Ch.49Chapter 7. Ice Burns Just as Much as Fire (1)

# Chapter 7. Ice Is Also Great and Would Suffice

**Fire and Ice / Robert Frost**

Some say the world will end in fire,

Some say in ice.

From what I’ve tasted of desire

I hold with those who favor fire.

But if it had to perish twice,

I think I know enough of hate

To say that for destruction ice

Is also great

And would suffice.

* * * * *

Hampton City, District 4. Leticia’s apartment.

“Mmm, mmm…”

Intelligence Officer Leticia woke from a nightmare. She had dreamed of being naked, rubbed between two giant slugs.

“Ha.”

She understood why she’d had such a dream. The bed was damp, and the blanket clung stickily to her body.

“Phew…”

She pushed away the blanket that felt like frog legs and sat on the edge of the bed. She clutched her throbbing head and looked down at the floor.

It was a mess. Combat boots. Dog tags. Uniform. Pretty underwear she’d saved up to buy. Beer cans. Liquor bottles. Snack wrappers. Water bottles scattered everywhere.

At least the silver necklace wasn’t there. It was the only thing Leticia was currently wearing.

The time was 8 AM. Normally she’d be frantically preparing for work, but today was her day off. Tomorrow she had weekend duty.

‘While on duty, I’ll catch up on pending work…’

The thought of pending work made not just her head but her lower abdomen tighten. The contents of “that report”—15 pages of A4—came to mind again. Her skin crawled and a tingling sensation ran down her spine.

“Alcohol. Alcohol…”

Damp biscuits and some whiskey. A fine breakfast. She tried to lift the bottle whole but thought better of it since it was morning, tore open a milk carton from the refrigerator and gulped it down.

“Bleh.”

The milk spilled out in a gush. It wet her mouth and chin, flowed down to her chest, and then drip, drip, fell to the floor. Annoyed by the fishy smell, she roughly smashed it with her slipper. She put the milk back, drank the whiskey, and cleansed her palate with a biscuit.

Bad thoughts bye-bye. Work stress goodbye goodbye.

“Hee. Hee.”

A pleasant feeling of weakness. She squeezed out every last drop.

“No more… alcohol.”

She rummaged through the refrigerator and finally pulled out a can of beer. Click, and gulp, gulp, she drank it down. She swallowed the beer as if it were mother’s milk, letting it flow properly.

“Delicious breakfast. Hehe. One more drink.”

There was no more alcohol in the refrigerator. Only canned food. Items more valuable as black market currency than for their original purpose as food, but with these, she could relatively easily buy beer. However, whiskey had to be obtained with food exchange vouchers.

Leticia, with drooping eyes, held the whiskey bottle in front of her face and shook it. She gave it a long, lingering kiss. She stuck out her tongue and licked around the bottle as if caressing it.

“…What joy would I have in life without you?”

No. This won’t do. She wanted to get drunk. More and more, she wanted to get drunk. Work. Work. She needed to get that terrible report out of her head quickly.

This wouldn’t do. It would be better to sleep. Leticia returned to bed with the empty whiskey bottle. Without covering herself with the blanket, she lay down as she was.

“Haaah…”

A cool breeze washed over every corner of her body. The chilly feeling was pleasant. – He…me…

“Ah. Please… stop.”

In the end, she covered her face with her palms.

Sleeping naked was a habit she’d had for quite some time. It started from the day she was promoted to mid-level officer and moved from the women’s military dormitory to her own apartment.

The reward for her loyalty, enduring being called a ‘Römer lackey.’ Without receiving congratulations from anyone, she drank hard liquor happily, telling herself it was a gift she gave herself.

My home.

The sense of relief and accomplishment it gave her. Overwhelmed with emotion, she continued to drink. Unable to cool the heat, she threw off her clothes layer by layer, and finally fell asleep naked.

When she woke up the next day, she was flustered, muttering that she was crazy, but the pleasure that had taken root was impossible to uproot. Her own secret ritual. The relief when a pot simmering on low heat suddenly boils over.

Of course, Leticia was an elite officer, known for her excellent self-control. She never showed this side of herself when with others.

Instead, she returned home to soothe her doubled desires. She drank something stronger than what she had at company dinners and fell asleep with a greater sense of liberation and weakness.

