Lakefront Night (14), Santa Margarita Lake

The mission objective was accomplished. There were no more enemies left to lure. The squad crossed the river once again. It was the third time after sunset. Everyone moved quickly and confidently, accustomed to the process.

Corpses were scattered along the riverbank in the black dawn. Here and there. Not many in number. Gyeo-ul gave the squad members a brief respite. It was time to recover US military casualties. Recovery didn’t mean transport.

“Detach the dog tags and secure the helmet camera memory. If you find any notebooks, check the contents. There might be critical evidence left over. Be careful not to get anything wet.”

Even as he gave the order, Gyeo-ul didn’t have much hope. The battery life of milspec helmet cameras was generally around four hours or less. In Gyeo-ul’s case, he carried more spare batteries than others—thanks to the public affairs office’s greed. They wanted everything the boy officer saw and heard on site.

There was no reason Harris’ subordinates would be like Gyeo-ul. Their batteries likely died a long time ago. The equipment was meant to be turned on and off as needed, after all. There was no reason to leave evidence behind. A notebook was even less likely. If Captain Harris had been sane, he would have strictly enforced this rule.

‘Still, it’s not impossible. Maybe at least one person had a pang of conscience…’

It needed to be done, regardless. Not only had there been civilian massacres, but extermination battles among American soldiers, too. The US government would react extremely sensitively to this incident. The more evidence, the better.

This wasn’t only Gyeo-ul’s wishful thinking. Squad leader Joel Hernandez spoke up.

“Hopefully we find something convincing, whatever it is.”

“It’d be nice, but it’s not essential. Even just the evidence and witnesses we have might be enough.”

Tap tap. Gyeo-ul tapped his own camera. It was meant to reassure them, but it wasn’t just talk. The events recorded so far were already sufficient evidence, with the comms with the captain included. There would be civilian testimony, too. Bribery? Coercion? Ridiculous. Covering it up by reporting restrictions is the realistic move. Patriotic reporting. Highly plausible.

“It’s because it’s you, first Lieutenant. That’s our misfortune’s blessing. If someone else had been in command, we’d be terribly worried about what happens after returning.”

Those involved in a cover-up always get the same treatment: changes of post and transfers for no reason, followed by dangerous assignments. Under martial law, such administrative measures were possible and even necessary. In an existential crisis for humanity, civilian distrust of the military could lead to catastrophe.

His thoughts drifted away. Gyeo-ul shook his head slightly, coming back to reality. He addressed the corporal.

“Try to think more positively. Maybe the fact that this happened will mean it’ll be made public as is. Doesn’t it hurt credibility if the news only reports positive things?”

“What I meant is, the likelihood is higher because you’re here, first Lieutenant.”

Gyeo-ul gave a gentle smile.

“It’s kind of funny to say this after telling you to think positively―but this is just out of curiosity, so don’t take it the wrong way.”

“What is it?”

“Aren’t you worried they’ll bury you along with me?”

The corporal gave a short laugh.

“That’s absurd.”

“Why?”

“Are you really asking because you don’t know, or are you just being incredibly modest?”

“It’s okay. I get it without needing to hear it.”

Gyeo-ul swiftly raised his weapon. Rat-tat-tat! A three-round burst in controlled fire. All shots struck home. A mutant that had suddenly leaped up to attack a soldier staggered and fell. The soldier, having survived, recoiled a beat late with a shout. “Aaaaagh!”

He fell back, withdrawing in a sudden fit. Rata! Rata! Ratatatata! And then he emptied an entire magazine in automatic fire at the already dead corpse. Shell casings rained down. The other soldiers jumped in alarm.

“What the hell! What happened!”

“Shit! This bastard was playing dead! fuck! fuck! fuck!”

Gyeo-ul approached and calmed him.

“Quiet. Why did you let your guard down? You saw these things were clever with your own eyes.”

“S-sorry. Was it you who fired first, first Lieutenant?”

“Yes. It was me.”

“Thank you so much. I must have really let my guard down, thinking it was all over.”

The private was trembling. He seemed badly shaken. Guilherme made a sharp remark.

“Over? What’s over? Nothing’s over until you get back to the barracks and get a dismissal order. Forget that, and you’re likely to go back a corpse. You’re lucky you have this CO.”

“That’s enough, Guilherme.”

Gyeo-ul patted the soldier’s back until he calmed down.

The evidence collection soon finished. Whether they had gotten anything useful would only be known after returning. Gyeo-ul ordered the soldiers to throw the dead’s weapons into the river. Hernandez asked,

“What now? Are we linking up with the platoon leader?”

“Link up? I’m not sure…”

Gyeo-ul lingered in the shade of the forest. The unknown special mutant witnessed during the skirmish nagged at him. The reward for first discovery was one thing, but more than that, he wanted to drive a positive change in the world.

