How to Be Mistaken for a Villain in a Zombie Apocalypse – Chapter 15

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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Zaped
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Central Liberation Army Secret Hideout.

The printer churned out documents relentlessly.

Members of the group argued amongst themselves, marking up the papers with underlines and scribbles.

After a while, Hans rang a small bell, signaling an end to the discussion.

“Alright. We’ve all had time to think about this mysterious individual. Let’s pool our wisdom. What is this person’s game?”

The same commotion from earlier resumed.

Hans, however, paid little attention to their words, simply nodding along and jotting down their opinions on the chalkboard as if he understood perfectly.

The man monitoring the screen disliked these “brainstorming” sessions.

While he agreed with the principle of transparency and open communication, these meetings often devolved into a platform for the less informed to flaunt their limited knowledge, whine, and nitpick.

But Hans was secretly relieved.

‘…The operation was a failure.’

Losing the briefcase.

An unforgivable blunder.

If the Liberation Headquarters found out, Hans would be purged.

But he couldn’t just say, “Alright, let’s go get the briefcase back!” They couldn’t risk mobilizing troops under the Gendarmerie’s watchful eye.

And in the midst of this, that seemingly clueless briefcase seller was audaciously trying to draw in both the 8th Gendarmerie and them.

He regretted humoring the fool, thinking him harmless.

‘This is no ordinary person.’

But he hadn’t earned his position as Central Region Commander for nothing.

When the true Elza Liberation Headquarters was established, he would surely be appointed as the Capital Defense Commander.

He had to turn this mistake into an opportunity. The fact that their opponent was no ordinary person would be a great advantage for their cover.

“Alright, that’s enough! Everyone, focus! Let’s acknowledge the facts. The briefcase bombing plan failed. But!”

“But?”

“That’s because of an unforeseen variable, not because our plan was flawed. The execution was flawless. None of us wanted this to happen. Did you? Did you?”

“Of course not, Hans!”

“Please, call me ‘Comrade’! I’m only tolerating this because it’s you. Anywhere else, you’d be summarily executed! Democracy is great, but hierarchy is essential! Say it again.”

“Of course not, Comrade Hans!”

“Good!”

Hans spread his arms wide.

“This is all because of that unknown player. That clever fellow who asks both intelligent and idiotic questions! That’s why it’s crucial to uncover their identity. Did you see how skillfully they’re negotiating with the briefcase?”

“They’re a cunning fox!”

For some reason, everyone echoed the sentiment, even raising their fists in unison.

Hans loved these moments.

The feeling of having everyone under his control.

“Now, look at the chalkboard! As you all agree, this person is not a spy from Eastern Römer. Obviously! Why would an Eastern agent ask about the virus transmission?

Sure, those Eastern fools are a nine-headed hydra, with their government agencies constantly at each other’s throats! But they’re not that stupid and incompetent.

The next most popular opinion is that they’re an information broker! But this can also be easily refuted. Stealing the briefcase while Hoot was gone? And playing both us and the 8th Gendarmerie? That’s too risky for a mere information broker.

You know what I even considered? I thought, what if, just what if, this person is one of our own comrades! I even secretly investigated whether someone from another region had infiltrated our ranks!”

“Comrade Hans, that’s a bit far-fetched. It’s possible for someone from another region to operate in our territory! We do it all the time. But how could they have taken Hoot’s briefcase? It doesn’t make sense. There’s no motive.”

“Exactly!”

Hans pointed at the comrade who had voiced the complaint.

“It doesn’t make sense! All branches are facing manpower shortages, so why would someone with such poor operational skills steal from us? For what? They could achieve great results just by focusing on their own tasks!

You all know this! But there’s a reason I’m stating the obvious! Listen, I read this in a book somewhere, the truth is what remains after you eliminate all the impossible options! Even if the remaining option seems absurd, that’s the truth!

This person is not one of us! They’re not an Eastern agent! And they’re definitely not an information broker! So, what are they?”

“So, what, are you saying they’re a spy sent by Minsk from the West?”

The person who had spoken in the sudden silence was now flustered.

Hans stared at him blankly, then clapped his hands.

Clap. Clap. Clap.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying! This person is a spy from Minsk.

It’s the only explanation that makes sense! The Westerners are also struggling with the zombie outbreak, but unlike Römer, the dictatorship, and Elza, their puppet state, they haven’t been able to implement regional lockdowns. The West is completely controlled by corporations!”

It was true. The Minsk Democratic Republic, located in the West, was known for its pro-corporate policies.

The problem was that the corporations were so powerful that they could manipulate the government.

“And those corporate bastards don’t even share information for the sake of their own profits. So what does that tell us? The Minsk government sent a spy. To gather information from Elza and Römer!

And while they’re at it, they’re trying to weaken us by pitting us against the 8th Gendarmerie. Remember? Even though Römer is currently occupying Elza, it was Minsk who invaded first!”

