The Little Prince in the Ossuary
Chapter 61

00061

#trap (5), Camp Roberts

Pierce casually opened the ammunition storage. The soldiers trusted him well and were flexible enough when it came to formalities. In turn, the guards understood that they were in a wartime situation.

However, as Pierce began taking out a multitude of weapons and ammo, the guards couldn’t help but feel curious. Sergeant Cohen, a senior guard, decided to voice his question to Sergeant Pierce.

“Ammo is okay, but LAWs, Claymores, 777s… What kind of training do you need those for?!”

“It’s an emergency ammunition release drill. Don’t worry about it, Cohen.”

“Oh, yes sir!”

While they couldn’t hide their curiosity, Cohen and the others kept their mouths shut, but Cohen turned his eyes to Gyeo-ul. The soldiers knew his face. If it hadn’t been for Gyeo-ul, they would have died in Paso Robles. Even though he felt a little shy, Cohen tried to smile and greet him.

“Lieutenant Banana.”

“Why, Sergeant Choco Ball?”

The sergeant’s smile widened, his white teeth flashing in the darkness. “Can you tell me what’s going on?”

“Pierce told you. We’re going to have training.”

“Come on, don’t do that. I can handle it. It’ll just be between you and me.”

Gyeo-ul looked at Sergeant Pierce, who simply shrugged at him in reply. This meant that he was leaving it to Gyeo-ul’s discretion.

Gyeo-ul considered for a few moments, then, to lighten the atmosphere, he made a joke.

“I don’t know… What kind of relationship do you have with me?”

“Oh, you’re in big trouble now. It’s cruel to disappoint a comrade who risked his life on the same battlefield. Don’t do that; just give me a hint.”

Gyeo-ul leaned in closer to the sergeant, his voice serious. “If I let you know, can you help me?”

“Huh? You need my help?”

“Yes, I’m telling you this because I trust you, so if you ignore it, I will hold a grudge against you forever.”

He sounded serious, and the pair’s faces hardened a little. After a brief moment, Sergeant Cohen simply nodded.

“I don’t know what’s going on yet, but… Ha! Just give me orders. I’ll give you everything except my balls.”

He acted more like a friend than a sergeant. It might be due to Gyeo-ul’s special position, but there was also a desire not to feel distant in private. Gyeo-ul looked at the other soldier questioningly.

“Private, how about you? No matter what, will you trust me, just this once?”

The private’s reaction was quite different. He put his feet together and stood at attention.

“Whenever you want, lieutenant.”

People never responded to things the same way. Thanks to the fact that the soldiers considered Gyeo-ul their lifesaver, the private seemed to have been excessively affected by the activities that Gyeo-ul had long since accumulated. Cohen had also seemed displeased earlier. Their attitudes seemed to display the atmosphere of Able Company that Amy had mentioned.

Gyeo-ul reached out with his hand.

“Thank you, Acridge.”

It was a simple handshake, but the private seemed very pleased about it.

From the beginning, if circumstances allowed it, Gyeo-ul had planned to draw people from Able company. These two soldiers, who easily sympathized with the concerns Geyo-ul had raised, had accepted their assigned roles positively.

“Shit, the people above are too relaxed. Don’t you think? Just by looking at the training materials, you know you shouldn’t underestimate the Tricksters. Anyway, don’t worry, I’ll only bring in certain kids. And if you request it, Ashford will be right back.”

Sergeant Ashford. Gyeo-ul could remember the first time they’d met, at the Paso Robles Health Center. He was the type who wasted morphine on broken arms.

“Is his injury all right? I haven’t seen him since.”

“He came back a few days ago. He’s a strong man, so he’s okay. He hasn’t got his cast off yet, but he still did everything he could! He’s good at seducing women, too.”

Looking at the expression on Acridge’s face, that seemed to be true. ‘Then it’ll be okay,’ Gyeo-ul thought.

“As soon as we’re done with your vigilance work, we’ll gather as soon as possible… Uh, should I go to the training ground?”

“Yes. The vehicle is there.”

“Okay, you can look forward to it. I’ll show you the comradeship of Californian men.”

“Be careful. You’re basically disobeying the higher-ups’ orders. No one likes a soldier who acts without a report. Just don’t get caught. If everything turns out okay, I’m planning to put the ammunition back in and pretend nothing has happened. We’ll make it appear that way.”