But even that soon became tedious. There was nothing new. She wondered if she would continue living like a hamster on a wheel.

Her already large breasts gained more weight, and fat subtly accumulated on her sides and stomach. Her thickened thighs went without saying.

But that interrogation a few days ago. That woman with empty eyes had undone what Leticia had been trying to fill with alcohol.

Cassandra Wilson. Senior researcher at the Disease Control Bureau. Her testimony had consistency. Consistency in testimony must consider not only whether the context makes sense but also the degree of description.

A statement is ultimately telling others about one’s actions. People naturally become defensive. If a defensive person describes certain parts in detail, there must be some intention behind it.

But Cassandra’s statements were consistent even in their descriptions. Each one was detailed, delicate, and sensual.

It was obvious at a glance that she wasn’t in her right mind, and so Leticia had overlooked her calling V, whom she claimed to have just met, “him,” but there was desire in her testimony.

A desire for belief. A desperation to be understood.

‘You Römer lackey. You vicious woman who preys on your own kind. You devil woman who sells people for a living.’

The sound echoed in her ears.

“…What did I do wrong?”

Leticia covered her face with her hands.

Ring ring ring.

“Hello.”

– Victory. This is the intelligence officer. How are you feeling?

“…I’m much better, thanks to you.”

Why is this bastard calling on a holiday? Leticia wanted to curse.

“Why? Is something wrong?”

– I’m sorry to disturb your rest. It’s just that… there’s something you should know, so I called.

“Alright. What is it?”

Pressing her brow firmly, she tries to answer without sounding curt. The intelligence officer laid out various explanations. It was easy to understand but difficult to accept.

“So, people who were held as slaves have been admitted to the medical company, and Disease Control Bureau personnel are in charge of treatment. And severed tendons have reattached? Explain that part again. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. What do the Disease Control Bureau people say?

– They repeat like parrots that tendons severed long ago cannot reattach on their own. The cut marks are clearly visible even to our eyes. But clearly, though slowly, they are gradually reattaching.

“What did the commander say?”

– He said he would speak directly with the director of the Disease Control Bureau. It will likely be classified as confidential. The commander is personally hearing related testimonies.

The intelligence officer’s consideration was appreciated. It would have been quite confusing to be on duty without knowing this information. But a call while she was feeling so unwell…

– And it was V who revealed the location of these slaves.

“What?”

– You know the number we used to contact V? The number left when purchasing the bag. The contact came from that number.

…It is a matter worth contacting about.

“…That’s behavior befitting the moderate faction of the Elsa Intelligence Bureau. Operating in the shadows, defeating gangs, and rescuing slaves.”

– Makes me want to see his face.

“Indeed. Alright. Anything else?”

– No. Take care of yourself.

“Yes.”

The phone rang again as soon as she put it down.

“Haah…”

Leticia picked up the phone again.

– Hey, Leticia? Looks like you’re off today.

“Brother?”

It was her older brother, Hameln. He now works as a government official in Römer. If she had cursed, it would have been a real problem.

– Why does your voice sound like that? Are you sick?

“Huh? Uh… just a cold.”

– Health comes first.

“I know, I know… How are sis and the kids?”

– They’re all doing well. I hear Elsa is quite unsettled. Are you okay?

Leticia looks around her shabby apartment. Piles of clothes. Sexy, pretty underwear with no one to show it to. Gleaming dog tags. Combat boots standing at attention.

“I’m fine, brother. Everything’s fine.”

Leticia answered while pressing her forehead. The amplitude of her headache increased.

– I heard you called last time saying you had something to ask. I was too busy to answer. What can I look into for you?

“Uh, um. It’s nothing important, just… personal. Is this exchange… secure?”

All calls from Elsa to outside the country are subject to censorship. Of course, this doesn’t apply to people with “security clearance.”

– Of course not. What is it?

“Uh, well, we have a new superior… Virginia Helford…”

Her brother seemed quite surprised by Leticia’s words.

– Virginia Helford? The White Viper of the Helford family? That woman is your superior?

