I Have Returned, but I Cannot Lay down My Gun

Chapter 671

"<Fuck, fuck, fuck... the burners are coming! They're coming! Get the hell out of here now!>"

"<Wait, I have nothing to do with those bastards... I was serving time for fraud! I'll tell you the location where I hid the slush funds, please save me, haaack, haaaack!>"

"<These damned bastards, how can they burn a person alive... guh, aaack...!>"

"<Mom, momaaaah!>"

The red flames slithered through the air, flicking like the tongues of serpents, coloring the space.

It was clear that a horrific situation would unfold the moment the clothes of the people, and then their skin, caught the flames. Yet, none of them could explain their circumstances.

Or rather, to be precise, most of them had lived as suspects for most of their lives, but in this moment, the victims who were forced to become intimately acquainted with the flickering flames had no words to say other than screams.

Only the 'Cleaner,' whose voice had been unnervingly altered through a gas mask filter, would add a few words when carrying out the 'job' of setting people on fire.

"<You talk too much. Next time, I'll put a bullet in your neck before setting you on fire.>"

"<A large number of contaminants are heading toward Guardian. The rest will be handled by the others. We will focus only on the purification of this area.>"

"<There are no innocents among the contaminants in this area. Eliminate them all. The rest will be handled by the others.>"

Whoosh!

A specially prepared fuel was sprayed from the nozzle, and the moment it came into contact with the flames from the barrel, the fire erupted—no, to be exact, it was a viscous, flammable liquid that had been sprayed.

Napalm. The moment it made contact with the enemy, the fire spread like an infection from the central point.

But that wasn’t the end. The liquid from the thick nozzle was mixed with metal powder in addition to the viscous gasoline, igniting further and adding an incredible amount of firepower.

The flaming liquid, burning with terrifying force, caused the skin at the contact point to shrink as soon as it touched the body. The burns, permanent and life-threatening, quickly consumed the escapees.

Until life ceased, no, even after life had ended, the fire continued to burn.

"<Cough, crack, haaaack….>"

"<It doesn't end. Most of them must have taken shelter inside the building... there's nothing we can do. Use the oxygen tanks on your backs now. Let's show them what suffocation feels like.>"

The skin of the charred bodies crackled as blood oozed out.

One of the cleaners, after pushing the blood aside with his foot, placed a molotov cocktail through the half-burned clothing and set it off, grinning grimly. His laughter was empty, almost as if he had lost his mind.

The sizzling sound came next. The external respiratory filter of the gas mask was completely blocked, and the oxygen tank on his back began supplying air.

The reason they were doing this... was simple. When using a flamethrower inside a building, the air inside gets consumed.

And so, the escapees who had hidden inside the building were left with two choices.

One was to burn to death, the other was to suffocate.

"<This is Dragon 1. Entering the building where the contaminants have taken refuge. Starting the incineration procedure.>"

"<Go in, go in! The point man leads the way! Burn those rats to the ground!>"

"<Fuck, don't come near! You psychopaths burning people alive...!>"

"<Kill them all! Shoot the oxygen tanks on their backs! It's the cleaners!>"

The brutal battle began, one that would be hard to even record in history.

The escapees, desperate to survive, had entered a building cloaked in complete darkness, and the cleaners followed them inside. The flashlight and fire created flickering lights that filled the warehouse, which had been shrouded in darkness for months.

And the flamethrower spoke: In close combat under 50 meters, the person holding it was the strongest.

And it was exactly as it said.

The moment one exposed their arm and body to shoot, they were met with the intense flames spewing from the barrel.

Of course, even without sticking out their body, the heated air left behind by the flames was enough to serve as a weapon.

"<Shit, there's nowhere to run! Help me!>"

"<Get out of the building! If you stay inside, you'll burn to death! We need to push the bastards off the dock and try to make a move!>"

"<Get out, hurry! Don't slack off, you damned bastards-!>"

Chaos gave birth to fear.

Like rats whose homes had been invaded, hundreds of escapees burst out of the building indiscriminately. Among them were those who, fearing burning to death, shot their slower comrades and pushed them aside to escape.

The smell of burning flesh, the acrid odor of fuel combustion... Those who tried to escape the horrific death found themselves breathing in the cold morning air of Brooklyn at 8 a.m. in late January.

For most, it was the last breath of life they would take.

Dispersed, with no communication equipment and with nothing but a poor map to follow, the escapees were guided by nothing but desperation.

Naturally, the escapees had no idea where they were. Only a few of them managed to breach the perimeter set by the cleaners and escape.

Strictly speaking, they hadn’t breached it; they had just run desperately without knowing where they were going, but no one knew that.

It was an extreme exception. As time passed, the increasingly refined defense lines allowed no escape for the prisoners.