Fortunately, the members seemed to be taking Hans’s words seriously.

The ‘briefcase operation failure’ was now a secondary concern.

Turning a crisis into an opportunity.

That was how Hans had always survived.

“…It’s a bit of a stretch, but fine. Let’s say they’re a spy from Minsk. What do we do?”

“We contact them.”

Hans pointed to the map hanging on the wall.

The words ‘Lambert Village’ were clearly marked.

“They have no food, no clothes, no comrades they can trust. But what if we go there, help them, and take the briefcase off their hands? We gain their favor and retrieve the briefcase. It’s a win-win situation.

Understand? We’re not going there to retrieve the briefcase. That’s secondary. Our primary objective is to make contact with this Western spy.

We don’t know what we can achieve yet, but one thing is certain. The Westerners hate us, but they hate Römer even more. If we demonstrate our control over the human unprotected zone and bring Minsk into the fold, we can break free from Römer’s tyranny.”

“But Minsk is also suffering from the virus.”

Someone raised an objection.

Hans nodded, but not in agreement.

“That’s true. But… what if, before Minsk collapses, Elza and Römer fall first?”

“…What?”

Even the man monitoring the screen was startled and looked at Hans.

“Right now, we’re practically handcrafting these briefcase bombs. But what if we could mass-produce them using Minsk’s industrial capabilities and unleash a wave of terror on Elza and Römer… wouldn’t that make things easier?”

“W-wait a minute, Hans. Are you saying we should hand over the briefcase blueprints? To Minsk?”

The monitor man jumped to his feet in alarm.

“Didn’t we agree to avoid unnecessary casualties? That’s the foundation of our movement! And what you’re saying…”

“We don’t need to hand over the blueprints. We just need to arrange a meeting with ‘Fulcrum.’ And you, you keep forgetting to call me ‘Comrade,’ don’t you?”

“Comrade or not, that’s not the point! Fulcrum? You said Fulcrum? You know what she means to us, and you’re willing to introduce her to a Minsk spy just like that?”

Hans nodded and opened his desk drawer.

He pulled out a pistol, disengaged the safety, and fired two shots at the monitor man.

“Oh.”

“That’s why I told you to call me ‘Comrade.’ I can forgive you for confusing ‘comrade’ with ‘friend,’ but I won’t tolerate you forgetting it altogether. I’ve told you this countless times. Let’s stick to the rules, shall we?”

But the man was already dead.

A quiet complaint arose from the group.

“Who’s going to monitor the screen now?”

“You are.”

Hans pointed his pistol at the person who had spoken.

The designated man nodded eagerly.

Hans scratched his head with the barrel of the pistol.

“Alright. I’m forming a special task force. When I count to three, the four who raise their hands the slowest will be purged. One, two, three!”

Everyone raised their hands simultaneously and enthusiastically.

“You’re all so loyal. I love it. I’ll contact our potential client. Deputy Commander, you’re in charge of selecting four brave souls to go to Lambert Village.”

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Special Task Force Commander’s Office.

Despite her confident entrance, Leticia sat awkwardly in her chair.

A delicate, flower-shaped teacup sat on the newly replaced steel desk.

It was a pristine white porcelain cup, so exquisite that she felt hesitant to even touch it.

It was filled with rose tea.

Finally, under Virginia’s insistent gaze, she took a sip.

The aroma was pleasant, but the taste was bitter.

So bitter that she wanted to hurl the cup across the room.

‘The taste of nobility!’ It needed at least three sugar cubes.

If only sugar was readily available.

“Alright. I understand.”

Virginia finally hung up the phone.

Leticia marveled at the Commander, who was gracefully sipping her tea and savoring the flavor.

“I’ve made some inquiries. There are no Western Minsk agents in this region. They’re fools, but they know how to prioritize, so they’re mostly concentrated in urban areas. That eliminates one option from your hypothesis. Do you smoke?”

“No, ma’am. I’m fine.”

Virginia lit a cigarette.

Leticia recognized the brand.

It was a cheap, harsh cigarette with no filter, favored by the older generation.

It was called ‘Hope.’

Slowly burning away hope seemed like a cruel joke.

“Good. Leticia. It seems this V is not a Western spy. They’re not a Römer agent either. They’re not an ordinary information broker, and they’re not an Elza extremist. Correct?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“But according to this latest report and your briefing… this person has a deep affection for Elza.”

V was an Elza patriot.

That was Leticia’s conclusion.

First, they had subtly manipulated her into a military intervention in Lambert Village.

By instigating both the terrorists and the Gendarmerie.

Why?

Because they knew that the emergency relief supplies and medical personnel, originally intended for Hampton City, were being held captive in Lambert Village.

And they knew that both the Römer and Elza governments were covering it up, even refusing military intervention.