“Yes. That’s right. Could you maybe… find out about her reputation? Even gossip would help… I have no information at all, and I need to know something to serve her properly…”

– I know plenty. I can think of more than five things right now. The Helford family has held the position of Senate President in the Römer Parliament for generations. There are so many rumors that it’s harder to tell what’s true. There’s no end to the gossip. Alright. I’ll look into it.

“Thanks, brother.”

– Hey, but this is really great news! You’ve been suffering under those old fossils for so long. If someone from the Helford family went there, it’s probably to gain experience because she lacks military promotion points. Since no soldier wants to go from Römer to the Elsa colony, they give promotion points to those who do.

Colony. It’s not wrong. Leticia held back a bitter smile.

“That seems likely.”

– Hold onto that woman tight. If you can’t grab her by the hair, at least cling to her stockings. Who knows? Since you work well and are sharp, she might take you as her personal aide. Many people have come from Elsa to Römer that way. You can’t stay there forever. Not someone like you.

“I understand.”

– My new wife also really wants to see you. The nieces and nephews too. If you’re seeing someone…

“Brother. Thank you.”

– Leticia. You know I care about you, right? It’s just us siblings left now.

“Yes.”

The call ended. It was a while before Leticia put down the phone. Hearing her family’s voice made her think more of that woman’s eyes. Those suffocatingly empty green eyes. The testimony uttered in a blunt, mechanical voice devoid of emotion.

Weeeooo!

A siren sounded. Irritation surged. Weeeooo! Weeeooo! Weeeooo!

<Zombie outbreak in District 7! Zombie outbreak in District 7! All areas are being sealed off. Repeat! All areas are being sealed off immediately!>

“I got it.”

Weeeooo! Weeeooo! Weeeooo!

<All citizens, please evacuate to the nearest building! All vehicles except ambulances, police cars, and military vehicles must stop! This remains in effect until further notice. I repeat…!>

“I said I got it!”

Leticia collapsed on the floor. Crawling on all fours back to bed to escape the unbearable headache. The damp, cool blanket swallowed her as if beckoning her to come.

– Evacuate until the Römer lackey is beaten to death!

It’s an auditory hallucination. This is clearly an auditory hallucination. Leticia’s eyes spun. The delayed effects of alcohol surge up. Her lower abdomen feels heavily pulled. She keeps laughing. Saliva drips stickily from the corners of her mouth.

She just wanted to live well. She wanted to live like others. Like her brother who had formed a family, she too wanted that.

Meet a wonderful man, have beautiful children, show off sexy underwear, have marital fights while being disgusted.

Just one such ordinary life was all she wanted.

A life of trust and mutual dependence. What that empty woman, that hollowed-out woman who called herself Cassandra, casually threw away—that’s what Leticia wanted too.

She wanted it, but.

<Additional zombie outbreak in District 8! Additional zombie outbreak in District 8! Lock your shutters tightly and do not open windows! Lock your shutters tightly!>

Now she’s just annoyed that she probably can’t go to the black market today.

“Sob… hak… heuup…!”

The effects of alcohol drunk on an empty stomach bloom. Her body heats up again. Desire that had been suppressed for too long surged. A craving that would never be fulfilled.

In the end, today too, she seeks sleep, comforting herself with the liquor bottle.

Hoping that when she opens her eyes and gets up, the stars will be out. Hoping she can go to the black market with food ration cards and cans. Hoping she can find more alcohol.

The goddess of hunger engraved on her silver necklace sparkled in the morning sunlight.

But that’s only for a moment. Dark clouds are gathering. It looks like a heavy rain is coming.

* * * * *

“What’s with this sudden rain?”

Camilla complained. I turned off the truck’s radio.

Rumble! A downpour began, and thick raindrops fell onto the truck with a thud, thud.

Suddenly Camilla opened her bag. She took out a plastic bag containing toiletries.

“What are you doing?”

“Going to wash up.”

“Suddenly? Now?”

“I feel gross. Aren’t you going to wash?”

No. We’re in the middle of the road?

“Hey, hey! Are you seriously going to strip down in the middle of the road?”

She stared at me for a moment, then slightly stuck out her tongue. She draped a towel around her neck and quickly stuck her head out the window.

“Per. vert.”

I’d been had. She was just going to wash her hair and face.

I also opened the window and stuck my head out.