"…Is that so? Baker, that bastard, finally…"
"...?"
"Such a strange world. The favor that bastard gave you while he was dying, has co back to you like this. Damn bastard... Thanks, kid. Thanks to you, that bastard didn’t waste his steps after all."
"...I don’t really understand what you’re saying..."
"Yeah, I figured."
The battle had passed through the Maymoniz dical Center.
The cold, refrigerated air was faintly filled with the nauseating sll of blood. By now, his subordinates were probably throwing the bodies outside—Captain Parkwson thought as he looked at the dog tags of Sergeant Baker, which he was holding.
A small piece of tal, with the na, social security number, blood type, and religion. Along with the map, and a note that the kid, who introduced herself as Eugene, had been carrying.
It seed like an insignificant trace left by the death of one person. He swallowed the terrible bitterness that rose in his throat and added, addressing the sergeant, Mitchell, who was the only woman in the squad here, the one waiting nearby.
"…Mitchell. Make sure to take care of this poor guy. I need to contact civilians. I should find out if anyone here speaks Korean. By the way, this kid isn’t from North Korea, right?"
"South! South Korea, sir...!"
"Got it, got it."
He waved his hand, and the red-haired Sergeant Mitchell, who had been called, took Eugene outside. Eugene, looking bewildered, placed the firearm down in the command room and disappeared into the corridor.
If she could understand enough to catch that much, then she wasn’t entirely deaf, and instead of getting up himself, Captain Parkwson sent soone nearby to look for soone who could speak Korean among the civilians.
There were not many with higher authority within a few kiloters of here, and there were no U.S. soldiers in this hospital. That was why he was able to act like this.
The command room had beco much quieter compared to earlier, aside from the soldier monitoring the CCTV caras, and soon, Lieutenant Ellison of the 3rd Squad and Second Lieutenant Frost of the 2nd Squad entered the room.
They pulled chairs and began to speak.
"Do you know what I’m thinking right now, Captain?"
"You’re probably thinking about how to use that kid, huh? Don’t dream, kid. Judging by the looks of it, she’s probably not even 18."
"She said she was 21, damn it."
"Does she look 21 to you?"
"Hah, please. Asians don’t age easily, that’s a trait. Trust , I’ve been to Japan three tis, alright?"
Utter nonsense.
He sighed and stood up, with the two following him to the back of the building. He lit a cigarette with a sigh as the last of it burned.
"Is the manpower really that short?"
"There was never enough manpower. The point is, the situation is so bad that we need to borrow that kid's help now. You know Baker and Sergeant Bentley were killed sowhere in Mapleton, right?"
"…I wouldn’t be surprised. We should have gotten out of this hellhole faster. Brooklyn’s already a lost cause. With the fragnted forces like this, we might barely be able to hold Manhattan."
"When’s the boat coming? I hope they don’t send us so Zodiac boat like last ti. I’d prefer to avoid that kind of shit."
"I don’t know."
He threw the butt of his cigarette aside and continued.
"To be honest, they might just send a transport helicopter and that’s it. We’ve got about 70 civilians here, and if that happens… we’d be totally screwed."
"If we head through the Carey Tunnel between Brooklyn and Manhattan… no, wait. I think the ventilation building there collapsed. Is that true?"
"Do you want to know how many people drowned there?"
An uncomfortable silence filled the air.
It wasn’t looking good. Even the reports coming from Central Park were dropping off rapidly, and they couldn’t even figure out what was happening in Manhattan.
The travel itself wasn’t an issue, as long as they had sufficient transportation. But supplies were getting scarce, and everyone was weakening. They had managed to scrounge up fuel from a nearby gas station for the generators, but...
Vehicles were out of the question. The roads were clogged with abandoned cars.
But the one thing that was certain—staying in Brooklyn was a death sentence.
Movent was inevitable.
But for that massive move to happen, they needed a lot of manpower, and right now, every person was crucial. It had co down to square one again.