“Oh, you’re like my grandmother. Can’t you help it just because you became an officer?”

Gyeo-ul smiled again at this point. Satisfied with his expression, Cohen loudly proclaimed for him to trust only himself. He stuck out his fist, and Gyeo-ul bumped it with his own.

There was more than one vehicle parked at the training ground. After a while, Able Company had joined them. ‘There are more here than I thought. It’s almost a whole platoon.’

There were no officers; practically everyone there was a soldier. Sergeant Ashford, the senior soldier present, saluted upon seeing Captain Capston.

“I heard you need us.”

“It must have been awkward for you, but thank you for coming. I’m relieved to have more participants from the army.”

“We don’t want to die, either, especially not early on Christmas morning.”

The sergeant took a look around at the battle-ready Charlie Company, sending a welcoming look to Gyeo-ul, and then spoke up again.

“But I hope everything’s fine. I’m afraid the platoon leader will be angry that he’s fallen behind.”

“Well, I can’t help that. In the event of a real battle, you will cover each company’s station until they are ready for battle. The thing that worries me the most is a surprise attack. I want you to keep the whole force out of trouble.”

“You’re right. We’re in a state of emergency. They’d be surprised without us.”

Having confirmed his mission, the sergeant approached Gyeo-ul. “This must be the first time we’ve had a proper conversation since Paso Robles.”

“Not my fault. You’ve been away for a long time.”

“I got a Purple Heart. Thanks to you, I didn’t get a special promotion, though.”

The Purple Heart was a medal given in honor of injuries in battle. The special promotion was a courtesy given to the fallen. The sergeant spoke with sincere gratitude.

“Thank you very much for taking away the morphine. I felt so tired and desperate at the time… I thought I’d lost everything. I felt out of my mind because I had already been injected.”

U.S. soldiers who were sent to living hells like Iraq and Afghanistan often abused narcotic painkillers. They got addicted and then, when they retired, were classified as drug addicts, some even getting shot dead by the police for committing crimes. It was one of America’s most common social problems.

Gyeo-ul accepted the sergeant’s thanks because he felt grateful for stopping him from going down that road.

“I’m glad to see you again.”

“Me too.”

“Lieutenant, I’ve seen you lying around with nothing to do, but…”

‘I think he’s talking about what’s been on TV.’ As Gyeo-ul listened, he felt that the sergeant was simply worried for him.

“You have to excel only moderately from now on.”

“What do you mean?”

“I have friends called DEVGRU. They’re much better soldiers than I am; in fact, they’re so good that they’ve been entrusted with all kinds of work by the superiors. But no matter how well you use a knife, it’ll get ruined if you use it recklessly. Everyone suffered because they all felt so distraught. I’m afraid you’ll be like that.”

Gyeo-ul just laughed and let the sergeant finish what he was saying.

“All right, not necessarily, but I hope this is a no-brainer.”

“Actually, so do I.”

That was the end of the conversation. The sergeant went to find his position with the Able crew.

Gyeo-ul was a firefighter; his first task was to put out the fire. He wasn’t like other executives and soldiers, whose duties and responsibilities were clearly defined. They were required to judge themselves and provide support in the necessary places.

In a way, that was the hardest role. Captain Capston, however, thought Gyeo-ul was their most powerful force, so he had been assigned to the mission.

“I wish we could pass the night quietly like this,” came a murmur from Sergeant Latchman, who was part of the same team. Gyeo-ul nodded.

“I agree.”

There was no certainty in Gyeo-ul. There were plenty of signs, sure, and the foreboding was strong. However, history indicated that the interglacial age would begin after the emergence of a new special mutant. Although no fixed length had been predicted, it was strange that it was already over.

The warning from the “sense of survival” was not necessarily correct. If the given information had formed sufficient probability, the “sense of survival” could have warned of hypothetical deaths.

‘Still, it’s better to overflow than to fall short.’

There was an old saying that too much was no better than nothing, but the worst was a lack of preparation.

The soldiers in the same vehicle expressed their curiosity in Gyeo-ul’s past. They wondered how this particular human being had grown up to be a weapon.

Control AI recommended keywords and sentences, but Gyeo-ul simply responded with smiles instead of answers.

The conversation ended there since they didn’t have much in common. While the soldiers were chatting casually, Gyeo-ul stared at the night sky with his arms resting on the open window.

He felt like he couldn’t get enough of it. Even after he was long gone, the stars and the sky would remain.

