9th Grade Civil Servant In Another World Chapter 213 - Fire (6)

Christian and the protesters continued toward the aerial fortress.

Some of the citizens who had followed the protesters awakened through the blood-stained night. They finished arming themselves with weapons the police had lost and reorganized as a militia.

The militia moved stealthily through alleyways, tracking police movements. They toppled street trees and made barricades with furniture that citizens had contributed.

Gunfights broke out throughout the city. While the police’s attention was diverted by guerrillas scattered in groups of dozens, employing hit-and-run tactics, Ian and Oscar led a branch of the militia to support the broadcasting station.

The White Raven Order continued broadcasting Sophia Kohl’s transmissions, and police forces surrounded the station in ongoing combat trying to annihilate them.

Civilians with makeshift weapons—they could have been ruthlessly swept aside under normal circumstances. If only there had been enough time, and if deserters hadn’t been steadily leaving because of those damned broadcasts.

Even under harsh conditions, the police had driven the White Raven Order nearly to death’s door, but when a massive dragon and armed militia appeared, they abandoned resistance and fled.

“Thanks for coming.”

Erika offered her greetings with a grimy appearance.

Inside the broadcasting station was chaos.

With the main entrance breached and enemies having entered the building, corpses lay scattered everywhere and the smell of blood filled the air.

“Fortunately, there haven’t been any deaths yet. Emma really stepped up. She’s genuinely skilled with guns. And fearless.”

Emma had shown not the slightest hesitation in killing enemies. The problem was the blind fanaticism hidden behind her seemingly calm and serious expression. Still, she’d been incredibly helpful right now.

“The broadcasting station’s complex layout made it easier to defend. But if they’d held out just a little longer, we would have run out of ammunition first.”

They’d been stockpiling supplies through the black market since living in Ameli’s tavern. But it apparently wasn’t enough for intense combat.

“If it’s advantageous for defense, we should make this our base.”

Ian said, kicking aside glass shards.

“Outside is—honestly speaking—impossible to predict even one step ahead. The militia continues its activities, but their limitations are clear, and the protesters could be massacred at any time. Why hasn’t Kruger shown his face yet…?”

“Lucas must be doing something from the inside. We have to believe in him.”

Erika replied in a weary voice while removing a record from the machine.

“Woof! Woof woof!”

Colin recognized Lucas’s name and excitedly barked. His black fur was soaked with blood, giving off a metallic smell. These were traces from the recent battle when he’d torn out an enemy’s throat to protect Erika.

“Colin, just hold on a little longer. You’ll be able to see him.”

“Whine…”

When Oscar quickly comforted him, he soon whimpered pitifully. Despite his tiger-like size, he still acted like a puppy.

“Sigh, Lucas should have taken you with him somehow. The poor thing gets weaker each day.”

So please, Lucas, stay alive. Oscar muttered inwardly.

The glass booth was quiet.

Even when gunfights erupted outside, it was soundproof enough that almost nothing could be heard.

With a brief respite, Emma fed her daughter Angela baby food in the corner.

Fortunately, Angela had been playing quietly in the crib Emma had made for her. That meant she hadn’t witnessed the horrible carnage outside the booth. It was scenery that once seen could never be forgotten, so it was better to block it out completely.

While Emma cared for Angela, Daniel conversed with Erika and Oscar while writing the next script.

“Emma, shall we begin now?”

At Daniel’s gentle question, Emma smiled brightly.

***

“Citizens, did you listen well to Ms. Sophia Kohl’s broadcast? We of the White Raven Order have urgent news to share with you.

Last night, in Lüdelheim District 1, police opened fire on peaceful protesters. Current casualties total 238 people. Many of them are students from Lüdelheim Comprehensive University who were at the front.

Citizens, can the state commit such violence against its own people? What should we do to prevent this tragedy? We feel utterly helpless. Our White Raven Order is currently supporting the protesters and moving toward the Supreme Leader’s residence. We want to ask the Supreme Leader. Just how long will you continue to torment us?

Citizens, the bodies of the victims will be housed temporarily at the National Broadcasting Station building in Lüdelheim District 1. Those desperately searching for family or friends, please come to the broadcasting station. A temporary medical ward and supply depot have also been set up here, so those in difficulties are also welcome to visit.

Now we will read the names of the victims whose identities have been confirmed. Schön Mark, Sara Entel, Karl Torbin…”

Wet sleet began falling again. District 1’s neatly paved roads also became slippery and muddy with melted snow.

“Damn it.”

First Lieutenant Dominik Schuster brushed sleet from his uniform cap and sighed. His mood was as murky and complicated as the weather.

He was currently guarding one of District 1’s main streets with about a thousand troops.

All competent soldiers had gone to the front lines. Or were guarding truly important facilities. The only organization available to suppress protests was the police, and the Capital Defense Corps was currently moving.

So he’d ended up here. To buy as much time as possible.

He was merely an officer in charge of training new recruits.

‘Why me…?’

Even that had originally been his role as a recruitment examiner. A cushy second lieutenant position where he’d spent boring days until the war broke out and personnel shortages led to him being assigned to the training corps.

