I Have Returned, but I Cannot Lay down My Gun

Chapter 675

"...The building is big, but there are no people here."

"It can't be helped. People like us are rare, and even if there were, it wouldn't be easy to get to Central Park. If you hadn't met any friendly people in Brooklyn, would you have been able to come here?"

"Well... that’s true."

4 AM, Central Park HQ.

The weather, which had been somewhat pleasant for a while, became gloomy again, and even the moonlight was hidden behind the darkness, leaving only the faint light of candles in the Alpha-class mutants' accommodations.

Inside, I first met someone who introduced herself as Lauren... and the first impression was very good. Actually, it couldn't have been any other way. She looked like a princess; how could I not like her?

But, how should I put it... behind her rather graceful face, there seemed to be a coldness hidden, like someone who could casually stab a knife into someone’s abdomen with a smile.

At first, I thought that was a very inappropriate thought, but after just a few minutes of meeting her, I somehow got the sense of what her job might be.

She was also in the U.S. military. Beyond that, it was a bit unclear, but it seemed like she worked in a specialized role... like some sort of special forces. That’s when I understood why there were suspicious items on the table.

Moreover, the cabinet that seemed like it could hold something—turns out it was a gun cabinet. A place to store firearms. I would have liked to look at it, but that was obviously out of the question.

Anyway, she seemed quite interested in me.

By coincidence, I felt the same way. The reason was obvious. Although I had gone through many hardships to get to Central Park, this was the first time I had met someone like me, whose body had changed in such a way.

According to Regent Agent, Alpha-class mutants like me and Lauren were rare, though there were others lower than us who were often seen, and I heard there were a few at the base, though I hadn’t met any yet.

The only regret was that, given her position—whatever it might be—I couldn’t talk for long because she had a lot of work to do. If there was any gain in this conversation, it was that she seemed interested in learning Korean.

Lauren spoke.

"You don’t have to worry too much. We’ll meet often from now on. It won’t be too far off."

"...The way you say that makes me feel even more uneasy."

"I don’t really know what you mean, but I think I understand. You’re the type who can't hide your thoughts, huh?"

"Eh…"

...It's still a bit difficult to speak, but at least I could understand a bit more.

Judging by how people generally reacted like that, it seemed that my thoughts might be clearly visible on my face. It wasn’t that it hadn’t been that way in the past, but hearing such things in this situation was a bit shocking.

I thought maybe I should practice in that area, but then again, I’d probably give away those thoughts right away too. Honestly, what made me more uneasy was what Lauren had said earlier—"We’ll meet often from now on."

In fact, I had a vague sense of what was happening. More soldiers were gradually showing up, and I’d occasionally seen ammo boxes being moved when supplies were dropped by transport planes.

"...If I stay here, I might end up serving again as a soldier."

Well, maybe it was pretty much a given.

Strictly speaking, it wasn’t that I would become a soldier, but rather, Central Park would probably declare all civilians here as reserves. And I had already experienced something similar.

Right now, my most valuable possession, the patch from the 107th Military Police Company... Technically, it wasn’t official, and Captain Pakuson didn’t recruit me directly.

Anyway, if that were to happen... no, I was sure they wouldn’t just let me be. It wouldn’t be strange if they put me to work. Enhanced humans have always been considered a necessary and sufficient condition for becoming excellent soldiers.

Then...

"You look like you’re thinking a lot."

"Ah."

"But that’s not bad... Seems like you’ve already figured something out. You already know what’s going to happen to you."

"..."

"Most people who can predict the future precisely end up carrying anxiety. But... a very few try to prepare for and fight the waves that are coming."

...What was she trying to say to me?

She placed the candle holder down. The faint light from the flame spilled across the room, and for a moment, I thought I saw her scarlet eyes flicker.

Lauren spoke.

"What do you think is going to happen?"

As soon as I interpreted her words, my head instinctively lowered.

I didn’t know exactly what would happen, but I was sure it wouldn’t be anything good. The weather would warm up, and more people would try to escape the shackles of the cold and seek their own survival.

