Ch.196Chapter 21. The Art of Deceiving Each Other (8)

Rumors arrived at the Capital Command Headquarters ahead of autumn. They were stories about unbelievable events occurring in the Midwest region.

Tales circulated about a messiah, zombie immune individuals, and secret weapons that could change the tide.

Of course, since the capital was far from the frontlines, fresh stories typically underwent exaggeration, misinterpretation, and omission, becoming fantastic rumors. Like discarding fast food wrappers after eating, people heard these stories and dismissed them as passing trends.

But this rumor was particularly persistent. The content remained similar, but the sources kept changing. First, it came from the National Military Police intelligence division, then from a department in the Disease Control Agency, and even leaked from the Army Aerial Reconnaissance Unit.

It wasn’t just the source that changed. The content gradually expanded too. Initially, they said only one person was immune, then a few days ago it increased to five, and now the story claimed “multiple immune individuals.”

“Have humans finally found a way to counter the Cro virus?”

“I’m telling you, humans don’t disappear that easily. There’s a reason we’ve survived until now. It’s our superior genes.”

Whether civilians or officers, this was all they talked about when they gathered. The rumor had gained enough momentum to spread on its own. They say three people can create a tiger out of nothing, don’t they?

However, hopeful stories soon turned to worry and concern.

“Surely we won’t lose them, will we?”

Their gazes would inevitably turn toward the Martial Law Commander’s office, or the corridor of the building where it was located. If war broke out, Elza wouldn’t be able to hold out. Even newly enlisted civilians knew this.

“Surely we won’t lose to Römer or Minsk again, will we?”

* * * * *

The observation officer kept stealing glances at the beautiful Martial Law Commander.

She was of average height but had an excellent figure and a pretty face. Her aristocratic haughtiness, befitting a foreigner of noble birth, made her shine even more than her status as the second most powerful person after the President.

There was even a rumor that she was eager to meet a good man and get married quickly.

So the observation officer explained with an unusually polite and unctuous voice, adding personal commentary to extend his explanation.

“These are photos taken by a reconnaissance aircraft surveying the Minsk border area. The black specks you see are all zombies, this gray square is the top of a vehicle, and this white dot is a person. Looking at just this, it might appear that humans on top of vehicles are surrounded by hordes of zombies, but when you see the next photo, you’ll think differently.”

The terrain features in the background remained the same, but the black dots, gray squares, and white dots were gradually moving upward. The zombies weren’t gathering to devour the people in the center. They were all moving in one direction together.

“Can we determine their direction of movement?”

“Yes. The aviation unit constantly patrols this area…”

“Just the conclusion, briefly.”

Virginia’s violet eyes glared at the observation officer. The officer swallowed hard. What should have been unapproachable dignity sounded more like the hissing of an angry snake. A danger signal.

“The massive procession of zombies, people, and vehicles is spreading out to surrounding small and medium-sized cities. They stay for a certain period, occupy the area, and then branch out in all directions. It’s like an army advancing. According to my analysis…”

The observation officer was prepared to offer “a more expert commentary on the current situation.” Virginia would surely be impressed by his insights, and if given more opportunity, perhaps she would invite him, saying, “I’m curious, perhaps we could have dinner together…”

“I understand. Continue to observe. And to ensure your work hours are protected, only brief me directly when I request it, and submit concise reports to my aide. That is all.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

As soon as the officer left, Virginia rummaged through her uniform pocket and put a cigarette in her mouth. She’d been wanting to smoke for a while, and the clueless man dragging things out had irritated her considerably.

“V. I told you to see what you could do…”

The plan had gone awry.

The moment Elza declared war, Minsk would launch a full-scale conflict. Minsk, lacking natural resources, had always coveted Elza’s abundant supplies.

Additionally, Cybele Company’s and the Disease Control Agency’s medical records were resources Minsk would covet. They had even hired mercenaries to search through nearly every research facility, though that ultimately failed.

If they completely occupied Elza, they would likely gain the upper hand in the vaccine war with their superior technology, talent, and massive funding.

In that case, Minsk would be the ultimate victor in this chaos. War is ultimately conducted by people. In a situation where people are turning into zombies, no one can guarantee victory.

But for that to happen, Minsk would have to deal with the countless zombies on Elza’s territory on their own. Because Elza had absolutely no intention of entering Minsk’s territory.

While Minsk wasted firepower, manpower, and time on countless zombies, Elza would steadily gather forces and engage in battle. They would use zombies to gradually wear down the enemy, deliver the decisive blow with the National Military Police regular army, and turn the battlefield into a quagmire from which Minsk could not extract itself…

Virginia herself knew better than anyone that Elza couldn’t defeat Minsk in a full-scale war. Minsk probably knew it too. That’s why Minsk would have no choice but to fall into the trap, despite knowing it.

But. For that to work, they needed zombies as meat shields and living traps. Their defection was an unforeseen situation.

‘Too fast.’

If zombies cleared the way, Minsk’s regular army would invade, racing across empty land.

Whether Elza’s regular army could stop them was secondary; this situation made it impossible to draw in Römer. After all, zombies were also present in the Elza-Römer border region.

‘We need to buy time.’

In principle, if Minsk invaded Elza, Römer would automatically join the war. But Römer could decide to delay, claiming “we desperately want to help, but there are too many zombies…” However, if Elza cleared that path, Römer would lose its excuse.

