I Have Returned, but I Cannot Lay down My Gun

Chapter 731

"Well, the styrofoam is scattered on the roadside, so that’s not a problem, but extracting the oil is difficult. I’m glad I helped with the car transport, or it would have been tough. Plus, there are mutated ones wandering around nearby."

"Ahhtar?"

"I don’t know. They're draining fuel from underneath the car, but it doesn’t seem easy. There are a lot of people around."

"Tch. At this rate, we won't make it on time…"

Manhattan.

Even more famous than Washington D.C., the capital. The Big Apple, the city that never sleeps, the city with lights that never go out—New York's streets were still filled with the remnants of a past glory that had fragmented.

The survivors dreamed of when the world could return to the prosperous past they remembered, and this was no different for those working in Central Park.

However, the operations officers, analysts, and the soldiers in charge of law enforcement had overlooked one important fact.

Manhattan was one of the busiest tourist destinations in the world.

"Others are starting to gather too. Some of us are blending in… but we can't let it happen to us. There's nothing greater than the name of Allah."

"Yeah. Those damned bastards are oppressing us under the guise of war. Let’s see if they don’t respond when we get blasted from all directions."

New York was a major tourist city, drawing 70 million visitors annually, bustling regardless of the season or time of day.

All the operation officers and other officials overseeing the work were aware of this, and they also knew that not all the civilians walking around Central Park or its vicinity were American.

But they had forgotten when the Omega Virus outbreak occurred. Everyone believed the apocalypse began on Black Friday, but a much bigger event occurred afterward.

The Boldrop event, or the annual New Year's Eve event in Times Square, Manhattan.

Too many foreign tourists flew to Manhattan just to witness it. Unfortunately, most of them never made it back to their home countries and became casualties.

"…But what if we get caught? If the soldiers wandering around spot us, we could all be killed."

"Is that all the faith you have? Those bastards won’t even give us time to pray to Mecca, and they’re ignoring all our requests for better treatment! And the Shiite turban-wearing bastards won’t cooperate either!"

The reason they had been quiet for a moment was simple.

Dagger Team.

To be precise, no one knew exactly where or what anyone was doing, but victory reports kept coming from somewhere, and breaking that atmosphere would likely result in a bad outcome—simply put, they were waiting for the right moment.

But from another perspective, this was a situation where refugees with ill intentions feared Dagger Team, imagining soldiers in their minds, and they didn’t want to break the victorious mood that these imagined soldiers had brought.

In other words, the refugees didn’t know who Dagger Team was, how many victories they had brought to Central Park, or how much power they had been granted.

Naturally, they were unaware that among those powers was a license to kill.

And because of that, the refugees were under the illusion that, even if all of this was exposed, it would only result in exile at worst.

"We haven’t officially done anything wrong yet. Fuel is needed everywhere, and even though the demand for sugar, rubber, and styrofoam has dropped a little, they’re still necessary."

"…I get the gist. But if those items get discovered all at once, it’ll be a problem, so we need to spread them out. Make sure to prepare a good excuse and relay it."

"Of course. Besides, we’re not asking for anything big, right? We just want some guarantees in this rough world, both religiously and in other aspects. It’s not like we’re planning to blow anything up."

In a world like this, self-defense was essential.

Other groups were viewing them unfavorably.

Fuel was needed to run the machines... and so on.

There were plenty of excuses that could be made, and some of them were even somewhat true. If Central Park heard about this, they would probably execute everyone on the spot, but HQ was still too understaffed to control all the civilians.

At least it was possible to select those with a clear mind and use them as regular soldiers, but this was only true for those outside Central Park, not for those living within it.

This situation proved that, while America had extinguished the urgent flames, they still had no time to deal with the sparks that were starting to burn inside.

"…By the way, who taught you how to make this stuff?"

"I met someone while walking around. They seemed to have a grievance with Central Park, so I talked to them for a bit, and we became friends quicker than I expected. I heard they came from the northern part of Manhattan."

"From northern Manhattan… Hmm. I don’t have any particular suspicions, but I don’t know much other than that there was chaos there. Did you hear anything?"

"I don’t know much either. But that’s not important. They gave us the information we needed, and thanks to that, we’ve gotten a step closer to jihad. Even if they’re infidels, if they share the same cause, Allah’s mercy will eventually come to them."

"…I’m not sure about that part, so I’ll leave it to you."

There was a moment of silence, and then they scattered, glancing around.

After some time, someone stepped into an alleyway where no one else was present—no, to be precise, there was only the sound of footsteps.

As though the presence itself had been created out of thin air, or as if it had been superimposed on the space. As the sound of footsteps materialized, a man with a dignified appearance arrived at the spot where two people had been.

