Smash Their Heads In!
November 1, 2053.
Uneasy.
The players were getting more and more unhinged.
Sure, with the one-year mark of transmigrating into another world drawing near, their mental state was bound to crack no matter what. But of all places, they’d landed inside Quarantine City, that utterly deranged tuna-in-a-can of a setting.
Extremely uneasy.
And now the users were about to face the one-year grand offensive, which was enough to send their minds clean off the rails.
Honestly, they’d prepared as hard as they could. But unlike a game, where human and environmental factors were mostly limited to events and probabilities, this was reality—and here, human beings and the environment were constant variables.
As if proving that Hwi-hyun wasn’t the only one feeling uneasy, the gallery itself was slowly descending into madness.
Since this was based on a game but not actually a game, even one mutation-type enemy showing up and breaking the one-year grand offensive’s usual “basic BTs only” rule could cause serious damage.
Of course, there was no guarantee that mutation types would appear. But by the same token, there was no guarantee they wouldn’t. So the users were collectively losing their minds.
The moat construction has surpassed 80% completion.
"Oh..."
Symptoms of anxiety and depression detected. Would you like to activate the psychological counseling protocol and receive anti-depressants and anti-anxiety medication?
"No... I’m fine."
Acknowledged.
Even Hwi-hyun, who prided himself on being a hardened veteran, was hit by such intense anxiety that the control system had to step in and suggest, “Want some meds?” If he was in that state, what about the others?
In fact, there were often users suffering such severe anxiety that the control system went so far as to say, “Want to die? Take your damn pills?”
"We’re all fighting our own incompetence."
*
November 10, 2053.
The wall upgrade has been completed.
"Upgrade it again."
It will take 30 days.
"Doesn’t matter."
Beginning upgrade process.
The wall only functioned as a 30-meter-high barrier until level 1, and as a 50-meter barrier until level 2; its defensive power itself did not increase.
But at level 3, all kinds of reinforcements were added to the wall, its practical durability shot upward, and the sentry posts at the east, west, south, and north gates were heavily upgraded, making serious fire support possible at last.
The height itself didn’t go up, but climbing a vertical 50-meter wall was impossible in practice anyway. And since they’d also dug a 15-meter-deep moat, even without water, the practical height was more like 75 meters.
If construction started now, it would finish on January 10, which meant they had plenty of time.
As time slowly drew near, the players’ madness burned hotter and hotter.
That porcelain doll of pure insanity aside, the gallery was so flooded with weapons the users had bought that it was impossible to tell whether this was the Quarantine City Gallery or the Modern Weapons Gallery.
The most frequently posted item was, as expected, the flamethrower, which was especially effective against zombies.
From crudely made hunks of scrap metal that looked like they’d burn the user alive the moment they were turned on, to sleek modern designs with polished finishes that looked fit to appear as movie props, flamethrowers covered the gallery.
"That’s not going to be very effective."
Unfortunately, all their efforts could be called pointless.
Bloom Spores had arrived from outer space aboard meteorites, which meant they had already survived the atmospheric compression heat of reentry.
No matter how much you modified a human-sized flamethrower, Bloom Spores still had the edge in heat resistance.
Of course, if you got into things like dedicated incineration bombs or napalm mixed with thermite for aircraft, that was a different story. But the players hadn’t shown anything on that level yet.
Instead, Hwi-hyun chose...
Aircraft detected. 36 units. Approaching at 260 km/h. IFF code recognized. They are from the World Union International Command.
"They’re here."
Rotary-wing aircraft. In other words, helicopters.
Because their engines drew in air, fixed-wing aircraft had a horrible setup time; every sortie meant cleaning spores out of the turbines. Rotary-wing aircraft, which rose by pushing air aside directly, were far better suited to spore-heavy zones.
-This is Aviation Colonel Robert Lane, transferred under direct orders from World Union International Command to the Roseberry Quarantine Zone. Requesting permission to land.-
"Granted."
This is the Roseberry Quarantine Zone. Permission has been granted by Command-Minister Lee Hwi-hyun. Use of Ports 1 through 36 is approved.
-Confirmed. Arrival in ten minutes.-
Hwi-hyun blew through the Tokens he’d gathered and ordered thirty-six attack helicopters.
The World Union wasn’t stingy when it came to granting authority to command-ministers, but it was extremely tightfisted when it came to selling air weapons capable of long-range transport or cruise flight.
From the players’ perspective, it was enough to make their blood boil. But the gallery’s trolls, whiners, and game-ignorant clowns had already proven what people under extreme pressure were capable of doing with a bad decision.
If they sold aircraft that could fly straight to World Union territory, some command-minister somewhere would go crazy, stuff Bloom Spores or BTs inside them, and drop them from the air. It would be a total catastrophe.
Gunship squadron landing.
"It didn’t mean much in the game, but seeing it in person is pretty damn imposing..."
Hermes Gunship.
The sight of thirty-six dependable rotary-wing fire-support machines, the backbone of the player’s air power from the beginning to the end of the game, touching down was a spectacle.
With one 30mm Gatling gun mounted in the nose, four 12.7mm machine guns on both sides of the fuselage, and twelve 20-tube 66mm rocket pods, this anti-BT gunship was reassuring in every possible way.
Fifteen meters long, nine meters wide, and four meters high, the massive machine held an enormous stockpile of ammunition inside—ammunition that would be spent for one purpose only: killing BTs.
-Administrative processing complete. Effective immediately, the four Hermes squadrons are now under the control of Command-Minister Lee Hwi-hyun.-
"I have control."
-You have control, Command-Minister.-
As Hwi-hyun uttered the line he’d always wanted to say at least once, January 15, 2054, slowly drew closer.
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