But was it wise to search further at this hour, with these numbers?

Seeing the young officer hesitate, the squad leader asked again,

“Is there something bothering you?”

“I thought I saw something earlier.”

“What do you mean?”

“I want to check it out. It was fairly large…”

After weighing the danger a bit more, he gave the order.

“Report how much ammo you each have left.”

The result was dicey. Some had extra, some were low—but more were in the latter group. Ammo was redistributed so no one was in immediate danger. Each ended up with about two spare magazines—enough to get through a firefight and withdraw.

But morale was a problem. At the prospect of more action, fatigue showed on several faces. Even those who hid it likely felt the same. They must have been picturing returning home.

No wonder. Since leaving base, it had been unending hardship. Gyeo-ul encouraged them.

“I know everyone’s exhausted. I’d like to let you rest, but it’s difficult. I hope you understand. If what I saw was an unknown special mutant, gathering info now will be better for later.”

Hernandez replied,

“First Lieutenant. No need to say it that way. Just give orders like an officer should. Kicking these guys into shape is my job as squad leader.”

Guilherme gave him a look of mockery. Gyeo-ul offered a faint smile.

“Alright. That’s an order. Follow me.”

As usual, Gyeo-ul took point in the search. Someone suggested assigning a separate point man, but he refused. It was an issue tied directly to the group’s collective survivability. And, he needed Tracking.

Shattered trees began to appear. Footprints in between them were large and deep. The soldiers held their breath. So far, every appearance of a new special mutant had caused heavy casualties. This time could be no different. It was natural to be tense.

“If it’s this big, isn’t it a Grumble?”

A soldier guessed. Gyeo-ul shook his head.

“The footprints are different. And if it was a Grumble, wouldn’t it have joined the previous fight? It charges even over other mutants of the same kind.”

Gyeo-ul surveyed his surroundings. Broken branches, stripped trees. Trunks deeply gouged. But these signs didn’t seem to be just from passing through. Gyeo-ul tilted his head.

‘Why? Would a mutant deliberately break trees?’

It must relate to the mutant’s traits, but what those traits were, he couldn’t guess.

Tracking continued. Tension mounted among the soldiers—scattered steps testified to psychological strain, exhaustion, and fatigue. Even stimulants had their limits.

The monster appeared without warning.

There was no anticipation of its appearance, no alert from sensory enhancement. The previously hidden heat source emerged as if out of thin air. Its silhouette was clear—definitely not a Grumble.

Setting aside his astonishment, Gyeo-ul instantly raised his hand. The squad fanned out and completed cover and concealment.

“Two o’clock, range about forty. One enemy.”

The privates’ night-vision goggles couldn’t detect heat. Only after Gyeo-ul gave the direction and range did the soldiers spot the target. Hernandez whispered,

“Do we attack?”

“Grenades first. Hold fire until I give the order. Krauss, mcKenzie, get ready.”

This wasn’t just for firepower—it was tactical. They knew nothing about the monster’s abilities. Shooting would reveal their position. Same with grenade launchers. Grenades had no launch sound and little flash—perfect for this case, and it would be hard for the enemy to pinpoint where they’d come from.

Noise might attract more mutants, but there was just one here for now. The immediate priority was caution against the mysterious enemy in front of them.

The two soldiers took positions behind shrubs, each with a grenade, awaiting Gyeo-ul’s nod. At his signal, they counted to three and threw.

Thwack! One went slightly off and hit a fig branch. As the monster turned, the second grenade landed properly and detonated at close range. The second explosion followed almost immediately. The forest shuddered at the blasts, and the flash left an afterimage.

Kyaaaaaaaa—

The ground shook—the impact of a massive monster running. It was slower than expected. It crashed into a fig tree with its whole body. Thud! Its mass vibrated through the thick trunk, but that was all. For such power, it still seemed a far cry from true special mutant strength.

Didn’t Grumble uproot and throw trees?

‘Did the sound of the grenade make it think we were over there?’

So much the better. The monster now seemed a riled and uneasy beast, wary of every invisible direction. It moved clumsily.

“Give me the launcher.”

Gyeo-ul received the rocket launcher from a soldier. It was heavier than a rifle. Unlike the light LAWs they usually carried, the one Jeffrey had left had a warhead that weighed kilograms—a propellant load easily more than ten times that of a grenade.

Not enough for Grumble’s physical resistances, but it should work against this one.

“Stay here and wait.”

He didn’t fire immediately. The blast from the launcher would reveal his position.

It was dark, but one could never be too careful.

He lowered his posture and sprinted laterally twenty meters, then slid three and made ready.

The monster was still there, jerking its head, as if trying to cover all directions at once.