He fiddled with his Icarus Gear, and after a short time, he exhaled lightly and added:

"…Seems like the echo doesn’t work properly since there are no CCTV cameras around here. But it looks like… there are a few sneaky friends. We’ve caught something on our side. What about the other side?"

"This side hasn’t yielded anything yet. The rookie and the car are just moving stuff around quietly."

"I'm not sure yet. Let's approach as stealthily as possible. Even if we find solid evidence, they might deny it, so we need to clarify the route of the hidden goods, who the ringleader is, and how deeply they're involved before we take them out."

"It seems like there might even be some people stockpiling weapons outside Central Park. Damn, the work never ends. I wonder how long it will take before this boils over."

"Predicting the scope of the outbreak and controlling it is also something Central Park has to handle. I don’t think it’ll blow up in a day or two, so let’s focus on gathering as much information as we can."

Though these words were spoken, the Dagger Team’s voices still carried unease and fatigue.

They realized they still had far too much to do, and even when they returned to Central Park, there would be more tasks waiting for them. But there was no need to dwell on it for long.

After all, it was something that would happen eventually. It was Manhattan, one of the world’s most famous and populous places, so such events were bound to occur.

"…I figured it would turn out this way, but the world never lets me down. Truly impressive. Doesn't it seem like those guys are trying to make me into a Republican, not a Democrat?"

"That’s a bit of a dark joke, sir."

"I hope it’s a joke. After all, a coalition government… it’s hard to call it that with the ruling and opposition parties completely dissolved. If I want to do things my way, is that so wrong?"

"…We’re in a state of war, sir. If necessary, regardless of your political stance, we must take appropriate action."

"Mm."

In extreme situations, extreme choices are required.

Even though Henry, sitting in his office, had made many such choices already, the fact that he faced the same situation again made him shake his head.

Originally a Democrat, he had supported the U.S. security policies but had no particular interest in expanding the military or increasing defense spending. The Omega Virus crisis had turned everything upside down.

Though he had been an advocate for pro-immigration policies and foreign relations, the situation he now faced as President, having been betrayed by his own policies, was a bitter one.

No, to be precise, it wasn't betrayal.

"…When the rule of law stops functioning, what else can be expected but this?"

"Did you say something, sir?"

"It was nothing."

Perhaps, in extreme situations, cultural relativism becomes meaningless.

Many of the beliefs he had held without doubt were now shattered, and as he found himself in a position where he had to do whatever it took to preserve America, Henry felt the sharp pain of a headache.

But whether or not he liked it, he wasn’t unaware of the heavy weight he carried as the leader of a nation in crisis.

He looked over the agenda that had come up on the table.

It was the starting point of his anguish. The content was simple. It mentioned that Islamic refugees were planning something. If this was what had surfaced, who knew what was happening beneath the surface?

With a sigh, he added:

"I’ll leave the progress of this operation to the Dagger Team."

"Understood."

"When historians later describe this great chaos, I’m not sure what they will say about it. I don’t know what morality or ethics will remain when all this is over. It's a terrible shame."

"To restore those, a foundation must be laid. I believe it's a necessary process."

"That’s also true."

He gave his orders, and before long, a certain area within Central Park HQ designated for refugees would vanish, and the people inside would disappear as well.

Anyway, work was work, and if it had to be done, it had to be done with certainty.

Once Central Park’s manpower increased and they had more troops to maintain law and order, such situations might not occur, but that was an 'if'—something for the future.

Henry, still reviewing the reports, spoke:

"Is this report simply an update on the situation?"

"Yes. The operation plan will be coming soon, and a basic framework has already been established. The main objective is to intentionally loosen security and provoke careless actions."

"I get the idea."

"Some suggest that we should allow the enemies’ possession of firearms to go unchecked to ensure a more definitive response, but the opinions are sharply divided."

"How specifically do they suggest it?"

"Ah, the plan being discussed is to disguise the airdrop of military supplies outside Central Park so that the enemies can take them."

"Hmm."

A brief silence.

Henry let out a quiet breath, then added:

"Politics is a fight over how to shape public opinion. Depending on the process and results, even the most troublesome people can end up being portrayed as martyrs."

"…"

"Soldiers carry out operations, but politicians respond to the aftermath of those operations. Whether it’s to let go, deny, clean up afterward, or take responsibility..."

"Is that so?"

"I must make sure that those people don’t end up as innocent victims."

In Central Park HQ, there were just under a hundred Muslims.

How many of them would be classified as dangerous, and how many would end up in the afterlife, in the 'Al Janna'—the Islamic paradise?

Henry swiped the holographic list of their details with his hand and spoke:

"The cause will be mine to create. You all do what you must."

"Understood, sir."

As the aide left the office, Henry murmured:

"Lord, lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil…"

Whether or not that whispered prayer reached the heavens, no one could say.