I Have Returned, but I Cannot Lay down My Gun

Chapter 673

???Drring!

"...Ugh."

Since the world had fallen apart, it was almost the first time in what felt like forever that I had heard the sound of an alarm clock—an absurd reminder of civilization. The world was truly at its end.

Thinking this, I struggled to get up from the folding bed frame. Of course, it wasn’t something you’d use in a camping trip or anything like that; it was a piece of emergency equipment that prioritized productivity over comfort for such a crisis.

My body felt stiff. There wasn’t even enough space around my waist to move freely, and I had to struggle to turn and get up from the already cramped frame. My first night in Central Park was the worst.

Anyway, now that the alarm clock was ringing, I could finally tell the time for certain.

Considering the fact that the sun was only just starting to rise outside, it was probably around 7 to 8 AM. And from what I heard yesterday, I had to start my schedule right at 8 AM.

Lieutenant Legion had said he’d come five minutes before the hour... so, I guess I had to clean myself up a little if I didn’t want to look too shabby.

'...How?'

How do I even do that?

Do girls take showers differently? Do they soak in a tub filled with rose petals every morning? I don’t even know how to tie my hair properly, and washing my face is just splashing water and wiping it. There's no cleansing foam or lotion here... so, the best I could do was wipe my face with some water from the rationed supply.

Before I arrived here, I’d occasionally been able to shower at the hospital where I stayed, so at least I didn’t look too bad as a woman… but when did I become a woman? It was so frustrating.

Anyway, struggling to present the tidiest version of myself in that moment, I heard footsteps approaching from below. I quickly popped a strong mint candy in my mouth to freshen my breath and popped my mouth with water before calling out.

"I’ll be out soon."

With several layers of thick clothes on to ward off the cold, I must have looked quite a sight. But, what could I do?

It didn’t take long for the cold winter air to engulf my entire body. Thankfully, I had wrapped my tail tightly with a scarf, and the buttons on my coat kept it from falling off, so it wasn’t too bad.

My task today was simple. I needed to familiarize myself with the surrounding facilities and meet the medical staff and examiners who would be in charge of me from now on. Starting today, there were official exams and tests to go through.

And, just as he had said, Agent Legion and I began to head to areas where civilians weren’t allowed to enter.

"…When was this building built? It’s impressive."

"It’s been quite a while, actually. The buildings around here have been up for about a month. The ones under construction right now are all for accommodating civilians."

"Ah…"

Around that time, he began to share some information.

According to him, before the Omega virus crisis became apparent, Central Park HQ had been a health center.

They had started by building accommodations, control towers, dining halls, clinics, examination rooms, and diagnostic centers, with public health workers, doctors, and law enforcement like the NYPD and the U.S. Public Health Mission Team stationed here.

The incubation period for the Omega virus was about three weeks, so considering that the various buildings in Central Park had been erected since late December... it wasn’t entirely impossible to believe.

Anyway, that aside, I had a request for him today.

I recalled the crinkling sound of the paper in my pocket and asked.

"…Would it be possible to find someone for me?"

"Someone?"

"No, not just anyone. I think I heard that someone named Jenna, who was very close to a Sergeant Baker from the 107th Military Police Brigade, is working around here in Central Park."

"Jenna, hmm..."

"Here, I have a photo… here."

Unfortunately, I didn’t have Sergeant Baker's dog tags with me. I had already handed them over to Captain Parkwason.

Still, there were a few things he had left behind. A blood-soaked photo and a small note that seemed like a will... I kept the map of Brooklyn. It had become unnecessary as we moved to Manhattan, but I had kept it for some reason.

Looking at the blood-stained photograph, he spoke again.

"…A memento. I understand. It might take some time, but if I find her, I’ll make sure to mention it separately. Finding someone who works here won’t take too long, but if not, it might take a little longer."

"Ah… I see."

By now, many people might be making similar requests to others.

