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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Zaped
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A few days later, on the parade ground of the 8th National Gendarmerie Special Task Force…
Every officer of the Special Task Force stood in formation, lined up like new recruits.
The 8th Gendarmerie Commander had announced a personal inspection of the unit.
The officers in the back ranks murmured amongst themselves, their eyes fixed on the lone figure standing at attention in front of them: Commander Virginia Helford.
She wore the same uniform as them, the same design, the same fabric, yet it seemed to fit her perfectly, accentuating her every curve.
“Are we sure that’s the same uniform? Did she have it tailored? It actually looks like a military uniform on her. Ours look like potato sacks.”
The lighthearted jokes masked their underlying discontent.
They were on edge, their frustration simmering just below the surface.
The Operations Officer from the Intelligence Department was no exception.
“Intelligence Officer, between you and me, I’m starting to doubt if our Commander is even human. A week of disciplinary confinement, a three-month salary reduction, and now she’s facing further reprimands. How can she be so calm?”
Leticia didn’t reprimand the officer.
She shared his sentiment.
“…Those Römer noblewomen are a different breed.”
Sergeant Redneck, the platoon leader from a Römer noble family, grumbled, “Even noblewomen are human,” but no one paid him any attention.
They grumbled, complained, and muttered curses under their breath.
It was all about the money, Leticia thought.
She could handle being berated by incompetent, old superiors.
She could drown the stress of failed operations in alcohol.
But a one-month salary reduction for every officer in the Special Task Force, with even harsher punishment for their Commander?
That was unacceptable.
What had they done wrong?
They had rescued thirty-five civilians from a human trafficking ring, eliminated a significant number of zombies in the surrounding area, and neutralized a dangerous gang.
The helicopter had sustained some damage, but it was nothing major.
They had returned to base without a single casualty, their hearts filled with pride and a newfound sense of purpose.
But their reward was a forced quarantine for the rescued civilians in the Gendarmerie medical ward and a salary reduction for every officer involved in the operation.
Their Commander had been accused of abusing her authority, jeopardizing another unit’s operation, and her subordinates had failed to prevent her reckless actions.
And Commander Virginia Helford was about to face a personal reprimand from the 8th Gendarmerie Commander, Camio Minto, a stubborn, old-fashioned man, just like the other high-ranking Elza officers.
A black limousine, flanked by two jeeps, rolled onto the parade ground. Virginia saluted crisply.
The limousine stopped in front of her.
“Get in, Commander.”
A gruff voice.
Virginia opened the door.
“Dismissed.”
She gestured towards her subordinates.
The limousine, followed by the jeeps, circled the Special Task Force base.
The base was clean, thanks to their meticulous efforts, but no amount of polishing could hide the wear and tear, like a faded inscription on a well-worn book.
Or like Commander Minto’s tarnished rank insignia.
“Commander, didn’t I make it clear when you arrived? This isn’t Römer. I told you to stay within your limits.”
“I remember.”
“And yet you caused this chaos? You entered a human unprotected zone and wreaked havoc? We’re already stretched thin, trying to maintain order within the protected zones, and you wasted valuable resources on a reckless adventure? And why did you involve the Army Air Force? They were supposed to be on standby in case of a riot in the city!”
“It was the most efficient way to eliminate the threat.”
“Virginia. Virginia Helford! Do you not understand the meaning of ‘leave it alone’? I had high hopes for you, a graduate of the most elite programs, but you can’t even comprehend a simple instruction!
This zombie situation will resolve itself naturally. Why are you so eager to interfere? Our scientists are working on a vaccine. It’s just a matter of time! Follow the guidelines! Why don’t you listen?!”
The old Commander sputtered, his face red with anger.
Virginia remained silent, her expression impassive.
“I don’t care what happens in those human unprotected zones. Just focus on maintaining order within the protected zones. That’s the Gendarmerie’s duty! I’m letting you off easy this time, but next time, there will be consequences! …And what’s with that attitude?”
“My attitude, sir?”
“Are you mocking me? Are you saying that you, a highborn Römer noblewoman, can’t take orders from a superior officer who was born and raised in Elza? I don’t care how accomplished you are. I’m the commanding officer here! Stop meddling and listen to my orders! Do you understand?!”
The old Commander’s voice dripped with venom, his lips flecked with white foam. Virginia, however, simply stared out the window, a faint smile playing on her lips.
“You insolent little…”
“Commander, I recently heard an interesting story. It’s not directly related to the military, but it concerns public safety, so I believe it’s worth your attention. I was about to submit a report, but perhaps this is a good opportunity to brief you?”
“…What are you talking about?”
The old man’s bushy eyebrows twitched, like the oily wings of a seabird.
“After the outbreak, when the human unprotected zones were established, the Elza government-imposed fuel rationing.
As a result, fuel prices skyrocketed, and black-market trading became rampant.
It’s a serious crime, but it’s difficult to eradicate.
Even government agencies are involved in this illegal trade.
