The radio operator’s words were enough to freeze everyone in place.
Communications with Outpost Four could not be established.
Which meant, in other words, that something had happened there.
“Mm……”
Captain Kim, who had accompanied us, let out a low groan.
Originally, he wasn’t supposed to take part in operations with us, but since this was our first mission, he had come along.
Therefore, he was also the commanding officer for this operation.
“…What do you think?”
But he asked for our judgment first.
Was it because there would be many times in the future when we would have to go out on operations by ourselves?
The one who stepped forward most confidently in response was Kim Jihu.
“We must proceed. Our destination is not here, after all, so it is only right that we take the risk upon ourselves.”
“…I agree. Did we have any other choice anyway?”
At my added remark, everyone let out a hollow laugh.
Everyone here had gathered with their own purpose.
They were people who had something they had to accomplish, even if it meant disregarding their own lives.
But among such people, only Kim Jihu, who had stepped forward purely out of chivalrous spirit, was upright.
“…That’s right. We can’t turn back.”
At Elder Owlbear’s words, everyone finally broke free from their tension.
I could feel the atmosphere change.
Yeah, that’s how it should be. If we hadn’t even prepared ourselves that much, we would have gone back to the isolation facility long ago.
Just as everyone’s mood began to heat up, Min Aji raised her hand.
“…Wait a moment.”
“…What’s wrong?”
“I smell something. A fishy smell… Urp!”
Min Aji suddenly mimed retching.
At those words, the intellectual-looking orc man grimaced.
“…It’s the smell of blood.”
Rattle, rattle.
The deuce-and-a-half moved toward Outpost Four.
The weather was, damn it, overcast.
As the headlights cut through the thick-lying fog,
even though there was no one gathered here who hadn’t steeled themselves, the deuce-and-a-half was chillingly silent.
*
The silence continued until we arrived at Outpost Four.
“…We’ve arrived.”
When we reached our destination, even the rattling deuce-and-a-half came to a stop.
Captain Kim spoke in a voice that showed not the slightest tremor.
“…Let’s get out.”
At his words, everyone poured out.
No one so much as opened their mouth, and yet the air about them was sharp.
Among us, Elder Owlbear and Min Aji, who had gained sensory abilities, focused on keeping watch over the surroundings.
“Uuugh…!”
In the meantime, Min Aji kept dry-heaving, as if the smell of blood was truly that thick……
“Are you all right?”
“…I’m fine, I’m fine.”
Even so, she did not give up and continued to sharpen her sense of smell.
Through that, we learned two things.
“…I can’t pinpoint the location. The smell of blood is everywhere……”
“…It’s the same for me. I still can’t hear anything unusual.”
It wasn’t very useful information, but it was always better than having none.
“…Everyone, keep watch on the surroundings as we enter the outpost.”
“…I’ll take the lead.”
Elder Owlbear slowly advanced, holding the riot shield in front of him.
We followed behind him, watching all directions.
‘…This is creepy.’
Perhaps because of the thick fog, Outpost Four looked eerily haunted.
The atmosphere made it feel as if something would happen at any moment.
Overwhelmed by that atmosphere, we arrived right in front of the outpost door.
Bang, bang!
Elder Owlbear knocked on the door and shouted.
“Is anyone inside!”
But no answer came back.
Just in case, he knocked a few more times, but there was still no reply.
“…Let’s enter. Elder.”
“Yes.”
Elder Owlbear raised the sledgehammer high.
And then……
Bang—!
With a tremendous roar, the outpost door flew off.
At the same time, Elder Owlbear entered with the riot shield held before him.
The orc man and Min Aji followed behind him, taking control of the space.
For people who had only trained for a week, their movements looked fairly convincing.
Just as everyone stood tense, fingers on their triggers, Elder Owlbear raised his hand.
“…It’s empty.”
At those words, everyone lowered their muzzles.
It was just as Elder Owlbear had said.
The inside of the outpost was empty.
It wasn’t all that spacious to begin with, so we could confirm it at a glance.
“…First, let’s search the interior. I’ll try repairing the door, so I’ll leave it to you.”
After saying that, Captain Kim took out a toolbox and began tinkering with the door.
Well, it didn’t exactly look easy.
