Returning to Paradise
Quite some time had passed since the suffocation operation on the way home. Now, nothing moved on the streets. The mutants had long since died off, and no humanoid Infected stood upright anywhere. Most lacked even the strength to stay on their feet, slumped over instead. Plenty had entered hibernation, but that was as good as volunteering to mummify themselves. They still needed to breathe, after all—even if just a little—so they'd dry out completely like that.
"Guess it's time to prepare to head upstairs. I'm missing a hot bath and my bedroom."
Sleeping in the duty room was tolerable for a day or two, at most. I longed for my own space, my cozy bedroom, the park alive with the scent of nature.
Unaware or perhaps fully aware of my feelings, Artemis was inspecting the newly trained dogs.
Attention!
The shepherds, now properly disciplined, lined up before Artemis.
It must have been tough getting this far, you foolish mammals.
"Woof! Woof!"
Did I say you could wag your tails? Do you still not understand what attention means? Your bumbling instructors might have been satisfied with 80%, but I demand 100%.
"Woof! Woof!"
The shepherds seemed unable to distinguish between playtime and training. Their eyes brimmed with pure joy. Escaping a life-threatening disaster, now full, warm, safe, with a master giving orders—that was enough for them. They didn't feel the need to want more.
Sigh. Fools need programs designed for fools, I suppose. And every program needs a proper termination point. Fine, wag away. Be grateful for my patience.
"Woof! Woof!"
Foolish or not, you're loyal enough. You've got teeth that can tear, and you run twice as fast as a human. Oh! That's plenty. More than enough. A goddess needs her hunting hounds, after all. Heh heh heh.
Come to think of it, the gods in myths often kept beasts as messengers. Watching her, I suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to interrupt.
"Walkies."
Their ears perked up. They held position, but eyes, noses, and ears all swiveled my way.
"Walkies!"
I said it louder, and all four broke formation, bounding toward me.
Oh! No!
Artemis startled, trying to stop them, but it was no use.
You fools! Come back! What are you doing?!
"Pant pant pant!"
Ignoring her wail, they sat neatly before me.
"I'm heading back to the VIP Residential Zone soon," I said, petting their heads. Whether they missed walks or pets more, their tails wagged like they had motors attached.
"Sorry to interrupt, but could you run a return risk assessment?"
...No risk factors. All large Infected have stopped, and the rest are on their last legs.
The hesitation from someone who lived a trillionth of a second per moment was a clear sign of protest. She never stuttered or lagged behind her thoughts.
You could take one of the vehicles left from the vehicle assault op—it'll be safe. Even if the Infected spot you, they won't have the strength to approach. Let alone touch a hair on your head inside a car. I've got it ready for departure anytime.
That was her—always delivering 100% in her role.
"Sorry for interrupting. But I really want to go home."
Apology accepted. I'm magnanimous, after all. That goes for you fools too.
The dogs looked baffled at her scolding. And so, the journey resumed—this time incomparably safer and more comfortable than before. No life-threatening risks, no sprinting till my mouth reeked of blood, no beatings or throws, no crawling on belly. Just the minor inconvenience of oxygen masks.
"Just hold on a bit longer."
The dogs wore oxygen masks for guard dogs, airlifted by cargo drones. They seemed a little uncomfortable but stayed calm. They'd trained for deployment after tear gas, after all. Success meant a high rating as guard dogs; failure, a low one. Only the absolute best made it here. Humans were the exception.
"What about that guy?"
I meant the Infected that had blocked me in the government building hallway.
It's been 40 hours since it fully stopped. The Assembler was unstable and breathed massively, so it took a huge hit. The price of great power, I suppose.
In recent days, Artemis had named every Infected we'd encountered—for more efficient responses and research. She'd cataloged them systematically, like a pokédex. The big roaring brute was a Lugnut; others had names and traits logged. Plenty of gaps in the data for now, though.
"Huff huff huff."
The dogs' panting through their masks sounded kinda funny. Despite the discomfort, they stayed obedient, buzzing with excitement for their first walk in ages.
"Bear with a drive for now. Real walks soon, promise."
Good luck.
"It's practically next door. You staying here?"
My duty is maintaining public order. But there are no residents or workers here. Except you, Manager. With the Infected threat resolved, I'm just on standby.
Rose was matter-of-fact.
"Bored? Swing by anytime. Channels are open."
"Boredom. That's not a topic for us."
With Rose's reply, we stepped out of the control room.
"Shh~ It's okay, it's okay."
Outside, the dogs' fur bristled. They seemed terrified of the rapid change, but followed obediently as I led. We toppled desks and lockers to make a path, then climbed out a window. No Infected on the building side. Distant ones were collapsed or hibernating. One about 40 meters away spotted us but could only weakly stretch a hand from the ground. No screeching "Kieeeek!" even if it opened its mouth—it just gaped silently, then clamped shut for good.
Seeing it hit home: I'd really done it. The Infected were on the brink of extinction.
Click.
We boarded the Retona vehicle Artemis prepped, loading the dogs in back.
Escort vehicles are waiting outside.
"They're all dying—do we need 'em?"
You can never rule out an 'if.'
Vroom.
Normally, dogs in cars peek curiously out windows, but not this time.
"Whine—!"
They'd burrowed under seats, huddling together, growling warily at everything.
"Just a little longer. We'll be there soon."
I stretched to pet one, then hit the gas.
Passing the government building evoked the desperate assault op scars everywhere.
"No wonder the dogs freaked when we flew over on drones."
Even loaded helplessly onto drones, they'd thrashed wildly here—final spasms.
The road was coated in blood, guts, flesh, bone shards. Sealed car, oxygen masks, yet the stench hit like a visual. Must've been worse for the dogs.
Vroom.
Only engine noise echoed in the silent streets. Eight vehicles around me, front back left right. No threats.
Squish.
Occasional crunches of flesh chunks or lingering Infected—otherwise smooth. The giant sea anemone that gassed the Shelter everywhere lay shriveled like a dead starfish, crumbling under its weight.
Thud.
"It's okay, it's okay."
I soothed the dogs each bump over Infected bits, driving on till we reached the upper VIP Residential Zone gate.
"No intrusions while we were gone, right?"
Of course. Not even a rat got in. You're safe.
"Rats remind me of the sewers."
They were the first wiped out. Sealed spaces like sewers lose all air the moment vents activate. Standard biosecurity protocol, infection or not.
"Got it."
One last scan around, then out of the car. Let the dogs out the back, glanced behind. Factories, buildings, roads crammed into view.
"Was nice hanging out, but let's never meet again."
Muttered curses at no one, then entered my home—my cherished haven, my paradise.
Welcome to the VIP Residential Zone.
The manual's welcome voice chimed as the sturdy gate swung open.