Ch.22Chapter 4. Lambert Drive (7)

I ran toward the difficult-to-access outpost, the one with the mounted machine gun, with my arms raised.

“Stop! Stop! Which unit are you—”

The gang members at the outpost shouted, but just then, BANG! One of the shotgun traps I had set up went off.

I fell to my knees, screaming in pain. The outpost guys hunched down and gestured for me to hurry over. My suspicions had been cleared. I crawled quickly into the outpost, almost dragging myself.

“Thanks to you, I’m alive!”

The gang buddies handed me a water bottle while keeping watch in all directions. A machine gunner wearing a decent bulletproof helmet glared at the area ahead.

“What kind of madman is causing all this chaos?”

“Me.”

I shot him behind the knee. As the gunner sat down, mourning his blown-off leg and exposing his nape, BANG, BANG, BANG. I finished him off cleanly. While lying down, I removed the gunner’s bulletproof helmet. It was sticky with blood, so I wiped it roughly on the dead man’s clothes before putting it on.

“A machine gun, huh.”

A weapon I’d always been curious about. I glanced at the street. Two vehicles were approaching hastily. I grabbed the mounted machine gun and fired.

The two cars made a sharp turn and crashed through the glass windows of a nearby store.

“Why park like that?”

BOOM—!!

The vehicles exploded. Black smoke billowed out. Thinking it was fine, I sprayed the other car as well. I managed to flatten its tires, but it took quite a while of shooting before it caught fire. KABOOM! It exploded too.

There was still plenty of ammunition. I turned the muzzle and fired indiscriminately. At the street. The alley. The windows. I shot anything larger than a cart wheel. Not that there was anything smaller anyway.

Familiar scenes began to appear one by one. The Lamber I had seen. The ruined streets. It felt like I had finally returned home. A gas station. A gas station?

So that’s why I’d been a bit lost. In my memory, the Lamber gas station was just remnants after an explosion, but here it was, intact and whole. With the landmark being different, my sense of direction had been thrown off.

I aimed and fired immediately. The fuel storage tanks burst like ceramic pots. The impact was incomparable to the two cars exploding.

It shook the ground, broke pillars, and as if that wasn’t enough, a firestorm spread like wildfire. Heat that felt like it could cook flesh. The burnt smell that seemed to stick to my nose just from inhaling it.

Black smoke, terribly bad for the environment, layered over Lamber’s sky. Since rain would be troublesome, I put on a poncho.

“Yes. Now it resembles the Lamber I remember.”

The Osberg shotgun was almost out of ammo. I tapped it a couple of times as if to say “good job” and picked up an M4 carbine rifle from the ground. Its condition was so-so, but still usable.

Chamber check. Ammo check. Weapon malfunction check. Reload. 5.56mm rifle rounds with a holographic sight. Blood-soaked body armor. A redneck mask covering my face and a poncho. A perfect Lamber gang member.

I ran through the alley. Turned the corner. The apple warehouse came into view. I fired into the air and backed up, hiding beside the alley. I frantically gestured to the apple warehouse sentries who were looking at me with bewildered eyes.

“Cover me! Give me some cover!”

The sentries hid behind their posts and motioned for me to come. I ran, gripping the rifle, and shouted to the sentries:

“The fire, we need to put out the fire! The gas station exploded! Haven’t you received any instructions? Are there more people inside? We need to get buckets and put out the fire!”

“Easy there, buddy! Calm down! Have some water! There’s nothing but chained slaves inside. One of them, no, she isn’t here though.”

“Then at least try to get some instructions!”

With a disgruntled expression, the sentry sent a radio message. A brief reply came back telling us to wait.

As soon as I heard “communication over,” I shot him. The other guy who was standing there dumbfounded got the same treatment.

They must have confirmed the slave warehouse was secure, so there wouldn’t be any radio calls for a while.

Everyone seemed distracted by the explosions. I stuffed the guys into their respective posts and opened the warehouse door.

Creeeeak…

The apple warehouse had a two-story structure. The first floor had apple transport trailers, cranes, and cold storage for apples, while the second floor contained equipment rooms.

But there were no trailers. Instead, there was a bullet-riddled ambulance, a van that could fit about 12 people, and vehicles marked for emergency medical transport. The heavily scratched Disease Crisis Management Bureau emblem was peculiar.

The cold storage door had a sturdy bolt on it. There was no padlock. I lifted the bolt and opened the door.

“Ugh.”