Even now, everyone, except the elderly, was being mobilized for various tasks, and adding one more person wouldn’t make much of a difference.
Second Lieutenant Frost spoke up.
"I heard she’s pretty good with a gun. We’re not in a position to be picky. To be honest, she’s a lot better than the idiots who went off and got themselves killed early on… except for the communication problem, of course."
"Yeah. I’ll need to talk to the kid calmly. We’ll have to give her sothing to do, at least. The plan will be decided afterward."
"2nd Squad is down two people. If you’re going to send soone, send them over here. We’re running out of manpower."
"Alright, alright."
He sighed as he returned to the command room.
There was a lot to do. The unexpected skirmish had completely skipped breakfast, and lunch was about to be served. The two squads had way too much work to handle.
He needed to distribute lunch rations to the civilians, clean up the enemy bodies scattered across the facility, and the soldiers who fought today needed to finish clearing the guns. Dysfunction led to death.
But that was that, and this was this.
When he returned to the command room, he was t with a significantly tidier, and noticeably plumper Eugene.
...Plumper?
"…Mitchell. I told you to take care of the kid, not turn her into a snowman."
"It couldn’t be helped. She was freezing. She even started throwing up. I had no choice. You know snakes are very sensitive to temperature changes. It was unavoidable."
"...Alright, I understand. And the person next to you... it’s Matthew, right? Do you know so Korean?"
"I’ve been on a few business trips there. I’m not really confident, but I’ll try my best since I’ve received so help."
The sound of a chair being pulled out echoed.
A table with a polycarbonate divider was set up for conversation. She was wearing a different mask now. She looked much cleaner than before.
The tail slowly wriggling behind her bothered him a little, but at this point, it wasn’t an entirely unrealistic sight in this world. Lightning struck in vivid colors, and people were growing animal ears.
At least, he couldn’t be sure yet if she had contracted the Oga Virus, so he subtly adjusted his mask and asked.
"Where are you from?"
"..."
"When did you co to the U.S.?"
"I ca here on a trip, but I got stuck. I was trying to get to the airport, but there were too many people…"
"She says she ca to the U.S. on a trip but got stuck. She was trying to go to JFK International Airport but couldn’t make it."
Instead of answering where she was from, she placed a finger on the map.
Luckily, she hadn’t stayed or passed through any highly contaminated areas. Of course, that wasn’t a guarantee. She needed to be properly tested for peace of mind.
After that, Captain Parkwson asked her a number of questions. Matthew, the man beside her, translated her answers into English without any major issues.
Sergeant Baker’s fate was as expected. The surge of escapees recently had wreaked havoc on the surroundings.
His head throbbed, but there was nothing more he could do. He sighed, feeling the small tal piece in his pocket.
anwhile, Eugene, blinking her eyes, wasn’t left without gains. After four days in this world, she had finally gotten an answer about what had happened.
The virus.
It was the greatest cause of destruction in New York, and the whole of Arica’s infrastructure had crumbled under its weight.
As their general knowledge matched up, Captain Parkwson spoke.
"I understand your objective. I think I can help with that. But I can’t help you for free. We’re severely understaffed. We can provide food, shelter, and clothing, but in exchange, we’ll need labor. Understood?"
"You can get food, clothing, and a place to stay, but you’ll have to work."
"..."
Without hesitation, she nodded.
It felt as if she had nowhere else to go, like a little puppy that had co to the last place with people. For a brief mont, Captain Parkwson imagined it in his mind.
But such thoughts were quickly replaced by the harsh reality. He didn’t know what Eugene had gone through, but in a broken society where tragedy was commonplace, this was sothing that happened all too often.
He didn’t offer empty comfort. Instead, he opened the polycarbonate divider and extended his hand. Eugene hesitated for a mont before carefully reaching out and grabbing it.
Captain Parkwson spoke again.
"Welco to the 107th Military Police Company, kid."
After falling into this world, she had finally grasped the first lifeline she could hold onto.
It had only been a few hours since her true calling as a laborer had been discovered.