‘Anyone who’s ever seen a clear night sky would agree. I’m sure there aren’t many people who can relate to it in their lifetime. The stars I used to see in the world felt like tears.’

A long time ago, people used to wish on stars.

Audiences all over the world were quiet, too. It had been like that earlier. The moment the night sky had been captured in the night view, their messages were no longer imbued with a lack of life and an unfulfilled desire.

‘If I could only watch it till dawn.’

Thud. Everyone was surprised by the sudden sound. When Gyeo-ul turned around, he saw their sleepy driver had hit his head on the steering wheel. The soldiers threw curses at him, and the driver protested, embarrassed. Fortunately, their cursing came from friendship.

Gyeo-ul said, “I’m glad you didn’t push the horn.”

“I know,” Sergeant Latchman agreed, causing the driver to look upset as he turned to Gyeo-ul.

And then, Gyeo-ul waited again. He never knew how long it would take. The soldiers decided to set the order and get some sleep in shifts. They played rock-paper-scissors among themselves, and then they called to Gyeo-ul.

“You should join us, too.”

Gyeo-ul declined quietly. “The stars are bright tonight.”

“That’s very romantic.”

The soldier in the rear seat who’d invited him scratched his head, forgetting it was covered by a helmet.

“We were going to sleep in shifts of one, but if you’re not going to sleep, can we increase it to two?”

“Okay. It’s okay if I’m awake by myself.”

“Oh, I can’t allow that.”

Soon after, a snoring noise intervened in Gyeo-ul’s starlight vigil.

The soldiers were taking turns to sleep in five thirty-minute shifts. In the darkness of the deep dawn, a distinct sound could be heard among all the snoring.

Kaeeeee-

Gyeo-ul finally came to his senses.

“Did you hear that?”

The driver, who was awake, sounded puzzled. “What are you talking about?”

The soldier held his breath and watched Gyeo-ul. In the meantime, the sound emerged once again.

Kaeee! Kaeeek!

“Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!”

Everyone jumped up as Gyeo-ul shouted. The vehicles on both sides were also surprised. Sergeant Latchman, who had been lying on the roof, even slipped from his seat. Thomp. The driver was now swearing at the sudden kick.

“Which way?”

“Over there! The direction of the cage!”

“What? That’s inside the base! No way!”

The driver was freaking out. Gyeo-ul honestly didn’t understand either. How could a mutant other than the Trickster be inside the camp?

The reaction was very quick because the engine had been started in advance, its sound increasing rapidly. The sound of mutants also increased; at first, it had only been baby mutants, but now it was a mixture.

Finally, they heard gunshots and human screams. They must have come from the guards in charge of the cage.

“Push the horn!” Gyeo-ul cried. The driver, realizing his intention, honked like crazy. Other vehicles joined in, signaling a crisis throughout the camp.

The radio flooded the critical channel. Even without seeing it in person, one could imagine the soldiers trying to secure their position. Captain Capston could also hear the radio reporting an emergency to the control room.

During the run, Gyeo-ul discovered mutants wandering the streets and blew six heads off in five seconds. He knew it was a mutant when he saw it waving its arms and shouting. Its skin was pale but not so smooth. It was evident that the time after the infection had been short.

‘Did the baby mutant infiltrate and infect him again?’

As soon as he thought of it, he heard a persistent explosion from the direction in which he was heading. And then…

Prrrr-

Suddenly, the Humvee’s engine gave out.

“What’s wrong with this thing?!”

The driver hit the steering wheel, and the car immediately restarted. However, it was struggling and couldn’t manage to return to power.

All the nearby lights went out, along with the radio, which made a sharp noise and then went silent. All the correspondence, which had been busy until a second ago, disappeared. The tracker monitor, which had been clear in green, darkened to the point where there was no artificial light around anymore.

“The night vision goggles… Fortunately, they work.’

There was some noise, but they were still usable. While Gyeo-ul checked the personal equipment, the driver finally succeeded in fully restarting the engine.

When they arrived, the cage was open. The Trickster, which had left marks as if it had been crawling out of its body, was dead. It looked as if its torso had burst from the inside.

Sergeant Latchman fired a heavy machine gun at the loitering mutants.

Beyond the darkness of night, gunfire flashed outside the camp continuously, like lightning. Soon, explosions and even brighter flashes could be seen. The landmines had been detonated.

The attack had already begun.