‘Excited? Angry?… It seems more afraid than anything else.’

There was no warning from Survival Sense, only a weak one from Combat Sense. What in the world was it?

He pondered, but pulled the safety pin from the warhead. Ting—a clear, tiny metallic sound heard only by Gyeo-ul. He pushed up his NODs for aiming. Raising the launcher to his shoulder, he lined up the sights on the monster and fired.

Boom! His whole body shook. The high-explosive round arced like rain, the trajectory visible in the downpour. Gyeo-ul felt launch and impact almost simultaneously. He could see the shockwave with his eyes. The rain scattered, surged skyward, then came down in dense streams.

The explosion passed.

But the monster showed no reaction.

What? Gyeo-ul lay flat for a moment, watching.

No movement at all. Just a thick fog of steam, distinctly different from the mist—far more than usual. Apparently, it was coming from creature’s secretions.

No more Survival Sense alerts.

He waited, counting to ten silently, and then slowly stood up.

Rejoining the squad, they cautiously approached, stopping at a safe distance to observe.

“Is it…dead? That easy?”

Guilherme muttered doubtfully.

The special mutant was dead, splayed toward the sky. Its posture was unusual due to its bodily imbalance—its enormous swollen back pulled its entire weight to one side. The protruding spine was striking.

Its back was covered in countless boils. What he’d earlier thought was fluid proved to be thick yellow pus, oozing from here.

He wasn’t positive it was pus, but outwardly it looked similar. Even now in death, it continued to flow. Most wounds—shredded from the blast—oozed pus rather than blood. It welled up, gushed out—a huge amount. This vapor rising from it stank. When the wind shifted, the stench wafted over. Gyeo-ul shouted,

“Gas masks on!”

Survival Sense and Danger Detection were quiet. That meant, at least, this wasn’t a toxic substance.

Nonetheless, the order fit.

Gyeo-ul fired several rounds into the corpse. Which part would be effective? Puk! Puk! Each hit sprayed pus—yellow and viscous. It coated the surrounding ground. Blood, when present, was watery and mixed with pus.

Hernandez muttered in disgust,

“What is this, a mass of tumors?”

The soldiers edged away. Gyeo-ul didn’t stop them. In fact, he urged them further back. The report would go up anyway; there was no reason to attract unnecessary suspicion from above.

‘If infection or poisoning becomes a concern, they’ll likely quarantine us for a long time.’

It would all be resolved eventually, but the wasted time until then was the problem.

“First Lieutenant, do you think these things might have biochemical weapons? That would explain their poor combat ability,”

Guilherme asked.

Gyeo-ul shook his head.

“If you’re asking for my gut feeling…no. But I have no grounds to be sure yet. Let’s just record its position and move out. All we need is to report it. The Health Services unit will come and recover it later.”

He took out his GPS and map, marking the spot and jotting down the coordinates.

“Good work, everyone. Let’s head back. Jeffrey will be waiting.”

Once the order was given, everyone withdrew quickly. Soon they were nearly running.

Putrid mucus spread wide, starting to flow downhill.

—————————= Author’s Afterword —————————=

#Quiz

What do you think that mutant is?

#3:20 AM

Author: I was extremely tired, but for some reason my mind is getting clearer.

Friend: Have you heard of the flashburn before death?

Author: It’s not that…

Friend: LOL

#Q&A

Q. BlueCrystal: @Author I really want to see your comments. Reading your commentary after an update was a way to savor the story, but I feel a little empty without it.

A. Since you asked, I’ll continue. But since some people don’t like it, I’ll have to pace myself. 🙂

Q. Sofetem: So, where’s the signing event? If it’s not in the outer universe, I’ll attend.

A. Well, probably not possible? I think if this novel was published as a book, even the first print wouldn’t sell out and it’d end up in clearance. A signing event would be too much for that.

Ah, to be clear—that’s not because my novel is boring, but because paper books just don’t sell these days. I hope more people will at least read it as an e-book.

Q. Anarkh: @I cut back on sleep for a few days to read this… I swore never to subscribe to Noble again but I signed up for a month because of this story. Thanks for staying on Noble for the longtime fans. I’ll disappear after throwing a coupon to support you.

A. Glad to hear it was worth losing sleep over. Thank you. I’ll do my best so that readers can continue to develop irregular sleeping habits.

I really am a good person. As good as the number of legs…

Q. Raynesis: Munpia is no good… Just stick with premium here… By the way, are you planning to serialize on a website starting with na…?

A. The order and timing may differ, but I’ll eventually reach all major platforms, including Kakao. But since I’m going on Naver first, it’ll be hard to advertise on Kakao, right? Plus, as a Noble serial the perspectives aren’t great…

On Naver, by the way, it’ll go to NStore, not as a web novel.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep