Rescue Operation (1)
“Per quarantine protocols, they'll need to undergo checks in the isolation zone for a while after arrival.”
[Of course. But can we separate the prisoners from the guards in their living quarters?]
“We'll accommodate as best we can, but I can't guarantee it.”
[Understood. So what do we need to do?]
In this fucked-up world, no one's picky about hot meals versus cold ones.
“Tell them a rescue team's on the way, so stay calm and wait. Just broadcast that they need to follow our instructions to the letter.”
[The east wing prisoners might listen, but the west wing ones won't be easy.]
“We've got plenty of armed guards. Make it crystal clear: anyone who doesn't comply gets crushed without mercy. No one's giving a shit about prisoner rights anymore. Your crew's way wilder than I expected, so we have no choice.”
Lee Seyoung seemed satisfied with my no-holds-barred violent suppression stance. Apparently, knowing a well-armed group was standing by put her even more at ease.
[Got it. I'll relay that exactly. On behalf of all the prisoners and guards, thank you. I don't even know how to repay this.]
“Repay it with sweat.”
[Naturally. No one's planning to freeload.]
Seyoung was the type who communicated smoothly. All that was left was assembling the special forces team.
Bang! Bang! Gunfire echoed across the training ground crammed with prefab buildings and obstacles.
The guard robots fired gas guns as they kicked off the mock op. Not a single one paused mid-shot. Every round nailed the head zone on the infected-painted targets.
Bang! They didn't even shoulder their weapons. Sharing vision with the rifle cams let them aim precisely from any stance.
No need to hold their breath—they didn't breathe. No hand tremors from muscle fatigue or neural glitches. Free from all the human limits on marksmanship, these emotionless, pain-immune combat bots communicated non-verbally. Artemis's fine-tuned programming had turned civilian guards into elite reversal troops.
Bang! The last target got ventilated, and the front-line guard robots slung their gas guns, drawing riot-control shotguns.
Boom! A single kick loaded with their heavy frames shattered the prefab door.
They breached fast, advancing on the human-figure signs.
[Move!]
[Follow us for safe evacuation to the shelter city.]
[Comply with control. We have unlimited authority for suppression.]
The signs shuffled in the directed direction after the prepped crowd-control lines.
Bang! When some signs lunged ambush-style, shotguns barked instantly. Pummeled by buckshot pellets, they meekly returned to course.
Beep-beep!
The end-of-training alarm blared, resetting everything. The platoon of guard robots split into three squads and formed up.
“Impressive as hell.”
They outperformed the subordinates I'd led back in my active days.
“We've trained daily, sir. Artemis never skips updates. Some days she sends dozens of sim courses.”
Rose, the stunning woman at the squad's head, replied. Her straight black hair fell to her waist, her height pushing 180 cm. Her beautiful face was stern, her posture impeccable—no excess. A honed flower; nothing captured her poise better.
Suits or uniforms would suit her perfectly, but she wore riot gear now.
“Thank you for approving my request.”
“I was gonna ask you myself. We've got negotiations on-site, and handing full crowd control to robots worried me.”
I gripped her shoulder as I spoke.
—Manager, I have a petition.
After the meetings and comms wrapped, Rose had approached me. She'd requested transfer to an android body to join the spec ops rescue.
—Artemis's autonomous combat and crowd-control software is excellent. But we're dealing with exhausted human crowds. Having a human negotiator on-site will make herding them far easier.
Extreme fear, stress, and hunger—then heavily armed robots roll in for control? They might comply out of intimidation, or mass panic could erupt. To them, the bots might look as monstrous as the infected.
I'd considered leading the robots myself for that reason. But the moment I mentioned it:
—Absolutely not!
—Out of the question, sir!
—No way!
Rose immediately volunteered to lead.
“Moving in a second-gen android body is worlds apart from cyber-space observation. It's not just physical sensations. Real-world interactions trigger massive mental feedback loops.”
“Stress, fear, anxiety, tension, right?”
I nodded. Humans build mental shells over a lifetime of sensory input through the body, gaining resilience to external feedback. Remember fearing thunder as a kid or hiding under blankets during horror flicks? Repeat it enough, and you're chugging beer through storms while bingeing slashers.
AIs are different. They exist in cyber-space, apart from reality. Their indirect, filtered observations are ultra-refined. But syncing to an android and getting raw skin-level feedback? Night and day. Plenty of papers on AIs crashing into panic from it.
“I can handle it. Trust me.”
Her eyes burned with resolve.
“I've talked with the others sometimes.”
Artemis and Chloro.
“Artemis always talks future—her plans, the perfect city, a purified world. Chloro talks love. Started with romance novels she read, then it shifted to you, Manager. She even sent me... awkward files.”
Rose smiled wryly; I mirrored her awkwardness.
“What I pursue is duty. Maintaining city order, guiding people right, devoting myself to your policies.”
“Duty's always a solid value.”
She nodded. “I've replayed your record vids countless times. Crossing death-filled cities, wielding every skill and experience you'd gained. More noble than any duty in the archives.”
Her calm, duty-bound, courageous black eyes left me speechless.
“Now I want to follow that path too.”
Android or not, her gaze was achingly human.
“We'll succeed for sure. I'll bring the survivors here safely.”
Rose saluted.
“You're making work for yourself. Once they arrive, it'll be non-stop chaos.”
I saluted back.
“Just what I want.”
For the first time, I saw Rose smile.
That night.
“Open the rear gate.”
My manager command temporarily lifted the seals.
Groooan—
A heavy rumble, and the outermost rear gate swung open. Salty sea air rushed in, waves crashing against the cave walls. Beyond the dark tunnel stretched the night ocean horizon.
The fresh outdoor air hit like a tonic after so long, but no time to savor it.
A platoon's worth of heavily armed guard robots, Rose, and recon drones boarded three boats. Non-participating guards stood ready with gas guns and flamethrowers against any infected surprises. Sentry guns, relocated from subway spots—upgraded by Artemis, judging by the steel spikes belted like ammo chains.
Cargo drones, vehicles, and industrial bots waited behind for the temp bridge. Tension ran highest since the city normalized.
“We're off, then.”
The boats slipped away quietly into the dark sea.
Machines sprang into action, building the bridge.
The rescue op had begun.