sun rose.

She was battling the cold.

"...I-I hope my tail doesn’t freeze off..."

How did a snake-like tail end up attached to her body? Fortunately, thanks to several heat packs she had activated and attached to herself, the tail had not frozen yet, and Eugene sighed in relief as she pulled out her map and surveyed her surroundings.

The scene around her, seemingly void of color, was incredibly dull, likely due to the falling snow. Without checking the map intermittently, she could have easily ended up on the wrong path, but thankfully, that didn’t happen.

But cold was still cold.

At first, she had been walking while aiming her gun, but less than an hour later, she was trembling, clutching her arms tightly, struggling to move toward her destination.

The closest destination on the map was the Maymoniz Medical Center. It was a large block-sized hospital near Brooklyn's Borough Park. However, the map indicated it as a Temporary HQ.

She recognized that abbreviation from FPS games—HQ meant headquarters, at least that much was clear.

However, no matter how long she walked, the distance hardly seemed to shrink. It was shrinking, but Eugene’s body was nearing its limit before it could even process the reduction.

The sun had risen, but the sunlight did nothing to alleviate the cold.

She had layered her clothes to the point where she could barely move, wrapping her tail as well, but the cold still relentlessly gripped her. To make matters worse, her stomach was growling. The energy expenditure due to the cold had increased her calorie needs drastically.

How much time had passed? Dizzy and weak, she had no trouble crawling into a nearby tall building. It had been too cold and her hunger had driven her to take refuge.

Because of the virus crisis, all doors were more or less open, and Eugene decided to rest near a building not far from the Medical Center.

"Ugh, huff, cough...!"

As the cold grew harsher, her body began to fail. Her metabolism slowed, and the food in her stomach stopped digesting. She could feel the familiar signs of nausea creeping in.

She struggled to press a hand warmer against her stomach and quickly rummaged through her bag.

From her duffel bag, a horribly tasteless MRE popped out, but to Eugene, who had mostly lost her sense of taste, the more urgent need was for a heat pack.

Several minutes passed. As she finally grabbed a heat pack, she managed to swallow some warm food and wrapped the now cooling heat pack in a towel.

She rolled her beloved blanket around herself, cautiously holding the towel close. It was better than freezing to death or burning.

With the warmth came the sound of quiet sobs echoing in the empty building.

After some time, feeling the warmth seep into her body and her drowsiness take over, Eugene leaned against the cold wall and started to drift off, slowly falling into a light sleep.

Just as she was finally getting a break from her battle with the cold and replenishing her strength, a loud gunshot rang out from outside.

It was close.

—Thudthudthudthud!

"Eek...!"

Eugene immediately threw away the now lukewarm heat pack and grabbed the gun hanging from her side, sluggishly checking her surroundings.

Even through the closed windows, the sound of gunfire was clearly audible. It couldn't be more than 100 to 200 meters away, and she realized that the shots were coming from near her destination.

Eugene hurriedly left the building. Her mind raced with conflict, but she knew exactly what had to be done. In order to survive in this world, she had to meet soldiers and see what was happening.

A little while later, when she reached the vicinity of the battle, she witnessed the situation firsthand.

"Push! Push them back! Wipe those idiots out!"

"Set up a perimeter! Damn escapees are occupying the area near the hospital building and attacking the temporary HQ!"

Soldiers in greyish military uniforms and escapees in orange prison jumpsuits were exchanging gunfire.

The next moment, Eugene realized she was in an advantageous position to attack the escapees, and she made her way toward a nearby vehicle, lying flat on the cold snowy ground. It was the most precise shooting method.

She didn’t know exactly what was happening, but one thing was clear.

The bad guys were attacking something.

The action was swift.

"Die, you bastards...!"

She had no mercy for the enemies who had brought her such horrible memories.

She pulled the trigger, and one escapee fell, blood splattering as they hit the ground.

The situation began to shift in a strange direction.

"The enemy is trying to enter via the children's hospital and the parking lot!"

"Evacuate the civilians! Make sure those damn escapees don’t lay a finger on them!"

"Urgent communication from NYU Langone Hospital! The Brooklyn military docks and terminals are under attack too!"

"...The terminal is only 2 km away from here. First, we push these damn rioters into the Hudson Bay! Deploy machine guns in every corridor!"

Captain Parkwson, leading the 107th Military Police Company under the 104th Military Police Battalion of the New York National Guard, issued orders with bloodshot eyes from within the command center.

His grayish military uniform was disheveled as if he hadn’t changed it in a while, and he hadn’t removed his gear either. The sounds of gunfire were incessant from outside, and the CCTV screens, powered by the hospital generator, displayed scenes from within.

Escapees in orange jumpsuits were storming in. There were at least two full companies of them, and no one could understand where they had come from.

But what was certain was that the defending force here consisted of only about two squads, and they couldn't expect any support from Fort Hamilton—at the southernmost point of Brooklyn—where the HQ was located.

Orders from the Central Park eagle had come through: The military units responsible for security and military operations outside Manhattan were to retreat to Central Park within a week.