In other words, this person was hinting that they wanted the gang in Lambert Village eliminated and the medical supplies and personnel rescued.

But they couldn’t openly state a fact that even the government was trying to conceal, a fact that even the Gendarmerie had just discovered.

Especially with the terrorists listening in.

Even the briefcase itself was a clue.

This person must have known that it was intended for malicious purposes.

That’s why they were ‘reporting’ it by offering it for ‘sale.’

“As a rule, entry into human unprotected zones is prohibited without government authorization or military objectives. That’s why humanitarian aid has been denied.

But it’s also a fact that Elza citizens are living there. I believe this person is using the briefcase as leverage to force the Gendarmerie into a military intervention.”

This narrows down the possibilities significantly.

Someone who deeply cares for Elza but avoids radical methods.

Someone who can access information from the military leadership but lacks the authority to directly mobilize the Römer or Elza government or military.

And if they’re not a Western spy, and they oppose the methods of the extremists… then the most likely possibility is that they’re an intelligence operative from the Elza Liberation moderate faction.

When the Elza independent government fell, the Elza intelligence agency was split in two.

The radical faction became the foundation of the liberation movement, but the moderate faction vanished without a trace. I believe this person is a member of that moderate faction.”

Virginia stood up and walked to the window.

She silently smoked her cigarette, flicking the ash out the window.

She crushed the butt against the windowsill and tossed it outside.

“Elza loyalists who disappeared without a trace. Working in the shadows, still fighting for their beloved homeland… is that what you’re saying?”

“I can’t be 100% certain, but it’s the only explanation that makes sense.”

“Then we need to bring them in.”

It was as easy as saying, “Go pick up that cigarette butt you just threw out.”

“Um, Commander. May I ask a question?”

“Go ahead.”

“If they’re from the Elza intelligence agency’s moderate faction, they’re not going to be easy to catch. Of course, our Special Task Force is…”

“I know what you’re saying.”

Virginia cut her off.

“The Gendarmerie is both a military and a police organization. Especially now, with our focus on maintaining order in the occupied territories. So capturing a former intelligence operative isn’t exactly within the Gendarmerie’s purview… is that what you’re trying to say?”

“Of course, if you order it, I’ll devise a plan.”

“No. Your opinion is valuable.”

Virginia sat back down.

“It’s a valid concern for an Intelligence Officer. I agree, I don’t think we can easily capture someone this cunning.”

Leticia nodded in agreement.

It was a bit disrespectful to say it out loud, but it was true.

The police could catch petty thieves and deserters, but capturing a well-trained intelligence operative was a different story.

It was better to enlist the help of counterintelligence agencies.

“But I have a different approach. You know the saying, ‘Don’t burn down the house to catch a flea’? Well, conversely, if you burn down the house, you’ll definitely catch the flea. And it’s much easier to burn down the house than to chase after a flea. Don’t you agree?”

Flea?

House?

Something felt off.

Leticia blinked.

The analogy seemed a bit… off.

But Virginia was dead serious.

“Um, it’s definitely less effort to burn down the house.”

“I have no intention of chasing after this person. We need to make them come to us.”

“How?”

“By threatening them.”

Leticia couldn’t follow her logic.

Maybe the Commander was delirious from lack of sleep.

It had to be that.

She had even demolished a desk this morning.

But Virginia picked up the phone.

“Hello, operator. Civilian call. Connect me to the Römer Parliament… It’s been a while. Helford speaking. Yes, I’m doing well. I have a small favor to ask. I need two surveillance satellite channels allocated to me, and I require the support of the Elza Army Air Force. I’ll send the official request shortly. Yes, thank you. I’ll pay my respects when I’m in the capital. Loyalty.”

As soon as she hung up, Virginia underlined a section in the report.

“I’ve secured two additional surveillance satellite channels. The report mentions that the briefcase signal is weak and difficult to track. Use these channels to pinpoint their location.”

‘That was easy?’

Leticia felt a bit dizzy.

The power of a noble family was beyond her comprehension.

“Y-yes, ma’am. But the Air Force…?”

“Didn’t I say we need to threaten them? This person won’t come to us willingly. And threats are most effective when backed by overwhelming firepower. I’ll call you back after I speak with the Air Force. Go back to work. And give this to Redneck on your way out.”

Virginia scribbled a note and handed it to her.

“Purchase 20 additional single-person cages. Sturdy ones. They need to be connectable in pairs.”

“Coordinate with the detention company and secure ten prisoners. Insubordination, desertion, refusal to follow orders, anything that violates military discipline. The overall discipline in this unit is appalling. It needs to be rectified.”

“Understood. What about the other ten…”

“We’ll fill them with zombies.”

“Understood.”

Leticia stood up without asking any further questions.

She had no desire to be anywhere near a cage filled with zombies.

Alone in her office once more,

Virginia took a long drag of her Hope cigarette.

“Whatever it is, it will be mine.”

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