Chaos, where no one knew where things would go. But one thing was certain: there wouldn’t be anything good happening in Central Park. People would struggle to survive.

Some would try to destroy this place, while others would fight to protect the only shining beacon amidst the chaos. And, most likely...

At that point, I couldn’t help but ask.

"...Why are you telling me all this?"

"Well... maybe it’s just out of simple curiosity, or maybe because you look pitiful... but the biggest reason is, as I said before, you and your kind—maybe even more people—are likely to come together for the same reason, soon enough."

"...?"

"You might not know now. But in a few weeks at the latest, you’ll understand. In that sense, you’re doing well. You’ll need your strength to survive the waves ahead."

I didn’t fully understand, but it was clear. This person was likely preparing me to become a soldier. But that wasn’t forced. If it were, she would have been much more direct.

But from what she said, it seemed that all the grim futures I had imagined were coming soon, and the likelihood that I’d end up holding a gun was very high.

And so, I asked, of my own volition.

"What should I do?"

"...Hah. I didn’t expect to hear such an answer. That’s quite surprising."

"...I’ve been through a lot of tough things too."

Of course, she hadn’t understood the muttered words, but because of that, Lauren seemed to have figured out what I needed to do to prepare as quickly as possible.

She handed me a thick book. I could guess what it was. The cover looked like something you’d typically see in the military.

It was similar to the manual my senior had thrown at me when I first took over my unit’s duties, but much thicker and all in English.

While I was waiting for her to say something, she spoke.

"You’re doing well with your English studies, but you’ll need to pick up the pace. Do as much as you can."

"...Yes."

"It’s nice to have someone who listens well. You might not see me again tomorrow. Let’s meet again later."

"Ah, okay. But... can I ask you something?"

"What is it?"

I knew this wouldn’t be the last question, but I had to ask something I’d been curious about since we first met.

I opened my mouth.

"...How old are you?"

"...I knew you’d ask that, you’re an interesting kid. Well, I guess it’s natural to wonder, but let’s save that fun for next time."

"...Eh?"

"But it wouldn’t be fun to leave without saying anything, right? So let’s make it a game. If you guess right when we meet again, I’ll give you a special gift. How about it?"

"Eh, how would I even guess..."

"Do your best."

Clink.

She stood up, picking up the lantern she had set down. It was like a princess from a Nordic castle returning to her room. Her silver hair shimmered in the moonlight, like shattered foam.

I stood there, staring blankly at her until she left the room, and in that moment, my candle went out with a flicker.

...Was it time to sleep?

After a dreamlike passage of time, I slowly drifted into sleep, reflecting on the conversation I had just had.

For almost two weeks, I didn’t see Lauren again.

I found out that a person named Jenna was in the Omega Virus Intensive Care Unit, that is, the ICU, the day before I met her again.

"…"

Beep, beep, beep.

Countless machines, whose purpose and names I didn’t know, continued to beep with mechanical sounds. Monitors were showing numbers that seemed to measure heart rate, blood pressure, and more.

Each patient room was strictly divided by plastic partitions. It reminded me of a scene I had once seen in a drama. I still remember it clearly. It was from a show called Chernobyl.

The full-body isolation suits, reminding me of astronauts. Everyone who entered had to receive air through pipes at the back of their heads. The ICU for Omega Virus patients was truly a horrific space.

Everyone had artificial respirators attached to their mouths. Some had pipes running through their necks, connected directly to them.

"This place’s patients are suffering from multiple organ failure, or their organs have stopped functioning, but the damage is irreversible, so they’re in intensive care."

"…"

"That’s her. Jenna McKellen. The sister of Sergeant Baker, who died, and just a few weeks ago, she was still working as an emergency responder."

I carefully opened the door to the poorly constructed plastic partition and stepped inside.

She was only opening her eyes. There was some kind of panel attached in front of her eyes, and she kept opening and closing them. Soon, I realized what that meant.