Especially departments that require frequent long-distance travel, like the Disease Crisis Management Agency.”
“Wh-what?”
Commander Minto gasped, but Virginia continued, her voice calm and measured.
“This is where the story gets interesting. As the annual audit approached, the Disease Crisis Management Agency’s fuel management and transportation personnel became anxious.
It was an understandable reaction.
They had been siphoning off fuel and selling it on the black market, creating a significant discrepancy between the recorded inventory and the actual amount.
And the agency used a special type of high-grade fuel that was difficult to obtain.
So, they devised a bold plan.
They couldn’t acquire more fuel, so they decided to compensate for the missing amount by reducing their consumption.
They would record 100 units of fuel used in their reports, but in reality, they would only use 80 units, pocketing the difference.
And then, a large-scale medical aid mission to Hampton City was scheduled. It was a ‘top secret’ operation, designed to avoid attacks from the Elza liberation terrorists.
It was so secret that they could even change the route from the ‘safe but longer’ route to the ‘slightly dangerous but shorter’ route without anyone noticing.”
“What are you talking about? How dare you make such accusations! Even if it’s true, it’s an administrative matter! It has nothing to do with the military!”
“Is that so?”
Virginia’s eyes, filled with a chilling intensity, locked onto the Commander’s.
It was the gaze of a young, hungry predator, sizing up an old, toothless tyrant.
The Commander, completely overwhelmed, only then realized that Virginia had dropped all formalities, addressing him with disrespect.
“It’s strange, isn’t it? Medical personnel are valuable. Especially Disease Crisis Management Agency doctors. And yet, the Elza government, despite knowing that they had been captured by a gang, did nothing.
They even tried to deny it.
They refused to authorize a rescue mission.
If my team and I hadn’t gone into that hellhole and pulled them out, they would have been sold as slaves.
And yet, instead of commending us, the military and the government punished us.
Why?
The reason is simple.
The fuel embezzlement wasn’t just the work of a few rogue employees.
It was a systemic issue, condoned by the higher-ups. It was a way for them to line their pockets without getting their hands dirty.
And who else benefited from this corruption?
The Gendarmerie, the organization tasked with maintaining order in the occupied territories, upholding law and justice.
But if a new Gendarmerie commander came along and tried to clean up this mess, the truth would be exposed.
So, they decided to make an example of her, to discourage any further attempts at reform, to maintain the status quo…”
The Commander, his face pale, glanced at the driver.
The soundproof partition should have prevented him from hearing their conversation.
“…Y-you have no proof…”
“Don’t I?”
Virginia pulled out a cigarette and lit it, taking a long drag.
The air filled with smoke.
“One of the civilians we rescued was a member of the convoy’s security detail. He was disguised as a doctor, but we noticed a military tattoo and pressed him for information. He confessed everything.
He had a reason for betraying his superiors.
His mission was to protect the medical personnel and the supplies, and he knew he would be held responsible for the security breach.
So, he offered his own defense.
He claimed that they had been ambushed because they had taken the dangerous route. If they had taken the safe route, he could have protected them… It was a desperate attempt to mitigate his punishment.
By the way, he’s currently under the care of the Special Task Force medical unit. We transferred him from the Gendarmerie medical ward this morning. We have his testimony, recorded and documented. It’s a ticking time bomb. And when it explodes, it will be spectacular.”
The acrid smell of cigarette smoke filled the limousine.
The Commander was a smoker himself, but he preferred milder brands. His face twitched.
“…Or so I could claim, Commander.”
Virginia smiled, a cruel twist to her lips.
“You… you insolent little brat… you learned all the wrong lessons…”
She tapped on the bulletproof partition separating them from the driver.
The driver, without waiting for permission, stopped the limousine.
The jeep in front of them came to a halt as well.
“Wh-what’s going on? Why did you stop the car? Answer me! Driver! Driver!”
The driver, ignoring his frantic cries, opened the door and stepped out.
He joined the soldiers in the jeep, laughing and joking.
“You… you crazy…”
The doors were locked.
Virginia exhaled a plume of smoke.
“How old are you, Commander?”
“Why do you ask?”
“You’re quite old, aren’t you? Working tirelessly for our nation. Late nights. Epidemic management. Stress. At your age, unexplained heart attacks are quite common. Strokes too. Statistically speaking, of course.”
She finished her cigarette, crushing the burning ember against the leather seat.
The butt tumbled to the floor, bouncing off the Commander’s polished boots.
“Nice boots. Genuine leather? You need to stay healthy, at least until you’ve worn them in. You need to be able to walk out of here on your own two feet.”
The Commander’s face turned pale.
He clutched his chest, gasping for air.
“…You… you won’t get away with this. The names Römer and Helford won’t protect you forever, you arrogant child.”
“I’ve heard that many times before. Even within the walls of the Helford estate.”
Virginia rolled down the window and tapped on the door.
The driver rushed back and started the limousine.
The jeep in front of them followed suit. As the stale air inside the vehicle was replaced with fresh air, the Commander’s breathing returned to normal.
