Chapter 113: The Sorrow of the Weak (Part I)

Eastern Military District:

Major General Joel directed the soldiers still able to move as they carried out rescue operations amid the ruins. The vast military base—the Federation’s most advanced and largest military district—had inexplicably been reduced to rubble.

Many people had no idea what had happened. They only knew that, on that day, the commander had suddenly convened the highest military council. All the senior officers at the base had attended. Afterward, it seemed that some momentous decision had been made, and the special forces of the Sharp Edge Battalion had been dispatched to the central control center.

Rumors abounded. Some believed that the campaign to reclaim the cities was about to begin. The undead within New Newton would first be swept away with a barrage of missiles, after which soldiers would be sent in to retake the city. Nearly eighty percent of the soldiers supported this explanation. Many began to grow excited. Although most had already lost their families, the thought of reclaiming the capital and rebuilding their homeland still stirred them deeply.

The virus had struck, their homes had fallen, and countless family members had died. The soldiers had originally been consumed by grief, but the inaction of the higher command had gradually caused many of them to lose their faith as soldiers. Joel had sensed the change with every passing day. The atmosphere below had grown increasingly different. The soldiers had become more violent, their hearts colder. The once-united army had begun forming its own little factions, and fights over resources were common. Even then, Joel had felt that something terrible would happen if things continued this way.

Thus, when the major operation began, the soldiers who had been growing colder by the day suddenly became fired with excitement, as though their former passion had returned. Naturally, there were also conspiracy theories claiming that war was about to break out with the other military districts. Yet even with such rumors circulating, most people still hoped the first explanation was true. For those who had lost their loved ones, reclaiming their homeland had become the last faith left to them as soldiers.

As a general officer, Joel knew far more of the truth behind the command’s decision than the soldiers below him. At first, he had been invigorated, because the higher command really had decided to strike at and reclaim New Newton. The situation, however, was far more complicated than that.

Two strange individuals had arrived that day, brought by the leader himself. According to them, the biological disaster had been man-made, and the culprit was hiding somewhere inside New Newton. Worse, the enemy had recently destroyed the Northern Military District, which possessed the greatest military strength. Unless the three great military districts joined forces to attack New Newton at once, humanity itself would soon face extinction.

It sounded like something out of a science-fiction story, but Joel did not care. Regardless of how the claim sounded, he welcomed its purpose. He was a soldier through and through, and the fire of reclaiming his homeland and rebuilding his home still burned within him.

Then…

One missile shattered all his hopes.

Had it truly been a conspiracy? Joel gave a bitter smile as he gazed at the devastation around him, his heart filled with desolation.

“Report, sir!” A soldier dressed as a medic came running over and saluted.

“Mm.” Joel returned the salute, then asked anxiously, “How many medical supplies are left in the pharmacy?”

“Uh…” The soldier’s expression turned bitter. “Almost none. We managed to salvage a few things from the rubble, but it’s nowhere near enough. We’re desperately short of anti-inflammatory medication and medical alcohol. There are simply too many wounded soldiers.”

Joel frowned deeply at this.

More than half of the military personnel had been killed outright in the missile strike. Considering the sheer scale of the bombardment, the survival rate was actually relatively high. Although the base had been almost completely destroyed, a considerable number of people had survived.

The bad news was that more than ninety percent of the remaining soldiers were injured.

That was only natural. Aside from those blessed with extraordinary luck, how could anyone emerge completely unscathed from such a massive explosion? The only question was how serious the injuries were.

But now they faced another problem. There were too few medical personnel—only a small number of medics had survived—and medical supplies were desperately lacking.

It was an extremely urgent matter. Many people might have suffered nothing more than superficial wounds, but in weather this hot, such injuries could still prove fatal. In peacetime, wounds of this severity would have been nothing worth mentioning. A little alcohol to disinfect them, a few stitches, and several anti-inflammatory pills would have sent a man back on his feet within days.

Even fractures, including compound fractures, could often be treated with the Federation’s medical technology. In many cases, even severe crushing injuries did not require amputation.