"...Ugh, English is so hard..."
My head hurts...
It's been 4 days since I ended up in this unfamiliar place called the United States, and in exchange for a room, food, and clothes, I started studying English—sothing I would never have done if nobody told to. This is where I am now.
But on the other hand, I never thought I’d need to study English this much in my life. If I don’t cram it in and practice, I won’t be able to talk to others.
I’ve never opened such a thick English dictionary during my school days when doing exercises... The old Oxford English-Korean dictionary was laid proudly on the table, but I couldn’t focus on it at all.
How do I even study this...?
‘...I guess I shouldn’t just morize random words like I used to, right?’
As I started thinking about what I might need to say most often, or what they might ask , I began to get a clearer idea of what I should study.
At least I’ve passed the topic of my tail, but just because the highest-ranking person didn’t ask any questions doesn’t an others won’t.
If they ask sothing detailed, instead of a simple "I don’t know," how do I say "I just woke up and it happened like this?"
My head hurts from thinking too much.
And...
"…I’m hungry."
I’ve eaten sothing, but it’s still not enough. I realized recently that ever since I’ve had this body, I’ve been getting hungrier. My stomach growls more often. Maybe this body burns calories differently.
At first, I had stomach issues from eating improperly canned food, but when I ward up so MREs, I didn’t feel any pain.
Fortunately, here, so of the MREs were thrown away, so I secretly grabbed a few. At first, I thought they were spoiled, but they weren’t. I guess I was just hungry because I could eat anything.
I don’t know why they throw this away.
After eating a couple of Ready-to-Eat packs, I felt full enough and threw the remains into the trash before diving back into studying English.
...But I’m a little sleepy.
But sleepiness is actually a good thing. Not long ago, I couldn’t sleep properly. I was tired, couldn’t sleep, had nightmares, woke up crying... I had to throw myself into sothing to escape that, and that’s how I got this room.
I’m glad I made it this far.
I decided to think as positively as I could. There were still many unresolved issues, but thinking about those would just make feel down again.
So I spent the next hour or so alone in my room, practicing English sentences, morizing words I thought I’d need. I wasn’t sure if the grammar was right. Maybe later I could try to check it with an electronic dictionary.
With this, I thought I could at least say a few things. A little ungrounded confidence surged up.
But then—
Clank!
"Eh, whoa, he, hello! I’m fine, thank you!"
"...What’s that sll? Kid, did you eat MRE in your room?"
"Eh, eat? Yes! I eat!"
"...Sigh."
Was it ridiculous? Or what should I call it? The person who introduced themselves as Mitchell gave a half-laugh. I was so embarrassed.
She smiled and asked.
"Did it taste good?"
"Yes, yes! Delicious!"
"Military food’s worst enemy, huh? Follow . Over here."
"Ah, yes. Got it."
At least I understood "Co"...
Mitchell's expectations seed to match mine. After waiting for to follow, she gave a look as if I should always have a dictionary in hand when coming out, and then we both headed sowhere.
Luckily or unluckily, the Maymoniz dical Center was massive. It was almost the size of ten soccer fields combined. Because of that, a huge amount of supplies could be stored here.
This... viral apocalypse, I guess, is what you’d call it. In this semi-destroyed world, it was thanks to the size of the dical center that they were able to feed more than 70 civilians. I’d heard that if you searched nearby houses, warehouses, and buildings, you could find so food.
As we moved, Mitchell would occasionally stop, pull out the English-Korean dictionary, and write down words with their Korean anings. It seed like writing Korean wasn’t too difficult for her since it was based on sets of straight lines and circles.
When she handed a mo, the main point of it was:
This facility stores a large amount of supplies, but distributing and moving them requires a significant amount of labor. You’ll soon be helping with that task.
"…Ah, yes! Yes! I understand! I’ve done this kind of work before!"
"...That’s your howork. Now translate what you just said into English."
"Eh, what?"
How do I say that? "Part-ti job"? Is part-ti job even the right word in English? Isn't that Konglish?