The only place the prisoners could head to was one.

The anvil.

"<Zodiac, where the hell is Zodiac! That bastard, when did he get away... hack!>"

"<Gunfire's coming from the building! Hide! Run!>"

"<Those bastards fired over a thousand rounds, why aren't the bullets dropping- aaack!>"

Boom!

But the cry of someone, or perhaps just a yell, was cut short. The grenade that came flying from hundreds of meters away obliterated everything in its path. And yes, it included the unlucky escapees.

That wasn’t all. Supersonic bullets continued to tear through the air, moving faster than the speed of sound.

The Guardian team stationed at the building had fired thousands, almost ten thousand, rounds toward the escapees. This was in direct contradiction to the strategy devised by the Lykers before attacking the military.

The strategic premise was simple: "Soldiers who protect civilians cannot carry enough ammunition."

This was the prediction of the Lykers and the Hyena Council.

Specifically, it wasn’t that they couldn’t resupply with enough ammo, but that they wouldn’t be able to carry it while moving. Strictly speaking, it was half a prediction, but also half true.

This was precisely why the escapees decided to attack the soldiers. They didn’t think the operation would yield any tangible gains, but they knew that the soldiers were weak. This was the real reason behind the operation.

Of course, there were some benefits. If they succeeded, they could acquire the soldiers' advanced weaponry and use the ammunition dropped by the transport planes.

A sweet honey pot, too delicious to ignore.

Thus, the plan was formulated: They would send out the lower-ranking escapees—essentially the cannon fodder—to use up all the bullets, and then take advantage of the shortage to push through quickly.

And it was well within the realm of possibility. The plan could have succeeded.

Except for one variable.

"<Where the hell are they getting all this ammunition from!>"

"<Looks like there was an ammo stash near the building!>"

"<Fuck, there must be at least one or two spots, right! So why the hell did they strike during the middle of the withdrawal, you idiot!>"

A furious escapee kicked another one in the gut.

The reason was simple. During the withdrawal, they had discarded all the ammunition, and when they boarded the transport, they’d only carried out what was needed for self-destruction. But the attack was decided to occur in the middle of the withdrawal because it was uncertain where the retreat would happen.

Strictly speaking, the reason they struck in the middle of the retreat was because they couldn’t predict where it would take place, so they had to prepare by waking up the stubborn escapees and arming them.

But the premise was simple: "Even if there’s an ammo stash nearby, the military won't be able to secure enough bullets before they engage in combat."

That’s why the plan was devised.

To stop the escapees from getting ammo, they used a strange supply plane to drop what seemed like a projectile rocket launcher.

But it failed.

The military, as if using cheats, continued to pour out an endless supply of ammo!

??Boom!

"<We're fucked. Everyone who came here is gonna die.>"

"<If you have time to talk, start running! Cough, gurgle…!>"

The neck pierced, a grenade blast, a fire ax strike, and then burned alive while still clinging to life, all while still hanging in the air, the body oxidized by an aerial bombardment from a passing plane.

Literally, like sugar cubes dissolving in hot water, the 2 battalions, nearly a thousand escapees—around 200 of them under Zodiac’s command, who betrayed their own people and ran—melted away in a moment.

The once near-certain plan had become useless, and about 1/20th of the 20,000 escapees from Ryker Island were suddenly wiped out.

This engagement, which may not even be recorded in history, ended with a victory for the Guardians—the 104th Military Police Battalion.

And about a few hundred meters away, the Guardian's main base.

"<I can't go any further, ugh...>"

"<...Good job, kid. If it weren't for you, we’d all be throwing bricks instead of bullets by now.>"

"<You crazy bastard. The ammo cans you carried today must weigh tons. I don't even know what I just saw.>"

"<Our proud kid, drink some water. Water.>"

There was Eugene, sitting on the ground, drenched in sweat, panting like a dog.

That day, she had carried 158 ammo cans and placed two high-speed grenade launchers on the rooftop.

It was Eugene’s second victory.

"<...You never listen, do you, snake kid? You must’ve caused a lot of trouble for your parents when you were younger. If you'd just gone to Central Park quietly, you wouldn’t have had to deal with this heart-stopping stuff... Don’t do it again next time.>"

"<But....>"

"<....>"

After everything was over, 8:30 a.m.

Just a moment ago, it had been dark, then a bluish light, and then the sunlight started pouring down on Brooklyn. The American soldiers, exhausted but filled with the satisfaction of survival, walked down from the building.

And beneath them, I stood with Captain Parkwason, watching the frozen Brooklyn beach. It was only a few dozen meters away from the baseball field, the escape point.

He looked like he wanted to say something, but after a brief pause, he spoke.

"<Eugene.>"

"Yes...?"