My gaze turned toward the inside of the outpost.
The interior of the outpost was strangely orderly.
It was certainly a scene that did not match the stench of blood Min Aji had smelled outside.
On the desk sat a paper cup, half-drunk, and in the corner hung a neatly arranged winter coat that still seemed to hold some warmth.
It was an utterly ordinary, everyday sight, as if someone had been here only moments ago.
But in this situation, that very normality felt the most abnormal of all.
“……There’s still warmth.”
I muttered as I touched the paper cup on the desk.
The sweet scent of instant coffee brushed the tip of my nose. Heat that had yet to fade passed through my palm.
It was proof that, only a few minutes ago, someone had been here, drinking coffee and passing the time.
“Ms. Min Aji, does it still reek of blood outside?”
Captain Kim asked as he fixed the door. Min Aji sniffed, looking back and forth between the inside and outside of the outpost, then nodded with a pale face.
“…Yes. It’s like the world is split by a single door. Outside is like a slaughterhouse, but inside is… too clean. That makes it even creepier.”
Elder Owlbear set his shield on the floor and examined the situation board attached to the wall.
His sensitive ears trembled once more.
“I hear nothing. No signs of resistance, no screams. Not even the sound of friction from someone being dragged away. …It’s as if they vanished like smoke.”
I suddenly looked at the mirror hanging on the wall.
Reflected there was the image of an angel with drooping wings and anxious eyes.
A sense of wrongness.
The entire situation we were experiencing now was one giant mass of contradictions.
They said the mimic beasts peeled off skin and shared memories. If so, there was a high chance this orderly scene was an artificial peace created by them.
Yu Inha, the naga beastman who had been pacing in the corner, pointed with trembling fingers at a logbook near the radio.
Captain Kim approached and opened the logbook. I also quietly leaned my head in and checked the contents.
The logbook contained ordinary records from the soldiers, until on the very last page, there was a hastily scrawled entry.
[02:40 - Heard the sound of a baby crying near the sewer on the right side of the outpost. Presumed to be a civilian survivor. Team 1 dispatched to confirm.]
“A baby… crying?”
It was the moment Yu Inha read that passage aloud.
Waaah—! Waaaaah—!
As if it were a lie, a sharp infant’s scream pierced through the fog from outside.
“……!”
The timing was far too perfect. As if it had been waiting for us to read that log.
Elder Owlbear caught the source of the sound.
“Over there! Right in front of the outpost, across the road, from inside the sewer!”
The sound was desperate. The sound of a newborn wailing as if it might stop breathing at any moment was more than enough to stir a human’s instinctive compassion.
But everyone here found themselves unable to readily move.
This place was the boundary of the blackout zone.
I remembered the warning the officer had drilled into our ears.
All suspicious persons were to be assumed to be mimic beasts.
Shoot to kill, without exception.
“…But are we really supposed to judge a newborn baby as a suspicious person?”
Someone said that. It was a woman’s voice, but it was hard to tell who.
In truth, there was no need to identify her.
Because deep down, all of us agreed with those words.
No matter how much the world was overrun by immortal monsters, how many humans could hear the cries of a newborn baby and still pull the trigger?
I glanced at Captain Kim.
His hand was trembling, unable to move.
And the same was true for Kim Jihu.
Since he had volunteered out of chivalrous spirit, it seemed he was shaken greatly by this kind of doubt.
I, too, was greatly shaken by such doubt.
No, I should have been.
I suddenly looked up at my halo.
The halo was giving off a brighter light than usual.
The difference was so faint that only I, who lived with the halo constantly above me, could notice such a slight change.
And the wave of holy power that began from that faint change……
‘…I need to get a grip.’
Held my mind steady.
“…Captain Kim.”
“Yes, yes…… This is why I hate those bastards……”
“If you have any grenades left, give me one.”
Captain Kim carefully handed me a grenade. I firmly grasped the grenade I had only handled a little during training.
Without hesitation, I pushed through the fog and stood over the manhole from which the baby’s cries were coming.
Then, click.
I pushed the grenade down into the manhole.
Boom—!
Even though one grenade had gone off, the baby’s cries could still be heard.
Waaah—! Waaaah—!
Which meant it was a monster.
I threw the remaining grenades down there.