“…Alright. What do you want?”
“I want the Special Task Force and the Army Air Force’s honor restored. Especially the honor of my subordinates. They performed exceptionally well, exceeding my expectations.”
“That’s not all, is it…!”
He couldn’t bring himself to call her a “viper.”
He didn’t want to wake up paralyzed tomorrow morning.
Virginia was a ruthless woman, a woman who had bitten back the white viper that had sunk its fangs into her ankle when she was just a child.
“There is one more thing. I’m concerned about the health of the rescued civilians. I request an extension of their quarantine period. That’s all.”
“Are you sure that’s all?”
“That’s all, Commander.”
“…Very well.”
Silence descended upon the limousine.
Virginia had lost interest in the old man.
Her mind was still on V, the man who had slipped through their grasp.
Her fingers twitched, itching for a rematch.
He understands zombies.
I need him for my plan.
If the Elza intelligence moderates are that capable, they could be a valuable asset.
V’s whereabouts were unknown.
So, Virginia decided to focus on another lead.
The doctor who had been in the van with him.
The busty woman who kept calling herself “Cassandra,” her true identity and motives a mystery.
She would use her to find V.
It would take time, of course. But that was part of the thrill of the hunt.
Following a trail of clues, a series of footprints, slowly weakening her prey, severing its tendons one by one, until it was finally helpless, its mouth agape, ready to be devoured.
The thought of the hunt sent a thrill of excitement through Virginia, her heart pounding in her chest.
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I yawned, stretching my arms as I climbed into the driver’s seat.
I turned on the radio.
“Good morning, citizens of the Elza Chimera Province. This is the 9 AM news from the Chimera Broadcasting Corporation. Prime Minister Joseph Gran visited the 1st Army Air Force and the 8th National Gendarmerie Special Task Force yesterday, commending the soldiers for their hard work.”
My breakfast consisted of half a can of canned peaches and a can of mackerel.
The mackerel had been deboned and cooked thoroughly, so the texture wasn’t too bad.
“…The Elza Army emphasized that the top-secret military operation near Lambert Village had resulted in the rescue of thirty-five innocent civilians, including doctors and nurses, and that there were no casualties or property damage.”
Both were Kibele brand, of course.
The packaging promised a variety of flavors, but they all tasted the same.
It was like a bland tomato paste mixed with fish sauce and wasabi.
“Commander Camio Minto of the 8th National Gendarmerie stated that it was the Gendarmerie’s duty to protect the lives and property of Elza citizens and pledged to continue their efforts in managing the zombie outbreak.”
I scraped the remaining sauce from the can lid and tossed it into the empty can.
I had a makeshift stove, a few burning branches arranged on the ground, with a mess tin perched precariously on top.
I was going to grill the mackerel.
“He also dismissed the rumors of a failed operation to neutralize the Elza radical liberation terrorist cell in the central region, promising to release a detailed report through the Army Public Affairs Office.”
The mess tin, coated with a thin layer of soybean oil, was heating up nicely.
I placed a piece of mackerel on the hot metal, and it sizzled, the white flesh turning a golden brown.
The aroma of grilled fish filled the air, a welcome change from the blandness of the canned food.
“The Army will continue to… We apologize for the interruption… a rat? What’s a rat doing… rats! A swarm of rats is invading the studio…!”
I looked at the open can of peaches, debating whether to add the syrup to the mackerel.
I wasn’t going to eat the peaches themselves.
The sugary syrup was too tempting.
“Zombie rats! They’re zombie rats! Get out of here! Their bites are infectious! Run! Honey, honey… click… click… beep… beep… static.”
I decided to compromise, adding just a touch of syrup to the mackerel, enough to enhance the flavor without making it too sweet.
It wasn’t healthy, but it was too good to waste.
I lifted the mess tin.
The mackerel, perfectly grilled, flaked apart as I poked it with my fork.
I ate slowly, savoring the flavor.
The canned peaches, too sweet to be considered a dessert, too substantial to be a side dish, provided a welcome burst of artificial sweetness.
The radio was silent.
I switched frequencies. Classical music filled the air.
It was the perfect soundtrack for mundane tasks like washing dishes.
I poured some water into the mess tin and scraped off the burnt bits with my fork.
I hadn’t overcooked it. The water started to boil.
I extinguished the fire, covering the embers with sand, then placed the lid on the mess tin, shaking it vigorously to sterilize it.
I longed for soap and a sponge.
The salty-sweet taste lingered in my mouth.
I needed carbohydrates. A slice of bread, a spoonful of rice with kimchi…
I had three boxes of food from Lambert Village.
One box contained canned fruit, another contained canned mackerel and saury, and the last one contained MREs.
I was trying to avoid the MREs.
I wanted to save them for emergencies, and their value would skyrocket as supplies dwindled.
I also needed a new windshield for the van.
Toilet paper.
Wet wipes.
A mattress.
More water bottles.
Another flashlight.
I couldn’t put it off any longer.
I needed to go to a supermarket.
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