Some bridges had collapsed, and some were completely destroyed. Even before Captain Parkwson was dispatched here, they had been forced to relocate the HQ and began evacuating civilians, using boats.

If this place fell, there was nowhere to go. The transport to evacuate them wouldn’t arrive until at least two days later.

The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth.

"Escapees have infiltrated the neurosurgery building!"

"Damn it, Henry should’ve been bombing Rikers Island the moment the pandemic started... Report on the status of defense lines!"

"We haven’t even completed half! If we get resources from civilians, we can speed it up, but... what should we do?"

"Take the volunteers. If none, recruit them. Make sure women and children can evacuate if necessary."

Thudthudthud!

The noise continued to come from within. The sound of automatic weapons. All the prisoners from Rikers Island had been freed and scattered across Queens.

It didn’t take long for them to reach Brooklyn.

They had first raided the police armories and attacked the LaGuardia airport, which was very close to Rikers Island. Tens of thousands of refugees gathered there, and blood was reportedly ankle-deep at the airport.

The same weapons used in that attack were now being used here.

The bastards.

Except for a few important operations officers, all the non-commissioned officers and officers had dug trenches and mounted machine guns. There was plenty of ammunition and firearms, but the soldiers had all fallen ill and were incapacitated.

The sounds of combat grew nearer. Messages about casualties and injuries came through the radio, but Captain Parkwson ignored them, focusing mechanically on the command.

Until something unusual appeared on the CCTV screen.

"Out."

"What?"

"Something’s happening outside. Zoom in."

And then, the external footage filled the screen.

It should have been full of escapees, but now it looked different. The escapees were firing in a different direction. About six or seven of them had already collapsed, bleeding on the ground.

Bullets came from another direction.

The pressure from the front had momentarily eased, which was remarkable in such a dire situation. Whoever had helped, in this urgent time, had made a significant difference.

The decision was quick.

"The enemy’s firepower gap is at the parking lot. The closest troops are in 3rd Squad... Lieutenant Ellison!"

"I'm in, Captain!"

"Push the parking lot! Freefire granted!"

"Understood!"

The next scene was simple. About twenty soldiers flooded into the parking lot in waves, opening fire on the escapees, who fell like ragdolls with holes in their bodies.

Once the frontline cracked, the situation changed rapidly. The escapees had little communication equipment, and as the 3rd squad pushed from behind, the escapees’ positions were quickly outflanked.

Within minutes, a full squad of prisoners was eliminated.

It was an operation that could have earned them a medal in any other war movie, but sadly, all they would get for their efforts was a sip of ice-cold water.

During the assault, four friendly forces were wounded, two fatally. But of the 200 enemies, over 100 were dead, and over 50 were killed while trying to flee. The remaining 50 scattered throughout the city.

Unfortunately, unlike in typical war movies, all Captain Parkwson had to await were the chilling silence and the slowly freezing bodies of the over a hundred escapees.

Fortunately, this was a massive medical center, and there were doctors among the civilians. The wounded could be treated without any major issues.

As Captain Parkwson sighed heavily, Ellison, the Lieutenant, walked into the command room, finally smiling, and sat beside him.

"You did well. That was impressive. Anyone from your squad get hit?"

"God protected us. No one got hit. The timing was perfect."

"Yeah... seems like it. Who the hell helped us, though? Is it those Icarus folks who’ve been helping people around quietly?"

"It wasn’t them."

"Not them. You speak confidently. Did you see something?"

Just then, Lieutenant Ellison gave a subtle nod to Sergeant Morton, the assistant squad leader, and he slipped outside.

How much time had passed? Soon, an unexpected figure appeared in front of Captain Parkwson.

"...What the hell."

Parkwson thought it to himself as he saw her, but kept quiet.

Her long hair was disheveled, greasy even. She was quite tall. At first glance, it was hard to tell if she was male or female, but her face, visible beneath her hair, was unmistakably that of an East Asian woman.

Moreover, she was exceptionally beautiful.

But that wasn’t the issue. What caught his attention was the M4 rifle slung over her shoulder, still smoking from the muzzle, and the dog tags wrapped around her hand.

As she entered the building, disinfectant fluid from her body dripped in small drops onto the floor. The child wearing a mask looked almost like a puppy with a muzzle.

What should he say? Before he could think, Sergeant Morton spoke up.

"The angle at which the escapees fell and the position where this kid was hiding—seems like this little one helped us."

"...Better than saying one of the escapees turned traitor. But what’s with the tail?"

"This."

With a swift movement, Sergeant Morton lifted a woolen hat from her head, revealing a brown snake tail that briefly flicked out before disappearing again. As he covered it up again, Captain Parkwson fell silent.

The child’s pupils were shaking, but Parkwson didn’t notice. He began to recall the list of civilians here—there were people with odd features, like changing hair colors or growing tails and ears.

Moreover, there was Lieutenant Richmond from 1st Squad, who had passed away recently...

For whatever reason she had come, he decided to trust Sergeant Morton’s words.

After sighing deeply, Captain Parkwson finally spoke.

"Do you speak English?"

Finally, the child’s expression softened.

He felt an urge to pat the small—though not exactly tiny—child on the head.