"<I’ve always thought the military’s purpose was to protect civilians. I still think that, but... what do you think about an outbreak situation like this?>"

"..."

"<No need to answer. I just needed someone to listen.>"

He spoke slowly enough for me to understand.

There were some difficult parts, but I definitely understood the word "outbreak." It referred to the large-scale pandemic caused by the failure to contain an infection. I had heard that word countless times at the medical center.

Was he waiting for me to understand that, or... I just stared at the frozen New York Bay with a gloomy expression.

Looking back on this retreat, I still don’t know if I should have run out. Honestly, I still don't know. Maybe I just made it worse. Well, that’s probably true. Because I made it worse, that’s why this is happening.

But honestly... I still don’t know. Would I have been able to go to Central Park peacefully, knowing these people would die?

No.

The important thing isn’t that.

"<...That doesn’t matter.>"

"Hm?"

"<Time, and people, are valuable. Especially now. There’s no time to think. Isn’t that right?>"

"...Ha..."

He chuckled at my weak answer. I don’t know how he took it.

But... this was my answer. It wasn’t a carefully considered one, but in this kind of special situation, it didn’t matter who should survive. It was pointless to look back on past decisions.

If possible, everyone who came to save us, and those who were saved, should live. The idea that someone had to stay and sacrifice in these kinds of apocalyptic situations... was meaningless.

People would become valuable resources, more than ever before. Just like now, and like at the Maimonies Medical Center... where there were too many weapons and not enough people to use them.

I added to my reply, using the little English I’d learned over the past few days.

"<If everyone dies here, next time... it’ll be someone else. A soldier.>"

"..."

"<You saved a lot of people. But those people... they’ll become soldiers. If you die. Probably. The government will make them. Probably.>"

"...Is that so."

That’s still just my guess.

But I never imagined the U.S. would be this quiet. And that’s... probably because so many people had already died before I fell here.

If there’s not enough manpower to distinguish who’s infected... I can’t even imagine what will happen next. Maybe it’ll be a struggle for survival, as if in Hobbes' state of nature.

To prevent such a situation, they’ll force people to arm themselves and send them out...

Anyway.

He seemed to have somewhat understood my words, laughing helplessly as he tried to take a cigarette pack from his pocket. But when he saw me, he put it back.

If he wanted to smoke, he could just...

He opened his mouth.

"<I get what you mean, kid. So, as you said... let’s pretend this didn’t happen since we managed to survive. There's no point in worrying about precedents or anything else when the country’s falling apart.>"

"...I didn’t understand."

"<I’m telling you to study English more seriously at Central Park. And....>"

He added, giving me a strange look.

"<...You’ll become an excellent soldier. Even if you don’t want to, maybe that’ll happen... Anyway, you save as many people as you can. Save your life, and your team’s life. Got it?>"

"...I understand this one. If I can. Actually, I’m afraid of shooting.>"

"<That was the funniest joke I’ve heard today, Eugene.>"

Kuuu-!

How long had it been? The air vibrated. The third transport plane, meant to carry everyone here, sliced through the air and landed on the soccer field.

It was time to leave for real, and I followed him, trailing behind him toward the soccer field. Most of the gear had already been loaded, and the soldiers from the 107th Military Police Battalion were almost done boarding.

From the baseball field, I could hear the constant popping of fireworks. I heard it was the sound of the remaining ammo exploding, but somehow it sounded more like a celebration, as if we were boarding a plane.

And so, finally, everyone, including me, boarded. There were no more enemies blocking our way.

The plane took off.

Behind the plane, whose rear door wasn’t fully closed, the view of Brooklyn gradually shrank. The buildings that had seemed so huge just moments ago were shrinking in an instant, crossing the frozen New York Bay.

I wondered if I’d ever go back there again. Just a week ago, there had been terrible things, but also memories of good people.

But the smoke rising from fires and the dead streets... clearly reminded me of where I was now.

This was...

‘...New York.’

The frozen heart of America.

The city that never sleeps, now asleep.

Frozen Big Apple.

This was New York.

I was here.

"...Acknowledged, GA1. New redeployment orders have been issued."

"I’m listening. Most of the team has been injured and is currently being escorted. There are no available personnel, except for myself."

"I understand. This redeployment order is not a normal one. Break. The Department of Homeland Security has issued an urgent summons to Alpha-class variants. The destination is Central Park HQ."

"Central Park HQ... the one with the 'Torch'?"

"Details will be explained aboard the Silent Hawk. We’ll arrive in 20 minutes. Finish boarding within that time."

"...Understood."

The top floor of VHC Health-Virginia General Hospital in Washington D.C. A figure gently touched their flowing white hair and let out a deep sigh.

A new player had entered the scene.