Overflow: Isolated
Flood. Isolated. No matter how many times I insisted I was fine, it was no use. I felt like some shepherd girl. But the girl really is wronged. She always spoke the truth, yet people judged me by appearances and branded me a liar. In life, your eyes can get bloodshot, blood can flow. Sometimes you can even puke up a full liter at once. Everyone's overreacting way too much.
"Don't come out of there."
-Bam! The vehicle door slammed shut. Carmen apparently didn't agree. But where the hell is this? Transported blindfolded like a corpse headed to the morgue—I have no idea what kind of vehicle it is.
"Hoo..."
Are there other patients besides me? I turned toward the sound... and there was Carlos lying on the vehicle floor. Wait, what's wrong with this kid? His body's completely frozen solid. It's not even midwinter, and he's doing the ice man challenge? What a tough bastard.
A single qubit floated beside Carlos. No wonder the vehicle felt warm—bordering on hot. It had this powerful heater running. But honestly, isn't it too hot? If I die in here, it won't be from blood loss—it'll be heatstroke. I wanted to ask them to turn it off... but then this fool would freeze solid for real. Or rather, how much power did he draw out in the first place? I thought it was suspiciously easy for the protagonist to take down a 5.1-stage cadaver. He must've poured his very soul into it. Honestly, I'm worried he might die. Even in this heat, the frost isn't melting—his body just keeps turning whiter. Is he really okay?
Shouldn't at least someone check on Carlos? Hmm, does that someone have to be me? I reached out. Touched his cheek, frozen white. Whoa, colder than I thought. Like ice cream. By the way, I like sherbet. If I whipped the milk in this container right now, I bet it'd make some...
Umm... Uuummm... Yeah, no matter how I look at it, he's on death's door. If I'm wrong, great, but with that white frost next to me going "Huhk... Huhk..." I can't even rest easy.
Sigh, no helping it. Guess I'll share a bit of my blood. It's not like my blood's a cure-all, but for something like fever, I can replenish it. Plus, the reason he's freezing white like this is partly because the uncontrolled virus is attacking his cells. If there's something else to attack, won't it draw the virus's attention? Heh heh, better brace yourself. My blood's tougher and fiercer than any other cadaver's. No wonder poor Chun-sik couldn't handle it and broke. I really just wanted to heal him.
For now, just one drop. I nicked my fingertip and let a droplet fall onto his lips. Surprisingly, the frost covering his face receded instantly. And I can't sense my blood anymore. Probably devoured right away. Nice? Let's sprinkle a bit more.
-Plip.
This time, the frost around his left chest scattered. That's where the heart is, right? A bit random, but his condition's definitely improving!
-Plip.
Now the frost over his whole body eased a little. After dripping blood a few more times, the gasping ice man vanished, replaced by a man with healthy color returning to his face. Good, good. I can't have you dying. I got strong just to survive—not to take on all the hassle. Why would I work when we have such a capable squad leader? ...Well, honestly, if the sector was really on the brink of doom, I'd help out. But with a good worker like you around, no need for me to step up.
So live, you sturdy bastard...!
With the disaster-class cadaver defeated, Carmen gathered the scattered supplies into one spot. The vehicle had oxidized from Tortuga's attacks, but thankfully not everything was lost. The squad members' firearms remained, along with the military ration box that converted cadaver corpses into bullets. And her own machine gun, Madre.
With this much, they could fend off even hordes of incoming cadavers without worry. The critical supply issue was resolved.
"Sis! Maintenance complete! The ration box surviving is lucky, but where do we get ammo from?"
"It's right here, and from a huge specimen at that."
Carmen pointed to where Tortuga had been felled. Most of its body had frozen white and crumbled, but it had been so massive that flesh still overflowed.
"You don't mean... we're using that disaster-class cadaver...?"
"Doesn't your heart race? It's nothing like the sector's supply bullets."
"Definitely...! Just as you say, Sis!"
"Hurry and prep. Other cadavers might smell the blood and swarm anytime."
"Got it! Everyone hear that?! Make enough ammo to rot from excess—!"
"Yes!"
At the senior's command, the 3rd Squad members rushed off. Nearly everyone left, leaving the area quiet.
"Lookout, what's the situation?"
"No cadavers on radar yet. Probably hiding from the strong one's presence for now."
"Good, means we have some breathing room."
They were enjoying peace now, but things could flip anytime. This was the wilds. A place of endless predation and infinite evolution. And a massive nutrient source had just dropped in—one too huge to devour completely. Cadavers smelling the blood would inevitably swarm. With no vehicle, escape was impossible. Survival meant wiping out the horde here.
Carmen believed it feasible. The 1st Squad leader was down, but his squad was intact. And they had time to resupply.
"Rescue signal sent?"
"Yes, Sis. Vehicles should arrive by morning tomorrow at latest."
"Good. Keep watch. Report anything unusual immediately."
"Understood, Sis."
Prep was solid. Now, just wait.
Rookie Dillan thought today had been utter hell. And the worse fact? The day wasn't over yet.
-Grrraaaargh!
Their voices echoed everywhere—from behind, ahead, even the sky. If gunfire was the most-heard sound today, cadaver shrieks were second. Just hearing them made his legs buckle. He knew he was cowardly. Still, he wanted to help others. By sheer luck, his Star Adaptation Procedure compatibility was high. Endless effort got him through the enforcer exam with top scores.
But reality was different. Nothing like the dolls or videos he'd watched. Recognizing them ground his teeth. Their cries screamed from his gut. He fought it desperately. Used the gunfire as courage to push back fear. Trusted his pounding heart and racing blood.
