9th Grade Civil Servant In Another World Chapter 211 - Fire (4)

“Aaaaah!!”

“Blood, there’s blood!”

“Those bastards shot at us!”

Amid the tearing screams and surging chaos, Christian stood frozen, his mind gone completely blank.

Perhaps they’d been too naive.

Maybe they’d underestimated the enemy’s brutality.

He’d naturally expected them to deploy mounted police, but he never thought they’d actually shoot at their own citizens.

There’d never been such a thing before.

That had been their last line of defense.

That’s why the people had been able to raise their voices at all.

“Senior!!”

Christian, who had been standing there dumbfounded, snapped to attention. A young female student was supporting a bleeding classmate who’d been grazed by a bullet, staring at him with a desperate expression.

He closed his eyes briefly and opened them again. Then he shouted with a trembling voice.

“Prepare barriers!”

The magic department students who had been in chaos at the rear came to their senses and began chanting spells again. Blue barriers formed, covering the protesters.

Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat!

But their limitations were clear.

Another volley of bullets caused cracks to appear throughout the barriers. People were screaming while holding their wounded family and friends.

This wasn’t the time to debate the people’s choice.

“Everyone! Run!”

As the protest leaders scattered in all directions, Christian shouted toward the rear.

Rat-a-tat-tat!

“Kyaaaah!”

The barriers shattered completely. Bullets poured down on the reinforcements who were still pushing forward, unaware of what was happening.

“Please!! Run!!!”

The students who had been in disarray began retreating while protecting the citizens. In their haste to turn and run, they tripped over each other, and torn banners blocked their vision. Christian moved while supporting an injured underclassman.

“Luci! What are you doing!”

The magic department students were also running while desperately casting protective barriers on fleeing citizens. In the midst of all this commotion, he encountered a female underclassman who was sitting completely dazed.

“Ah, ah…”

The corpse she held in her arms. The moment Christian saw the young man, his blue cloak stained black with blood, words failed him.

“Aaaaah!”

At the sound of more gunfire. Luci, who had been staring blankly ahead, suddenly stood up.

“Murderers!”

Even in this street filled with all sorts of noise, her clear scream echoed far and wide.

“You murderers—!”

She raised both hands high.

Light flowed from the small golden pendant she used as a magical medium. Her body lifted into the air, and waves of flame enveloped her entire form before shooting toward the police forces with a whoosh.

“Wait, you…!”

“Die! Die!! Die!!!”

She seemed unable to control herself even as she raged with fury, tears streaming down her face as she hurled flames everywhere.

“Kyaaaah!”

“It’s hot! Save me!”

The flames instantly consumed the front line of the riot police. Swept up like a tide, the officers writhing in agony within the fire completely broke their formation.

The thick smell of burning flesh filled the air, and the police hurriedly retreated to escape the flames. Lucy seemed shocked by her own actions, dispelling her magic and falling heavily to the ground. The nearby students barely managed to catch her.

“I, I…”

She was trembling with bloodshot eyes.

“With magic, something like this…”

“Luci, it’s not your fault.”

A friend embraced her and sobbed.

“Shoot that crazy bitch!”

The police, having barely regrouped their formation, aimed their guns this way. The students quickly raised barriers again.

“You bastards! What crime has this student committed! What did we do so wrong!”

An indignant voice burst out. Among the people fleeing and screaming, a middle-aged man stepped forward and blocked the path in front of the students.

“Why kill people! People! Why are police killing people!”

The women with hands red and frozen from the cold also surrounded Lucy.

These were the people who had brought firewood to make fires during the harsh winter cold, boiling warm water to share, helping them endure the night.

“Get lost! You can all go to hell!!”

People who had been running away began turning back one by one, more and more of them. They surrounded the wounded and the group of students like multiple layers of shields, cursing and pointing fingers at the police.

“Rotten bastards!”

“You’ll be damned for this!”

Curses weren’t enough—all sorts of objects flew at the police. From the torches they’d been holding to shoes, stones picked up from the street, books, broken glass fragments.

“Shields up!”

The police easily blocked them with their steel shields, but in that gap, angry young men charged barehanded, slamming into the barricades. While they pushed against the police lines in a test of strength, gunshots rang out several times. But even as the front line fell covered in blood, people from the rear kept surging forward.

It was a kind of frenzy.

“Mob psychology is truly terrifying.”

Christian muttered, overwhelmed by the euphoria.

“Murderous police, go away!!”

“Go away! Go away!!”

He picked up a fallen flag and waved it. He could taste blood in his mouth, his throat was so raw it made metallic sounds, but he didn’t care and kept screaming. Luci and the magic department students also sobbed as they cast barrier spells and offensive magic like lightning bolts and hail.

People had died, were still dying, yet seeing this, they didn’t run away but instead charged back like this. He and his comrades—

How had they all gone mad?

Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat!

Bang! Bang!

Fighting that was no different from war.

In the dark dawn, the faces illuminated by blazing torches were all twisted with malice.

Between countless flying bullets, people covered their faces with their arms and charged. They tore off doors from nearby buildings to use as shields or broke branches from street trees to swing like clubs.

Wave after wave of humanity surged forward. The police held their steel shields firmly and fired through gaps, but more people kept rushing out than were falling.

No matter how much they shot, if the enemy wasn’t intimidated and had lost all reason, it was useless. It simply became a battle of numbers.

The frontline police learned this truth painfully.

The lucky ones who hadn’t been shot pushed against the shields. Under the pressure, they even climbed over shields that had tilted inward.

“Aaaah!”

The front line collapsed entirely, and a young police officer screamed at the vicious faces of protesters who had broken through. His hand trying to pull the trigger was firmly grabbed.