I was quick to recall "part-ti job" from my mory, but by the ti I was figuring that out, Mitchell and I had arrived at the back of the dical center at the logistics warehouse.
She quickly introduced to the soldiers working there. I didn’t understand a word of what was said, but the soldiers in grayish military uniforms waved over, brought a cart, and began filling it with items.
Thankfully, by then, I understood enough body language to get the gist of "follow the person ahead," and I slowly started following the soldier pushing the cart.
It felt like a tutorial mont, and for so reason, it was surprisingly easy.
At first, the U.S. soldiers loading the cart seed to be testing my stamina by not loading too many items on it. But as ti went on, they began stacking high piles on the cart. I didn’t feel any difficulty at all and increased my pace.
By the ti I finished, the others looked at with expressions that seed to say, "At least this kid can do sothing."
But sadly, the work wasn’t over. A new truck arrived, and it was loaded with... barrels of ammunition.
I wondered if I should touch them, but the soldiers exchanged looks before saying to :
"Don’t open it, kid."
"Yes, yes! I understand!"
They chuckled at that.
Then, they quickly began unloading the barrels. They each grabbed one with both hands and started walking with it. When I asked if I should put them on the cart, the soldier on the truck shouted, "Explosion!"
Oh... now that I think about it, that makes sense. If it tumbles and clinks, it might explode. That's scary.
So everyone began carrying two barrels each. So even put four or five in their duffel bags to avoid tearing. Slowly, they walked off with them.
There were hundreds of barrels piled on the floor. I figured I could pick up two, one in each hand, and started carrying them without any issue.
"Eh, why are these so light?"
I stopped for a second and then put the two barrels down. Soone behind asked, "Is it too heavy for you?" but I ignored them and started stacking them in the duffel bag. I ended up stacking six. Each barrel said "20kg" on it. So, 120kg?
They tried to stop , but before I knew it, I had the bag on my back, effortlessly carrying it. I felt almost surprised that it was so easy to carry.
With two barrels in each hand and six in total on my back, I followed behind the others without any trouble. The people ahead were shocked, but I didn’t feel the strain at all.
"Ugh, if only I’d gotten this body in Korea, I’d be a rich man from loading and unloading...”
It seed like I had found my calling.
For the first ti since falling into this world, I was proving useful.
anwhile, at the logistics warehouse, it didn’t take long for the puzzled faces of the soldiers to transform into smiles.
A good laborer was always welco.
Despite the heavy load, I didn’t feel the weight at all. The soldiers had started to add more and more items to the cart, seemingly testing my strength. However, I was keeping up just fine. Their surprised expressions when I carried the last of the barrels told that I had earned their respect, though they probably didn't expect to be so useful.
Mitchell gave a brief, approving glance before motioning to follow her once again. She was now quite pleased with my progress.
"Not bad, kid. Looks like you're good for sothing after all."
"Thank you! I can keep going!"
"Good. Keep up the pace."
After so ti, I finally caught up with the group, and together, we reached another part of the warehouse.
At that mont, so of the soldiers looked at with a new level of respect.
"Hey, that kid can really work. He’s carrying more than so of the others."
"Yeah, and without complaining. Pretty good for a rookie."
"Maybe we’ll put him to good use after all."
It felt like I was being accepted into the team, and for the first ti since I had ended up in this chaotic world, I was starting to feel like I belonged. I wasn't just a burden anymore.
However, the work was far from over. We had to unload more supplies, sort through the boxes, and transport them to different sections of the facility.
By the ti we finished, everyone was tired, but at least we were moving things along. We had done more in those few hours than most of the soldiers had managed to do in days, and I could see that my presence was appreciated.
"Hey, good job, kid."
"Thanks! I’ll keep going."
With that, we continued working, moving boxes, and preparing for whatever was to co next. But despite the exhaustion and the ongoing tension from the outside world, I was proud. For the first ti, I was doing sothing that mattered.
I had found my role in this broken world. A small victory in a world full of defeat.
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