A foul smell stung my nose. Not wanting to go inside, I banged on the warehouse wall.

“Come out!”

People with their hands cuffed behind their backs stumbled out.

Their eyes were completely unfocused, and many had scraped knees, perhaps from weakness in their legs. Every single one was covered in bruises, limping, and bloodied.

“Is there anyone else inside?” I asked, pointing my gun at the man in front.

The man shook his head. His face was full of contempt.

“…I thought you were trying to starve us to death.”

“Wait. That’s not it.”

Wanting to show I meant no harm, I pulled back my arm. The man’s face turned pale, then flushed red. Suddenly trembling like a poodle, he shook all over.

“…You. That jacket…!”

Ah. Right.

I’m currently disguised as a Lamber gang member. Under the poncho, I’m wearing a Disease Crisis Management Bureau jacket. And the Disease Crisis Management Bureau is the original organization these “slaves” belong to.

“Ah. You mean this. Well, I got it from some woman…”

“You, you bastard! Isn’t it enough to humiliate people!”

CRACK.

I hit the man’s head with the rifle butt. It was reflexive. Definitely not intentional. But how could I just let someone who was trying to bite my nose off?

“No. But what did I do wrong?”

Thinking about it, I couldn’t help but complain. The man who got hit with the rifle butt looked up at me. The other slaves, no, prospective slaves since they hadn’t been sold yet, had similar expressions. Like they were looking at something inhuman.

“Y-you evil bastard!”

Now I understand why these people have no uninjured parts. They claimed to be starving, but they’re overflowing with energy. Maybe it’s as that busty woman said—they’re well-fed and well-rested.

THUD, CRACK!

“Agh! Aaagh! Huaaagh!”

“Just stay still! Please! I really didn’t want to do this! I’m doing this because I have no choice!”

Since I couldn’t kill them, I kicked their knees and shins and slapped their faces. I could understand why these people had broken knees and swollen faces. I felt a lot of empathy for the gang members’ hard work.

“War criminals like you always say that! Just like you!”

Since persuasion wasn’t working, I had no choice but to use violence.

“What? What are you talking about!”

The door slid open. Three Lamber gang members rushed in. I could feel the heat rushing in, suggesting the fire had spread further. I hurriedly pointed at the prospective slaves.

“These guys were trying to escape! I don’t know how they opened the door, but!”

The guy who got hit first looked at me as if I were barely human.

“Hey, come on, you shouldn’t do that. It lowers their value!”

Surprisingly, the gang members helped the slaves to their feet. The prospective slaves looked at me with hateful eyes rather than at the gang that had imprisoned them.

“Aaaagh!”

One woman collapsed. Her shoulder was severely dislocated and dangling. It was enough to make anyone who saw it go “ugh.”

“…Looks like one’s already damaged. Shouldn’t we fix that? It won’t sell otherwise.”

I said this sincerely, but only got cursed at by the slave.

“Are you even human?!”

I slapped the face of the man who was wailing. The gang members held me back.

“Hey, hey, calm down. Calm. You shouldn’t get excited in this situation. Understand?”

“Huff. I got it. Sorry. Sorry. It’s fine.”

“Good. Good. Put the gun down.”

“I’m really fine. Really.”

I lowered the M4 and showed my palms. The pistol in my pocket was dangling as if about to fall out, so the gang friend carefully fixed my collar.

“But where’s the handcuff key? Anyway, I think we need to unlock those.”

“The key ring? Should be in the safe on the second floor.”

The apple warehouse second floor safe. What was the password again? I can’t remember the numbers, but I recall the sensation of pressing the keypad. So I moved my fingers like this…

“What are you doing?”

“Recalling a memory. Touching the keyboard to output the memory. Oh, is the password 62646668?”

“…That’s impressive. How did you remember it right away?”

It’s a joy to find something that hasn’t changed.

“I know, right?”

BANG! The pistol spat fire. With a thud, the friendly gang member collapsed. Before the others could turn around with a “What the—”, BANG BANG. BANG. A quick draw is always right.

“Kyaaaah!”

I understand. When a bullet grazes your hair and lodges in the wall, with blood splattering everywhere, you might let out such a dramatic scream. But I can’t tolerate commotion.

“Sit straight with your butt against the wall. You there. Stand up.”

A woman who looked relatively unharmed stood up, pressing her back against the wall. I grabbed her by the collar and pointed my gun at her.