The map I had found on the wall of the first house I entered had a message saying "Go to Central Park." People who had lost family and friends might be looking for someone they lost, but…

It was much better than Brooklyn, but that didn’t mean Central Park was functioning perfectly. Many of the civilians I passed on my way here probably carried their own grief.

But… whatever. I was in a position to ask someone like Legion for help, and I wasn’t going to waste that opportunity.

Anyway, while thinking about this, Legion and I entered a heavily guarded area.

There were thick barricades surrounding it, and heavily armed soldiers monitored everyone approaching from watchtowers and gates.

I looked up at the sky. Countless large drones were constantly flying inside the facility, carrying something. It was dirt. Tons of dirt were being spread somewhere.

After passing through the scanners and quarantine facilities, I was handed a keycard by the soldier in charge of the gate.

He added:

"This kid doesn’t need a keycard, Agent."

"This is a friend who will be coming in and out of here often. Identity check is basically done; just make sure she doesn’t bring any viruses with her."

"I understand."

After Legion disappeared, I entered the area with a blank expression. At that moment, I understood why so many drones were flying back and forth.

There was construction on a scale unlike the regular projects happening in Central Park. Deep into the underground of Central Park, something was being built.

Trucks and heavy machinery, which couldn’t be seen from the outside, were hauling dirt, and the drones flew up, carrying loads before vanishing into the air. They seemed to be dumping the dirt nearby.

While I was distracted by this strange sight, someone approached me and added:

"This is the most urgent project in the Central Park renovation. We’ve named it ‘Ark.’ Ah, I guess it’s hard for our lady to understand if I say it in English?"

"...I understand most of it."

"Well, I’m not sure what you’re saying, but I feel like I understand. Just kidding, it’s a joke. It’s Dr. Wesker. If I tell you that name from the game, you’d probably get mad, huh?"

...Albert Wesker?

I felt a strong sense of déjà vu when I heard that name, but he quickly explained what the Ark was.

To put it simply, it was a large, sophisticated set of facilities buried underground, designed to protect various power plants, control devices, and evacuation spaces for high-ranking personnel. In other words, a well-hidden, almost unassailable refuge.

I was about to ask him what would happen if it collapsed, but his answer was so pragmatic that it left no room for rebuttal.

As expected, this person was one of the disease control experts sent to help with my physical examination.

He went on to explain the tests I would be undergoing. He even used an electronic dictionary to translate and inform me in real-time.

I learned that the tests would include basic checks like height, weight, blood tests, ECGs, and fluid tests. There would also be more advanced ones, such as exercise tolerance tests (measuring VO2 max), motion capture to assess physical abilities, electromyography (EMG) tests, and many others.

At the very least, I’d have to go through these tests for about a week. That wasn’t the end, though. Based on the initial test results, there would be further specialized tests.

Although I didn’t think such an extensive examination was unnecessary, I could understand it, considering the situation.

But then...

"...Excuse me."

"What’s up? Got a question?"

"I’m hungry."

I hadn't eaten breakfast.

The moment I said this, his expression turned odd, but after a quick nod, he added:

"Well, that’s fortunate. Some of the tests require a minimum of 8 hours, usually 12 hours, of fasting. I’ll suggest a meal as soon as the current tests are done, so just hang in there a little longer."

"…Alright."

I couldn’t quite understand what he meant, but I could tell from his face. It was disappointing.

I felt like if anyone saw me now, they would probably see me looking like a sad little puppy with my tail drooping. I sighed deeply as I followed the doctor into the building.

And—

???Bang!

"I'm still hungry!"

"…My goodness. That’s an unbelievable amount of shock. The muscle fiber density has already far surpassed human levels."

"Does anyone have a snack? As soon as the door opens, we should get something in her mouth."

About three hours later, after not putting anything in my stomach, I became ferocious.

I realized that people who don’t feed others are bad people.

"Ugh..."

"I’m sorry. I know it was inevitable. But at least now you know."

"...Ugh."