“You! A kid like you! Why are you holding a gun!”

A middle-aged veteran in old military uniform screamed as he repeatedly struck the officer’s wrist.

“Do you know what war is?! Do you know what it means to kill people?!”

His roar now sounded more like sobbing than screaming. The veteran picked up the gun the young officer had dropped and aimed it around.

“Back off, back off I said, kyaaaah!”

Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat!

He instantly became riddled with bullets and collapsed.

“Those fucking bastards!”

The people who had rushed through the path the veteran opened were consumed with rage. Shouting erupted everywhere, a brawl of bodies pushing and shoving. In this fight that had lost all order, the police caught up in the melee began to be pushed back little by little.

Against the crushing wave of humanity, shooting or anything else was useless.

Dawn gradually broke. And against the backdrop of the pale sun, a massive creature appeared once again.

“Senior! Christian senior!”

It was Tom Mitzfeld’s voice. He was flying overhead on a dragon, screaming at the top of his lungs.

“Kaaaah!”

It was the green dragon Elizabeth, who had disappeared somewhere around sunset.

The dragon that arrived in the blink of an eye directly struck the combat police forces that had lost momentum under pressure from the protesters. Their already collapsed formation crumbled entirely.

“These crazy…!!”

But sporadic gunfire continued. Some who had lost their minds shot at the dragon, but the bullets just bounced off the smooth scales.

“Attention police officers! Surrender immediately!”

A magically amplified voice rang out from atop the dragon.

“The White Raven Order warns you! Stop the violent suppression and put down your weapons immediately!”

The combat police, their eyes already rolled back with fear, were slinking away. They knelt or quietly slipped away, abandoning their riot batons, shields, and guns.

“Chief…!”

“D-don’t panic! The casualties are still minimal! Keep pushing forward!”

“It’s impossible! Morale is already broken and the command structure has collapsed!”

Police Chief Heinrich Mates, receiving reports from behind in District 1, nearly choked.

“I can’t wait for orders from Supreme Leader any longer. If the protesters get into District 1, I’ll lose my head for sure!”

Such impatience had led him to deploy the combat police, but his independent judgment had resulted in the worst possible outcome. The police sent to the broadcasting station were also reporting that they couldn’t easily penetrate due to fierce resistance from the White Raven Order, and in the end, only one option remained.

“I need to see His Excellency. We have no choice but to coordinate with the military!”

Chief Mates hurried into action.

***

The fighting was over.

District 1’s wide streets were chaotic with people who couldn’t escape and had collapsed, those beating police officers who were crying and begging for mercy, those trying to stop them, those moaning in pain, and those sitting stunned, alternately laughing and crying in hysteria.

“Senior! Sorry to keep you waiting!”

The green dragon Elizabeth landed gently on the roadside. Tom Mitzfeld struggled down with a large box, calling out to Christian.

“Here, I brought things that might help!”

The box was packed full with everything the protesters needed, from food and blankets to daily necessities.

Following Tom down, with Ian’s help, came people all wearing white coats—doctors.

“We’ll take care of the wounded.”

Richard led them as they rushed toward the injured.

Over the past day, Richard had gone around persuading medical school seniors and juniors he knew, as well as doctors he’d become friendly with through various gatherings. To help the protesters.

Some had kept their hospitals open as usual, others had noticed the danger and barricaded themselves at home. He and Tom had gone around begging and pleading. Naturally, they were often rejected or reported, or outright turned away, but quite a few still agreed to come.

Most were those who had served as military doctors and seen hell.

The protest had reached a temporary lull as the police fled, but not everyone was resting. Rather, as the excitement faded and the frenzy subsided, the problems of reality began to come into focus. So people sat in blank despair or sobbed.

In this chaotic scene so out of place with their pure white coats fluttering, the doctors cleaned the protesters’ wounds, stopped bleeding, and applied medicine. The police were no exception.

“Why… are you helping me…?”

A young combat officer, barely more than a child, asked through tears of pain. Richard skillfully cleaned the flowing blood while shaking his head.

“Don’t speak. It’ll reopen the wound.”

“Huu…”

The young officer gave up everything and closed his eyes, entrusting his body to Richard’s hands.

“Here, one per person!”

“If anyone has trouble moving, let us know and we’ll come to you!”

The protest leadership—Oscar, Ian, and Tom—were busy distributing the many supplies they’d brought to the people. Those who had shivered through the night wrapped themselves in blankets and filled their empty stomachs.

It was everything they’d cleaned out from Ian’s house—dried bread and canned goods—but it was nowhere near enough for everyone to eat their fill. Barely enough to go around a little. But no one complained.

“Excuse me, thank you.”

Christian approached the red-haired young man unloading cargo from the dragon’s back and quietly greeted him. Oscar Fisher, wasn’t it? He was called a young man, but he was several years older than Christian and had an experience and depth in his eyes and expression that he couldn’t match.

“White Raven Order, you said. I’m Christian Bamel from Lüdelheim Comprehensive University…”

“The student council president, right? I heard.”

Oscar smiled.

“Leading the protesters from the front—you’re very brave.”

“No! Not at all. More than that, thank you so, so much for helping us.”

“Our goal is the same.”

Oscar said matter-of-factly while handing Tom a large box. Christian helped the staggering Tom and asked.

“Goal?”

“……”

“You mean bringing down the Supreme Leader?”

“No, not that. More precisely.”

Oscar whispered while glancing around at the groaning people.

“Making the people bring down the Supreme Leader.”

For a moment, a chilling coldness crept up the back of Christian’s neck.