The screen behind her bed started displaying text. Words combined to form sentences. Fortunately, her typing speed was very fast, and it had a built-in translation function.

Her first words appeared on the screen.

• I heard you were the one who witnessed my brother’s last moments.

I nodded silently.

The crumpled piece of paper and the letter in my pocket rustled. Since these notes and the letter would never see the light of day again, I had brought them with me. I just wasn’t sure when I should take them out.

Meanwhile, the sentences on the screen continued.

• I was on the brink of death not too long ago. Later, they told me that if I found out my brother was dead, the emotional shock would lower my chances of recovery, so they decided not to tell either of us. But now it doesn’t matter.

"...Why?"

• Soon, I’ll be able to be with my foolish brother.

My chest tightened.

Why did those calm words hurt so much? At that moment, I understood why I was allowed to come here. It was because she was about to die, and that was the only reason we were able to meet.

I fought back the tears that were welling up, and slowly took out the piece of paper with the letter from my pocket. Unfortunately, the dog tag was with Captain Pakuson.

Maybe my hands weren’t moving well, so the medical staff beside her took it from me and spread it out in front of her.

The words on the paper, which contrasted with the dried blood, were neatly written. She leisurely read them, her eyes hazy. The silence dragged on for tens of seconds.

There was no response.

But after some time, tears began to run down Jenna’s face.

The sentence generator, which worked by detecting eye movement, continued to operate, and while the doctor who had come with me took various measures, I could only watch the scene.

It took her a few minutes to calm down.

The text slowly appeared again.

• Could I hear about my brother’s last moments?

"...I’m not good at English, but I’ll try my best."

...This was exactly why I had to study English.

I slowly completed the sentences with difficulty. Thankfully, there wasn’t too much that had happened that day, and I remembered the entire story of how Sergeant Baker had died from start to finish.

The escaped prisoners. The people who would later be known as the Rikers. They killed him. Or more precisely... they killed him too. More than ten people turned into cold corpses in an instant.

Everyone else died instantly, but he took a fatal blow and hung on for a few more minutes. During that time, he met me by chance and gave me everything he could.

That’s how I survived.

She quietly shed tears and then added.

• My brother traded his life to save you. Then, you’re not the one who’s dead. His faith and his meaning live on in you.

"...Yes. He wanted me to live... and I did. I survived and made it here."

• That’s wonderful. I’m sure my brother would be proud.

I couldn’t wipe my tears.

At this moment, I felt that the canopy-like covering on my face was unbearably frustrating, but she continued speaking.

• Please hold my hand. I’m curious about your name.

"...Eugene. Yu Eugene."

• That’s a lovely name.

Although I couldn’t hear or see clearly, I somehow felt that Jenna was faintly smiling.

The visitation time we had agreed upon was drawing to a close. It was clear that this conversation was taking a toll on her body, but I gripped her hand. It was slender but very strong.

While I was tearing up inside the isolation suit, she spoke again.

• Please, don’t follow me and my brother. After the Omega Virus crisis is over, get your own life back.

"...Can I do that?"

• You can. The Lord is watching over you.

As soon as her finger, which had no strength left, carefully lowered, I instinctively realized that my time with her was nearly up.

Whether it was visiting time or the remaining time Jenna had, it was all coming to an end.

She struggled to hold onto the blood-stained paper and the letter her brother had left. Soon, the crinkling sound could be heard as the paper began to crumple in her hand.

With great difficulty, I spoke.

"...Please don’t die. I’ll see you again next time…"

• It’s fine. If you bring flowers to my grave often after I die, that will be enough. Just remember that my brother and I fought in our respective frontlines.

"...No matter what happens... I won’t forget... I swear."

At that moment, she truly smiled. That was the last image I saw.

...Watching someone die in front of your eyes is the most excruciating thing.

Two days later, I heard from Regent Agent that Jenna had passed away.

I hoped she would meet Sergeant Baker in heaven and that she would no longer suffer in this world.