“If anyone tries anything, this woman’s head comes off. Got it?”

Those who had fallen hurriedly nodded. I dragged the woman to the second floor. I sat her roughly on a chair and spun the safe dial.

Click.

“Ah, damn.”

Nothing but key rings. Usually, there are quite valuable items collected here, but it seems they were removed to make room for the key rings. What a waste.

“Which one of the three is it?”

“…What?”

“There are three key rings. Which one is it?”

“I-I don’t know. A-and we’re not the only ones here.”

“Huh? What? Stop stuttering and speak clearly.”

I told her not to stutter, not to bite her tongue hard. The woman with clear eyes but increasingly slurred speech let out something like a shout.

“There are more in another warehouse!”

“There are more in another warehouse?”

“Yes!”

“You went to medical school, right?”

“Yes!”

“Then you’re smart enough to find the keys and unlock the handcuffs.”

I picked up all three key rings. The woman stood up before I could grab her collar.

“Y-you’re letting us go?”

“Don’t laugh at me. I’m not that stupid.”

“Y-you’re letting us go?”

“What a stupid person. Figure it out yourself. I’m not unlocking them for you. What are you saying? Do I look that free? Next you’ll be asking me to show you the way out of the village? Someone must know how to drive. I’m busy.”

“Y-you, you’re so, so treacherous…”

Calling me treacherous three times. This woman has a talent for making people feel bad.

“Shut up. Walk.”

“E-excuse me! Actually…”

“God, you’re really annoying.”

I went behind the woman and lightly wrapped my arm around her neck. Without breaking it, I just pressed enough to make her faint. I carried the now-quiet woman like a princess and walked down the stairs, jingling the key rings.

“…Aagh! Jenia! Uwaagh! No, no!”

I gently put the woman down and threw all three key rings to them. They were making a fuss behind me, but I ignored it and flung open another cold storage door.

“Uwaaagh! Don’t shoot!”

Feeling insulted, I just opened the door for them. I’m in a really bad mood. I had expectations when they said “slave warehouse,” but there’s nothing inside. Were they afraid the slaves might rearm themselves?

More than thirty people poured out of the cold storage. They all looked haggard from lack of food, but seeing the key rings brought life back to their bodies like the whistle at the end of a shift.

“I’ll open it!”

“Unlock me first!”

“Don’t you know patients get priority?”

People with their arms tied behind their backs were fighting over the key rings. Those who have forgotten the human duty to help each other need education.

BANG!

I fired the pistol into the air. To focus their attention, I activated the radio.

“Situation developing. Situation developing! Slaves escaping en masse. Situation developing! Mass slave escape! I repeat, mass slave escape!”

“Hey, you crazy bastard!”

– Slaves? The slaves escaped? Why?

– Hey, you idiots! What did you do to make the slaves escape! Catch them! Catch them!

– Changing frequency.

A rather heavy voice. Even I felt somewhat calmed by it.

– Switching to patrol frequency. Repeat. Switching to patrol frequency. The radio seems to have been seized. There are disruption forces. Over.

Static.

Ah. These guys. They’ve been disrupted so many times that now they see even a slave escape as part of a deception. But even the boy who cried wolf was right once.

“What now? They’re coming to catch you. Either unlock those keys quickly, run with your legs while still bound, or get in a car and escape. One of those three. Right?”

The people who might or might not become prospective slaves stared at me blankly.

“Who exactly are you?”

The first person who got hit with the rifle butt mumbled.

“Isn’t saving your life more important than asking who I am? Just get out of here.”

The more chaos you cause out there, the more I can scavenge.

“H-hey! W-we have one more comrade… who’s locked up! She was taken… please.”

“Ah!”

I shouted loudly without meaning to.

Right. The safe room. The situation was so complicated that I forgot, but in this state, it might be good to raid it.

Above all, there are many high-value exchange items there. Things like confidential information documents.

“I should sell those!”

“Hey!”

I didn’t hear what they were saying as they exited the warehouse. I hid in a corner to avoid the approaching gang members and used up the last of my pistol ammunition.

I discard the pistol too. Now all I can rely on is the carbine and the .22 caliber rifle. But I’ve also got a good bulletproof helmet, and the 5.56mm has excellent penetration, so it’s not too bad.

The safe room. It’s in the bank building behind the town hall.

By now, the number of gang members should have decreased significantly, and with these escaped slaves running in all directions to avoid recapture, the commotion will only grow.

In this situation, it should be manageable.