But things were different now. There were no large medical centers available—not even basic supplies for treating ordinary wounds. It was a serious problem. In ancient times, someone who suffered a knife wound or another serious external injury might have had less than a one-in-ten chance of survival. Countless people had died after their wounds became inflamed, suppurated, and infected.

Given the current number of casualties, if the injuries were not treated properly, perhaps fewer than one-tenth of the surviving soldiers at the base would remain alive. And that was without even considering the possibility of an epidemic breaking out later.

The thought made Joel’s scalp prickle. He paced back and forth anxiously while the medic beside him remained silent, careful not to disturb his commanding officer.

There was practically no solution. Medicine was the most basic necessity. Without it, many of the wounded soldiers were simply waiting to die. The medics could do nothing. Even the cleverest cook could not prepare a meal without ingredients; this was the same kind of helplessness.

“Go and bring Statistical Officer Kyle here,” Joel ordered after walking for a while. He took a deep breath.

“Yes, sir!”

Manpower was in desperately short supply. Although Joel was now the highest-ranking officer at the base, he did not even have a soldier standing by to take orders. If the medic had not happened to report to him, he might have had to find someone himself.

The base might have been destroyed, but the soldiers still carried out orders efficiently. Before long, the statistical officer named Kyle came running over.

“Sir!” He saluted respectfully.

Something stirred within Joel as he looked at the man’s reverent expression. Almost all of the base’s senior officers were dead. In other words, he was now the highest-ranking authority left.

Who would have thought that, in the space of a single day, he would become the leader of the entire base?

The turn of events was absurd. Yet Joel could not feel happy about it in the slightest. What use was a supreme commander left with no army if all the soldiers were dead?

“Major Kyle, I asked you to make an inventory this morning. Have you finished counting the soldiers who are still capable of combat?”

“We’re still conducting the count. Fewer than two hundred men can participate in battle.” Kyle’s expression was solemn.

“Two hundred…” Joel frowned. Then, as though he had reached a decision, he said, “We can’t delay any longer. The longer we wait, the greater the casualties will be. Many of the soldiers’ wounds have already begun to fester. You understand what that means.”

Kyle’s face grew equally grave. “What do you intend, sir?”

“Organize a team and go to New Newton to collect medical supplies.”

“Sir!” Kyle hesitated before asking, “Wouldn’t that be too dangerous? Half of those two hundred men aren’t professional combat personnel, and sending such a small force into the city would be extremely hazardous.”

“As long as they’re wearing this uniform and carrying a weapon, they are combat personnel. Don’t underestimate the standards of our military district. Even the soldiers in the mess hall have undergone rigorous military training.”

“But—”

“I know what concerns you.” Joel raised a hand to stop him, then said heavily, “But we no longer have the time to consider every possibility. Whatever the risks, we have to try.”

“I understand.”

Kyle paused. Then he straightened his back, stood at perfect attention, and gave a solemn salute.

“Vincent Kyle, Major, General Logistics Department, Sixth Division of the Second Regiment. I request permission to join this operation, sir!”

Joel fell silent for a moment, studying the man whose military bearing was immaculate. At last, he returned the salute with solemnity.

“Your request is approved.”

“Report!”

The medic who had returned to work suddenly came running back.

“What is it?” Joel turned around, frowning.

“There are visitors outside the base. They specifically requested to see the highest-ranking officer here.”

“Who are they?”

“An old man and a little girl.”

“What nonsense. You came all this way just to report that?” Joel felt a surge of irritation. In the past, he might have had some patience for refugees, but in the current situation, how could he spare the time to deal with some old man and—

Wait.

He suddenly froze.

An old man and a little girl?

Why did that combination seem so familiar?

“They said you should know them. Commander Pabson once worked with them.”

“Right!”

Joel remembered at once. Hadn’t an old man and a little girl who had appeared out of nowhere attended that meeting with the commander?

But hadn’t everyone in the control center and conference center been killed? The rescue teams had gone there immediately, yet there had been almost no survivors. How had these two now arrived from outside the base?

“Did they say anything else?” Joel asked.

The medic’s face lit up with excitement.

“They said they brought medicine!”

“What?” Joel’s expression became equally animated. “Take me to them!”