Honestly, he didn't know how he'd survived. A patrol officer had saved his skin multiple times; he'd just dragged his body forward.
-Grrraaaargh.
Again. Limit reached. No. He could do more. He had to. He had to prove it.
-Thud.
"Huuuuhk!"
"Dillan, scared?"
"N-no, ma'am!"
Dillan realized the hand on his shoulder was Carmen's.
"If you're scared, fall back. This isn't a test. Rookies always misunderstand. 'I have to prove something.'"
Her words hit home; Dillan's eyes widened.
"But it's all illusion. We don't expect courage or skill from rookies. Just survival."
"...May I ask what you mean by that, Squad Leader?"
"Too vague? Survive, and you can do anything. Continue as enforcer, or quit for another path. Above all, we hate meaningless deaths."
First time he'd heard that. Opposite of what he'd been told since aiming for enforcer. Sacrifice your life. Die meaningfully, at least. Focusing on mere survival? Hard to accept.
Carmen's eyes held dried-up emotion. He instinctively knew its source, without hearing or seeing.
But Squad Leader... survival is ugly.
His heart chilled. The hot blood in his head stopped.
"I can do it."
"Really...? Guess I underestimated Lieutenant Dillan's courage."
He turned. Advanced. Amid the charging cadaver horde, human shapes flickered. People trampling corpses. Shoving others to save themselves. Grabbing ankles despite their lower bodies being devoured.
Human forms tangled with cadaver horrors rushed him.
-Bang.
One shot. The illusory tangle collapsed; red blood sprayed.
-Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat.
He held the trigger. Bullets poured out relentlessly. Beside him stood 3rd Squad members—and the so-called "inhuman" 1st Squad. Qubits he'd only heard of swept cadavers clean. Lieutenant Rira, pinnacle of strengthening-types, smashed giant cadavers effortlessly. The 1st Squad's prestige: each member rivaled a squad leader.
He wouldn't lag. He'd push further. Shake off the ugliness, prove survival.
The ground swelled. Familiar. Another ambush like today. Dillan stepped lightly aside, pre-firing where it emerged. Blood spurted; it stopped writhing underground.
Next, a massive mantis. Cadaver with scythes instead of hands blocked his path. It swung mercilessly with a wind-cutting whoosh. He ducked urgently, but the huge blade gouged his shoulder. Still, his aim held. He targeted the head and fired. Green ichor splattered. The mantis cadaver crumpled.
Next, wolves. Black-red fur, razor teeth. Size of three adult men combined. Several moved at once. One charged frontally; others circled, scattering his gaze. Claws flew. He crouched to dodge, losing balance. Another pounced from behind.
He whipped the barrel around and fired.
-Kiiing!
The hit wolf spun. But—
-Crunch!
Teeth sank into his thigh. He twisted to shoot, but it held fast. Others lunged. Flank, thigh, arm. Nearly all limbs mauled. Only one arm left. Flesh crushed as teeth and claws dug in.
"Rookie—!"
His uniform barely prevented amputation, but limits neared. Dillan spotted the emergency kit. Not just painkillers—virus accelerators for crises. He opened it. One-handed syringe jabbed anywhere unbit.
No sensation. Overexcitement? Miss? Unknown. Grabbed another. Jammed it in. Power surged belatedly. Pain faded. Minor wounds regenerated.
Gun first. Forced the jaws clamping his firearm. Yanked it free, aimed, fired. One dropped; the rest were easy. Headshots, precise.
As Dillan staggered up, the yelling 3rd Squad senior arrived.
"Rookie! You okay?! Don't push! Falling too far back is trouble!"
"Hoo... Hoo... F-fine."
Ragged breaths, blood soaking clothes.
"Fall back for now. Horde's thinning anyway."
"Yes!"
Heart raced. Battle euphoria lingered. Hands clenched against his will.
"Dillan, you good?"
"Yes, Squad... Leader. Pushed too hard."
"Rest."
Carmen took his gun, no arguments allowed.
Whoa, enforcers are the real deal. That massive horde—gone. I even considered sneaking out, but it's locked. Wait, is this a vehicle or a prison? What crime did Carlos and I commit to be crammed in this tiny thing?!
Well, seats recline, so not that cramped. My small size lets me use it like a bed. Only pitiful Carlos on the floor. Yeah, whatever—he's the criminal. Crime: weakness. Failing squad leader example. For further refinement.
But when will he wake? He was shivering so much I especially fed him my blood, yet he just slept.
Hello? Moshi moshi? Awake? Poking his cheek with my finger, he suddenly opened his eyes. Eek, startled me. Grabbed my wrist too.
"What...?"
Uh, what?
"I was checking your condition."
Actually, examining. Result: no anomalies.
"My condition? By you? Why?"
Sheesh, stop prying. Got nothing to say...
"You were frozen solid. Can't I at least check if you're alive? Anyway, let go."
Carlos scanned me. Then my wrist. His grip loosened.
"...Sorry. What's the situation outside?"
"No idea."
Carlos gave me a "what are you?" look. Hey, unfair. I sensed it with my internal bio-radar... Anyway! How am I supposed to check from this sealed vehicle? I'm a patient too.
"I had an acute allergic reaction."
See this blood-soaked uniform clinging to me? Glorious warrior's wounds. Etch it in your eyes. I grabbed and shook it demonstratively.
-Squelch! Squelch!
What sound is that? Kills the vibe. Feels like a kid back from the beach. Sticky on my chest—gross. But red's lucky. Even a dense, lame squad leader should notice.