Marauder of the Apocalypse-Chapter 45: Military

The battle to reclaim the mart ended in military victory. A victory full of wounds.

Soldiers who threw off their gas masks after combat wore crazed expressions, sitting scattered two meters apart, clutching their heads, smoking with trembling hands, or blankly staring into space while hugging their guns.

Some sobbed while holding dead comrades' bodies.

The platoon and company commanders weren't much better. Though barely holding it together to handle cleanup, their faces were dark, and one platoon leader was retching.

I quietly recalled the battlefield I'd watched through the drone.

'Amazing firepower. But that's all.'

Rifles and supporting machine guns. They poured out enough bullets to clear swarms of zombies. Looking at casualty ratios, it was close to a massacre.

But many soldiers died too. Depleting hard-to-replace ammunition was also a problem.

The gains were meager. I turned my gaze toward the military.

"..."

The company commander stood motionless. His lowered head stared at the duffel bag.

They'd collected remaining mart resources, but there wasn't much. Zombies had eaten lots, and many items were contaminated with the virus after being hit by bullets during combat.

A victory where losses outweighed gains. Trading human resources of soldiers and material resources of ammunition - it was almost like being scammed.

The police captain smirked.

"They underestimated zombies. The attack made no sense from the start. Where will they resupply after losing soldiers and wasting ammo?"

True. To maximize military advantages against zombies, they should have focused on defense. Create battlefields where they could use all war tools - barbed wire, machine guns, artillery support, tanks.

Fight once like that and zombies wouldn't swarm again.

Going on the offensive inevitably meant terrible resource drain.

Or they could target people instead of zombies.

I licked my dry lips and lowered my voice.

"No matter how I look at it, the remaining forces can't clear the city's zombies."

"Right. Would need at least division-level forces, or be ready to turn the city to ruins. Impossible."

"Then how will these forces get food? Even one mart caused this much loss."

People fell silent at my question.

Tense glances watched the soldiers. If that firepower turned on people. If they became raiders. Just imagination, but a likely future. free𝑤ebnovel.com

Everyone already guarded against that.

"...But we can't touch them. Power gap's too serious."

"No, there are ways."

Direct confrontation was hard. Had to cowardly pass on losses over the long term.

I pointed at the food in the duffel bags. Obviously little even from far away. Rather, plenty of empty duffel bags and military packs remained. Their deflated appearance seemed to symbolize the military's extinguished dreams.

Also a sign the second wave wasn't far off.

"Not much left in marts. Zombies gathered in shopping areas will soon come to the streets."

"...Pass them to the military? Make them waste ammo?"

That was the simple context.

Add more detailed work to that. I laid out a simple scenario.

Warn about the second wave, advertise the military as the only hope. If they accept, they'll fight and waste resources. If they don't? Their image gets destroyed.

"And lately these messages have been coming."

I turned on my phone, showing messages I'd sent and received through other accounts.

Military recruitment notices. Exaggerated ads promising ample food and safe housing. Messages I'd made and spread, but I waved my phone like someone who knew nothing.

"Don't know who, but someone's trying to push survivors toward the military. Let's use this too."

"Heard those were fake. Could still use fake ones though."

"What messages? I didn't get any."

That's when someone stuck their head toward my phone. RiderZero.

She'd been covering her ears from gunfire noise, but seeing the message, made a strange "eek" sound.

"Isn't this that person I blocked?"

"...Who?"

"Someone who made ridiculous proposals about leading zombies to me before. Has that same purely malicious feel."

"..."

You still remember that? Really want zero life? And malicious? What good and evil in struggling to survive.

RiderZero stamped her feet and complained.

"Aren't people like this more dangerous than the military? Seems like someone who just can't stand things going well. Trying to send zombies to Hope Community, harassing the military. Just like those posting about attacking police."

That was me too. Annoying. Made me sound like the bad guy.

I struggled to control my expression while watching RiderZero. Not enough for small pranks?

'...When gas runs out motorcycles become trash too. We'll see then.'

Fortunately, no one paid attention to RiderZero's words. The police captain shook his head dismissively.

"World had crazy people even when normal. Had killers with no reason too. How much worse now with everything like this. Anyway, let's use indirect methods."

Having set direction, we slowly withdrew. Combat was over. Having confirmed the military's results, no reason to stay.

The ruined mart grew distant. I glanced back at it. A battlefield of only defeat. Dead zombies, dead people, no food - just ruins.

Even if everyone dies in the end, it's a world where we must fight just to avoid dying now.

The city's biggest shortage was food. Other machine parts and resources were plentiful. Tools like blankets, clothes, computers, printers, gas burners, pots, lighters - these lasted longer than food.

Enough to distribute advertising flyers.

Many groups scattered both warnings and advertisements.

Warnings about the coming zombie wave. Warnings about preparing for summer rains.

Ads about military clearing zombies to prevent this. Adding images of military easily cleaning marts, advertising that zombie clearing was nothing to them.

Some groups mixed in fake recruitment ads too.

'This takes time. Need to watch situation slowly.'

My doomsday theory spread quietly too. Though few believed it, many knew its contents.

That was important. Disbelief? A necessary step for prophecies and doomsday theories. Like disaster movie scientists persecuted for warning of disasters, stories revealed as truth after persecution seemed more plausible.

"This is farming too."

Farming seeds of information and writing in people's hearts. Wonder how they'll bloom.

And intangible farming proceeded in various forms.

Children. Those who should have been resocialized in schools, learning necessary knowledge as society members, instead received apocalypse education. Education to become excellent survivors.

I watched children receiving various education from adults.

"Don't think about fighting. You can't win just by charging in."

"Don't shoot water guns at people. If someone threatens you, aim at them. Target the face when shooting."

Education continued using my tied-up zombie as teaching material on the street.

Do-hyung watching beside me glanced over.

"You're not calling this human farming, right? No, feels like you are. Keep thoughts like that hidden. Nothing good comes from saying them."

"What human farming? They're already pulling their weight, nothing more to raise."

"...Really are crazy."

Do-hyung shook his head and turned back to his phone, softly tapping what seemed like messages with Na Yeji.

I had no interest in that. I quietly watched the children.

Schools and education systems had long collapsed. If today's adults were the first apocalypse generation, how would the second generation raised in the apocalypse or third generation born into this world live?

Knowledge disconnect, savagery becoming basic nature, possibly not even recognizing civilization's remnants. Life believing safety rules like boiling water or covering mouths like religion without knowing why.

I suddenly lamented like an elder marveling at technological progress.

'That could be interesting too. Maybe born too early.'

If this world was apocalypse, wouldn't their world be post-apocalypse?

Just then, the children's mother nervously approached the man. She carefully held up her phone and spoke.

"Um, would it be okay to invite a teacher?"

"Teacher? There's a surviving teacher?"

I turned too. Teacher? Could have survived. They did online lectures before the apocalypse got serious.

But why bother? Did we need such personnel?

"Yes... Said they'll educate children if we provide food and housing. I want the children to get proper studies."

"Wait. Give me that teacher's number."

The paranoid man seemed intent on investigating first. I frowned.

What use was studying in this world? Should make another planter instead of studying. Or learn dealing with zombies and people.

The teacher seemed questionable too. Demanding food and housing.

"They're children. Shouldn't just learn harsh things."

"Seems like a simple teacher. Let's interview and judge."

But regardless of my thoughts, people saw children as future hope and invited the teacher.

"Um... Goodbye!"

The teacher fled seeing the corpse crosses and hanging spy corpse. As people gave me indecipherable looks, I scratched my head awkwardly.

The scarecrows worked excellently.