I Have Returned, but I Cannot Lay down My Gun

Chapter 685

"Hmm, this is... beyond what I thought. The fact that it's not even showing up on the CCTV is a bit unexpected. I’ll need to prepare better moving forward."

Thud! Thud! Thud!

There were dozens of CCTV screens, each one displaying different parts of Grand Central Terminal. These were all gathered in a control room somewhere inside the station, which was now dominated by these screens.

Normally, the role of these cameras was simple: monitor the movements of busy New Yorkers, check for any disturbances or fights, and deploy station workers if needed.

But today, things were different. The screens now showed people being slaughtered by an entity with overwhelming supernatural power—something that humans couldn’t resist, a one-sided massacre.

However, the man in the suit, who was staring at the screens, didn’t show the usual emotions—shock, confusion, or fear. Instead, his reaction was something else. It was as if he had either expected this or was surprised by the unexpectedness of it... and this reaction told only one thing: he had been aware that something like this would happen.

He lightly tapped the table with his index finger, and the vibration spread like a scent, as about ten people entered the room.

Unlike those who carried a simple handgun, shotgun, or appropriate rifles, these individuals wore knee and elbow protectors, multi-purpose pouches, S&S Precision Plate Carriers, complex wires and headsets tangled on their bodies, and dark tactical uniforms. They were clearly elite soldiers.

"Did you call us? What should we do now?"

"Prepare to be exfiltrated. We’re currently gathering data. Once we transmit it to Artemis Headquarters, we’ll destroy all the equipment in the room. We were never here."

"Understood. I’ll bring the thermite."

"Oh, right. Not all ten of you. Leave three behind. Just in case."

"Got it. Jensen, Collins, and... Captain Hoffman. You’re with me."

Hoffman, the one called by name, nodded indifferently.

As the seven trained soldiers quickly exited the room, the man in the suit sighed and sat down in his chair. The badge on his chest, a combination of a bow, arrow, and crescent moon, shimmered silver.

Artemis Technologies. One of the military-industrial complexes that had emerged from the Rust Belt and Silicon Valley after the fall of the U.S., also involved in the development of Icarus Gear.

But that was just the surface—this company had used the Omega virus crisis as an opportunity to fight over influence and had even sold technology and national secrets to enemy states.

In short, they had triggered the invasion of the U.S. by foreign countries, and had indirectly led the invasion... making them both founding traitors and national betrayers.

"Is it okay that the rocket launcher was captured by the enemy?"

"It has no logo or serial number, and once it's fired or its safety is removed, it will automatically destroy itself after a certain amount of time. Besides, it wasn’t even made by Artemis. If we manage to break through all the safety measures and get Artemis’s trail... that’ll be a natural disaster."

"I understand."

"Well, that’s that. No more need for fire support at Grand Central Terminal. Once we’re back in the safe house, I’ll contact Mr. Carlton..."

Why contact the director? The reason was simple.

Artemis Technologies... was far from a simple operation. To put it briefly, internal power struggles were ongoing, and more specifically, a war was being fought to eliminate anyone still loyal to the U.S. and bury them underground.

The key members of the company hired all sorts of unregistered PMCs via the dark web to achieve their goals, and the scheming that once took place in courtrooms was now replaced by far more brutal infighting to eliminate rivals.

Among them, Carlton was one of the board members who led the purge of the pro-American faction.

Bang, crash.

Meanwhile, footsteps were heard climbing the stairs. About five or six people were coming.

Soon, the door flung open, and a confrontation ensued between those in suits and the armed troops who were dressed much more poorly compared to the PMC hired by Artemis.

It was the armed forces who were the ones in shock.

"...Dexter, what the hell are you doing here... and who are these people!?"

"Shit, more importantly! We attacked the U.S. military, right? But now these bastards are using magic to slaughter us! What the hell do we do now!"

"Don’t worry. Everything is going according to plan."

"What, what do you mean... do you have another plan?"

"I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just... I feel bad for the guinea pigs who got sacrificed, but thanks to them, we’ve gathered enough data. There’s no need to fight anymore."

"...What did you say?"

"You still don’t get it, do you? Well, whatever. Good luck."

Shh.

What happened next was simple. A brief exchange of glances, and the three PMC members standing behind Dexter raised their guns with terrifying speed.

Before the armed soldiers could react, several gunshots rang out. About ten casings hit the floor, and the CCTV room became eerily quiet.

The group who had brought the thermite rushed into the room, but Dexter stopped them with a raised hand and kept to the original plan. As a result, the room now contained both corpses and thermite.

More words followed.

"A train heading to New Haven is ready. It can leave anytime."

"Good. Let’s move. Where’s Captain Hoffman?"

"He’s checking the escape route. He went out alone while setting up the thermite. He’ll join us later."

"I don’t know why the team leader had to handle such small details. Anyway, we’ll leave as soon as the destruction is done. If we take too long, it’s going to be a hassle."

"Understood."

...

After about a minute and a half, the signal to proceed was given, and all nine members, except for Captain Hoffman, quickly descended the employee-only passageway.

The stench of blood began to fill the station. Though it wasn’t winter, the bodies would soon start to decompose, but no one would care.

How long had it been? On the New Haven-bound train platform, which had no signs of life, a strange-looking train that could never be seen in the usual New York subway was waiting.

Inside it were just a few seats, generators, and various mechanical devices. Dexter casually pushed the handle, and the train began to slowly leave Grand Central Terminal.

He was happily tapping away at a keyboard as he spoke.

"It’s a shame we messed up Grand Central Terminal, but no big deal. We gathered the most important data in Central Park. We got the body data of an Alpha-class mutant."

"That’s impressive. But can we apply it anywhere?"

"That’s not our concern. Just gathering it is enough. Eventually, we’ll find a use for it. The key is in the discovery."

"Understood."

...

The world was dark, and the train, covered in translucent glass, moved leisurely toward New Haven without any interference. It was running through the underground tunnels, and so far, there hadn’t been any issues, though who knew what would happen next? But they didn’t care. At least, that’s what they thought.

Grand Central Terminal was just the beginning. Similar events would happen again soon. And it was only the start. There was less than half a year left before Russia and China’s armies would land on the U.S., ignoring the effects of the virus.

The destruction of Russia and China’s fleets by the U.S. Navy was regrettable, but the 7th Fleet was now stuck in Yokosuka, which was still a decent outcome.

Dexter spoke again.

"The combat capabilities of those operators are impressive, but that’s not enough. Unless they can show us something more... we won’t need to watch them anymore."

"Isn’t that too optimistic?"

"Thinking that they can perform miracles, or more than what they’ve shown so far in every battle, is the real optimism. Sure, they might take down battalion- or regiment-level forces, but in a full-scale war between nations, it’s just a drop in the ocean."

...

That’s why they bet on countries other than the U.S.

A decisive blow when a nation is at its weakest. It was only possible now, and that’s why part of Artemis was executing this mad plan.

Whether it would succeed or fail, no one knew. But one thing was certain: they had placed everything on the results they would achieve, not on the chances of failure. It was a typical gambler’s decision.

Of course, if they succeeded, they would think only about what would happen after that. No one wanted to imagine what would happen if they failed.

One thing was certain: when everything was revealed, they would be executed in the streets, and that would be a light punishment compared to the crimes they had committed.

"Anyway, the terminal operation was about half a success. Everyone, once we’re back, let’s do a full recheck."

"Understood."

As the mercenaries replied in their monotonous voices, Hoffman casually observed the situation and turned his head slightly. The mercenaries, used to his demeanor, didn’t seem to think much of it.

However, none of them noticed that he blinked twice in quick succession.

Only he knew what that meant.

"…ISA deep cover agent, Hoffman Vincent. Checking the QR code inside the grenade he left behind. Things are starting to get interesting."

"These bastards, I thought they were all wiped out by now, but they’ve been hiding here…"

"…What is this?"

"You’ll find out soon enough."

Meanwhile, inside the blood-soaked Grand Central Terminal.

In the midst of it all, Lorenatina scanned the light spilling out from the broken grenade and gave a small, almost amused smile.

Betrayal was everywhere.

Shwoooosh!

The hot water from the shower washed away all the dirt from my body. The blood that had stained my skin was to be expected, but the most unpleasant part was what I had done to the floor... that too was now washed away and flowed down the drain.

Of course, I wasn’t the only one showering. The two other mutants like me were also cleaning up. The floor was red. The amount of blood on them was far more than mine.

By now, the clothes covered in gunpowder smoke, sweat, enemy blood, and even... my own urine would probably be in the laundry. I never thought I’d be doing laundry at midnight.

My body now felt much lighter than before.

Thanks to all the surrounding reconnaissance, some shower supplies had come in, though not enough for everyone staying in Central Park.

For tonight, I could shower using the shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. My body was refreshed, but my mind was a mess. No need to explain why.

The first battle had been incredibly hard. Though the majority of the fighting had been handled by the two of them, it still felt strange to complain about being tired. Just two months ago, I was a regular civilian.

When I closed my eyes, the images of the earlier battle replayed in my mind. My head ached, and I felt a shiver run through my entire body. The hallucinations were so vivid, I could almost touch them.

Though I thought I had somewhat prepared for this, it turned out to be nothing like I imagined. Was taking this gear really a mistake? Could I truly face the future? I wasn’t sure of anything.

But maybe, soon, I won’t even have time to think about this. I might be called into action again before I know it.

This felt like the horrific version of the five-minute standby drills I once practiced.

Suddenly, I heard something behind me that wasn’t the sound of water.

It was Olivia’s voice.

"Yujin."

"…Yes?"

She didn’t say anything further but motioned for me to come over. I thought maybe she had something helpful to say. As I walked toward her, I couldn't appreciate her beauty like I normally would. My mind was too tired for that.

But at that moment...

"…Wha—!?"

"Shit, I’ve never hugged anyone other than my girlfriend... I’m so embarrassed. Don’t dwell too much on today. It’s normal to feel exhausted. If you’re having trouble, just say it, I’ll help you whenever you need."

"Yeah, it’s tough, but I didn’t expect you to hug me this tightly… ugh…!"

"Shut up, idiot! When I talk, I get ticklish from the vibrations!"

Her chest, which was too large to be called just her chest, completely covered my face.

I couldn’t decide if this was something I should consider normal, but when I felt that overwhelming softness and warmth on my face, all the negative thoughts that had been swirling in my head earlier... literally vanished.

Was this the right way to think? Probably not. But I couldn’t ignore her kindness. And... I liked it. I felt strangely happy, maybe too happy.

Perhaps, just maybe, PTSD could be treated with... a woman’s chest. It’s just that in the military, women are incredibly rare, making this all the more difficult to come by.

Regardless, the happy moment ended. But now that the ice had broken, I figured if I ever asked Olivia again... maybe she’d hug me once more.

The shower was done, and I dried off, feeling far lighter than before. The next task, unfortunately, was... firearms import. That couldn’t be postponed. After that, there was an After-Action Review (AAR).

Thankfully, the Icarus Gear itself acted as an action cam, and as long as I submitted that to the higher-ups, I wouldn’t have to report the operation separately... though I’d still have to get some sleep at dawn.

As I started to focus on something else to take my mind off the overwhelming emotions, I overheard the conversation of the two mercenaries who had been by my side.

"So, another mutant is coming? This time, from the army?"

"Ex-1st SAC. To put it in simpler terms... Delta Force. How is it that we always get a mutant from Tier 1?"

"Think of it the other way. There were probably more. But they’re all dead now, and only the survivors are coming here."

"Quit with the ominous talk, damn it."

This was the kind of conversation that made me feel even more out of place.

"Do you know what animal the new guy is? Could be another woman, right?"

"I don’t know. But from how they’re installing the air conditioners... maybe someone who can’t stand the heat."

"Probably another woman."

"Probably. I’ve just given up."

Considering all the mutants I’d seen so far had been women, I thought that might be the case. So I focused on that, ignoring the horrific events of the day.

The night was still deep, but I couldn’t sleep yet.

[EX-Team // Sergeant Logan Blemis, Sub Leader // Alpha-class Mutant - Model: Polar Bear]

[EX-Team // Sergeant Major Antony Owens, Team Leader]

[EX-Team // Sergeant Anton Morrison, Breacher and Machine Gunner]

[EX-Team // Sergeant William Chester, Team Doctor]

[The following personnel are permanently assigned to Central Park HQ.]

[Preparing Icarus Gear // Calculating the success rate of Gear implantation for non-mutant operators…]

[Success rate: 35%. Goal to raise to 85% within six months.]

[Time to arrival: D-?.]