At least the eastern region was in better shape than the west.

How was this even possible? How was this happening?

‘Cassandra.’

That gloomy doctor with the unnecessarily large chest must have done something. But to display this level of strategy? That was a different domain entirely.

Leticia? She was good at following orders and had good planning skills, but that was at the tactical level, not strategic. It wasn’t that she lacked imagination. She lacked ambition.

Camilla? A propaganda model. A standard-bearer calling for war. How many young people had fallen for her and joined the Liberation Front? But now zombies were following them. No matter how attractive Camilla was, zombies wouldn’t be swayed by such things.

That left only one possibility.

That man.

Where he came from, what his purpose was, how he planned all this.

All of it was unexpected. He continuously slipped through her grasp. He kept taking what was hers.

Her phone rang.

Of all times, the timing was quite peculiar, she thought. And when she realized the caller was Römer, not Leticia, she burst out in irritation. She got goosebumps, wondering why she had thought the call would be from “him.”

“Yes.”

– What the hell are you doing when I told you to return home immediately! How much more shame and ruin do you intend to bring to this family! Even your fiancé’s patience has limits, you useless thing!

“Then he’ll have to wait longer.”

– What did you say?

“As you’ve heard, I’m doing other work in Elza. I have ongoing matters. I can’t return until this is finished. And that will only increase the bride’s value for her groom, never decrease it.”

– …I know what you’re up to. I certainly know what you’re trying to do. But you’re going to fail.

“Is that so?”

Her father had never once praised her. She didn’t expect anything different this time either.

– Wielding power is easy! Just grab a hammer with both hands and swing it around. But in the end, it’s the one with power who has to clean up the mess. You will be held back in the future because of everything you’ve done, because of your past and present actions!

“I don’t care.”

– Virginia, if you insist…!

She heard choking sounds over the receiver. Her father, who had only ever given orders, was now trying to persuade her. She had gained the upper hand in their relationship.

Virginia was satisfied.

“Success means becoming President, failure means becoming a warlord. Just like the Helford ancestors. You should prepare my wedding dress. Tell my prospective groom to bring an equal dowry. Wouldn’t that be fitting for the Helford standard?”

– …

The call ended. Virginia was satisfied. She took a deep drag from her cigarette. Preparation. Precaution. She had done it all, laid out the spider web, but even she hadn’t predicted it would happen today.

Virginia rang the call bell.

“Is my aide there?”

The personal aide who had been waiting outside entered. He was much smarter and more clever than the previous aide who had turned into a zombie. Above all, he didn’t ask unnecessary questions.

“You called for me, Commander?”

“Yes. Call a meeting for all the Capital Defense Force commanders, lieutenant colonel rank and above. Current time is 15:30. Have them assemble in the main conference hall by 17:00.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The aide didn’t leave, waiting for the next order. This too was satisfactory. Virginia took out another cigarette and placed it between her fingers.

“And have all five rapid response teams ready. Position Teams 1 and 2 around the conference hall, Teams 3 and 4 around the Presidential Residence, and have Team 5 stationed at Martial Law Headquarters. Tell the response team commander that I will personally oversee today’s response team training.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

“And call in all the team leaders. That’s all.”

Shortly after, all five team leaders gathered. They were the elite of the National Military Police, and though they were all quite burly, they were like gentle lambs before Virginia Helford.

“Skip the salute. Everyone take a seat.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

“Keep your voices down. Maintain silence.”

The five team leaders sat at the table. Virginia looked into each of their eyes and smiled as if receiving their pledge. Virginia ordered each team leader to position their members at the previously designated locations.

“Have you relayed the orders?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Then place all communication devices on this table now. Execute.”

“Executing!”

Mobile phones. Radios. Even emergency transmitters. Everything was placed on the table. Virginia put her long pistol on the table. One of a pair that was hard to distinguish between a pistol and a hand cannon.

“Team leaders. I’m sorry, but you’ll need to stay in this room until 16:50.”

“That’s fine, ma’am!”

“Do you know why I’ve gathered you?”

“We were informed it was for training and inspection!”

“Good. Team 1 leader. Can I expect your loyalty in actual combat, not just practice?”

“Yes, Martial Law Commander!”

The rest of the team leaders were questioned and repeated their affirmations in turn. Virginia stood up. She closed the windows, drew the curtains, and turned on the lights. She gave each team leader a cigarette and poured a glass of brandy for each.

“Smoke and drink.”

The team leaders smoked but didn’t touch the alcohol. Virginia sternly questioned them.

“Are you ignoring the Martial Law Commander’s orders?”

“We apologize, Commander. But drinking while on duty is absolutely forbidden by military regulations. Since regulations supersede even your orders, we cannot disobey them.”

Team 1 leader answered somewhat stiffly. Virginia nodded with satisfaction. But this time, she mixed the brandy with water and divided it into two glasses.

“Excellent officers. I like that. But to accomplish the mission I’m about to give you, you won’t be able to resist drinking. Even on the actual battlefield, a moderate amount of alcohol can serve as either a stimulant or a sedative.”

The five officers exchanged glances. Team 3 leader gathered his courage.

“This is not a battlefield, Commander.”

“Tonight, this will become the front line.”

The smile disappeared from Virginia’s face.