At 1 PM, when I had lost all ability to speak and could only express my dissatisfaction with gestures and small noises, I was eating my meal with a displeased look at the dining area inside the restricted zone of Central Park HQ—this was the official name of the place.

Honestly, how can they ask someone who can’t function without food to do all these things without feeding them first? It was so frustrating, really.

But still, after everything, I’d endured worse situations in the past, and maybe I could handle it for a little longer. They didn’t refuse me food, so I decided to hold it together for today.

...On the other hand, it made me feel a little sorry when I realized that even the food here, in this space restricted to essential personnel, was far worse than anything I’d ever gotten from a fast-food restaurant.

At least I was in America, the land of fast food. If society hadn’t collapsed like this, thousands of tons of food would be discarded daily in this town.

'...I guess that’s why there are so many super obese people in America.'

You know those people you see at Walmart? They’re riding tiny carts that look like they might break before their suspension and engine give out.

At least I didn’t have to worry about starving to death here. The cargo planes flying in and out were dropping off food supplies in ton-sized loads, so I didn’t think I’d have to worry about that.

Anyway...

"The physical structure of the Alpha-class mutants... It’s beyond the scope of modern medicine and sports science. The muscle fibers are so thin yet packed so densely, and they retain incredible delicacy...”

"It’s much closer to a predator than a human. The eye muscles are the same—speed and strength in eye movement are incomparable."

"There’s something inside the nasal cavity that resembles the organ of a pit viper. Unlike the snake that served as the model, it seems like the user can activate it whenever they want..."

"The body reacts extremely sensitively to vibrations. However, in psychological tests, stress didn’t show up, which means the person can filter and gather the information they want when needed..."

I didn’t understand any of this.

Anyway, watching them fervently discuss the results of the examination on my body was a little unsettling, though I supposed it was inevitable.

But, you know, understanding something and experiencing it are different. I knew what they were talking about, but actually going through it felt... off.

Then again, thinking back, all this meant was that my body had a lot to be analyzed. That in itself made me feel that coming here wasn’t such a bad thing.

As I absentmindedly patted my increasingly bloated stomach, I heard someone ask:

"Did you enjoy your meal?"

"...Ah, Agent Legion."

"Well, you know, there’s always trial and error at first... but it must have been a tough experience for you. At least you got to eat, so that’s something."

The Legion agent, whom I hadn’t seen for a while, had slipped back into the dining area.

He had said he’d explain what I’d need to do here when I first met him, and from the looks of it, he might have been observing me while hidden away.

As expected, he spoke as if he already knew everything.

"Anyway, I think most of the basic tests are done. I didn’t expect it to be this intense, but well, that’s not too important."

"So what’s next...?"

"Good question."

With that, he placed a small container filled with patches—those tiny electrodes they had attached to me during the EMG test—on the table.

I wondered what that was about. As I was thinking this, he spoke again.

"As you must already know, your greatest mystery is... the incredible physical output that can’t be replicated by humans. Researchers are extremely interested in this."

"...Is that so?"

"Naturally, it’s not something we can understand fully in just a day or two. It’ll be a bit of a hassle, but it looks like we’ll need your cooperation for a bit longer."

"Well, considering I’m being managed here, I guess that makes sense."

"Exactly. But the data we’re collecting will likely need to be gathered every few months."

It sounded a bit tedious, but it made sense.

"Then, what exactly should I do?" I asked, still trying to digest all the new information.

"Simple enough," he replied with a small smile. "You’ll wear these patches and go about your daily life. The data we need will be collected from you while you’re moving, at rest, and especially during any intense activity."

"...Intense activity?"

"Don’t worry too much about that part. We’ve figured out how to gather data during those moments. What matters now is whether you’re willing to cooperate."

"I can decide after hearing more, right?"

"Of course. It’s a small task."

With that, he let out a small laugh and nodded.

He then added, "You just need to help with the construction site. You know what that means, right?"

"..."

Sadly, that was the one thing I could actually do best in this situation—helping at the construction site.

My second job, after unloading, was now manual labor.

I couldn’t believe it.