He’d received emergency orders at dawn, woken sleeping trainees who knew nothing, and come here. But honestly, he was still just confused.

‘Why should I take responsibility? Why should I shoot them…?’

First Lieutenant Schuster suppressed his boiling emotions and gripped his rifle.

“Here they come.”

His colleague muttered.

Vigorous singing could be heard from the distance.

We are equal before God!

We are free before God!

While we live

Even after we die

Our souls are great!

Our souls are eternal!

That was definitely the song His Excellency the Supreme Leader had written lyrics for.

A song every Schufaben naturally memorized. A song with an addictive melody and simple lyrics. A song that ultimately ended with lyrics praising Schufaben’s beauty.

But why did it sound so mocking at this very moment?

“Hhk…”

One of the trainees standing behind First Lieutenant Schuster made a sobbing sound.

The protesters began coming into view along the straight road.

With a dragon gliding gracefully overhead, people playing drums and pipes they’d found somewhere, performing lively tunes. They walked in formation, faces somehow both resolute and bright, singing loudly.

Within blue protective barriers created by mages, faces covered in blood and dust had only their eyes sparkling brightly.

Our souls are great!

Our souls are eternal!

The protesters stopped at a distance from the soldiers. First Lieutenant Schuster raised his hand with a deeply furrowed face.

“All units, aim!”

The soldiers hesitantly raised their rifles.

“Fi—!”

“Hhuuuk!”

A sudden burst of loud crying. When he hurriedly turned around, the soldier who’d been sobbing earlier had thrown down his rifle and collapsed.

“I can’t do it!”

“What kind of behavior is this! Stand up immediately, trainee!”

“I can’t! My friends are over there!”

“What…?”

First Lieutenant Schuster’s mind went blank. While he hesitated, the trainee cried out through his tears.

“I was a university student too! Until the military police dragged me away a month ago! How can I…!”

“Shut up!”

The officer couldn’t stand it any longer and kicked the trainee in the back of his knees, knocking him down.

“I don’t need to hear a loser’s excuses. Just fire!”

But in the cold silence that had descended on the street, the trainees only flinched. While they might have all fired together, in this atmosphere, being the first to pull the trigger was unthinkable. No, that would already be tantamount to suicide.

“How can I shoot my friends! No, how can soldiers point their guns at citizens! Please, I absolutely cannot do such a thing!”

The singing had already stopped. In the quiet, the recruit’s tearful voice spread out.

“Everyone here is the same! Even the longest-serving guy hasn’t been here two months! Do you think you’re the only one? Those people are rioters! Fire immediately!”

Everyone only watched each other nervously. The officer let out a bitter laugh of disbelief.

“You crazy bastards!”

“Ha…”

First Lieutenant Schuster removed his wet uniform cap and scratched his head roughly.

“Damn it, I can’t take this anymore.”

Then he swiftly snatched the rifle the officer had angrily drawn.

“You want a summary execution, huh?!”

“Enough now. Unless you want to die too.”

“What, what?”

He emptied all the ammunition from the confiscated rifle and stepped forward with both hands raised.

“Listen, I’m surrendering. Will you shoot me in the back, or will you follow me and throw down your guns?”

At that, the trainees hesitated then threw their rifles on the ground.

The trainee who’d been kicked and left tear-stained by the officer limped up, calling his friends’ names as he ran toward them. Several students broke away from the protesters and rushed to embrace him.

The trainees scattered in all directions or joined the protesters. Some encountered family, friends, or neighbors within the wave of protesters.

First Lieutenant Schuster had no such people, but he quietly followed the protesters. The aerial fortress in the distance was growing closer.

‘Come to think of it, Lucas Redan. Will that guy be dragged down and killed too?’

Dominik Schuster recalled him.

Seven years ago, the scrawny young man with wild eyes who’d come saying he wanted to become a soldier.

Dominik Schuster, who’d felt pity for that passion and conviction, had gotten him placed in a 9th-grade civil service position. But he’d soon quit and opened a tavern, then somehow became a businessman, then a general, then a commander, and now he was the Supreme Leader’s secretary.

He’d never met anyone as unique as Lucas Redan in his entire life.

But if the protesters called out the Supreme Leader, would he come out too? What was that young man who’d been such an pure idealist doing now?

***

The protesters’ path to the aerial fortress was long and treacherous. Barricades set up at every checkpoint and soldiers standing their ground. Fierce battles erupted. Casualties continued mounting.

The assembled military police and handful of Capital Defense Corps fought the militia protecting the protesters. They pursued relentlessly even when they fled, playing deadly cat-and-mouse games, and Lüdelheim echoed with gunfire for days.

People flocked to the National Broadcasting Station. Whether they were injured, worried about the White Raven Order, or had come searching for the bodies of family and friends. And those who had something to say over the airwaves.

“I’m Ralph Brandt. I’m a veteran who returned to Lüdelheim just a few days ago. I’m not good with words. But I want to say this much. The battlefield is hell, and whoever started this war is a son of a bitch who should go to hell!”

“Hello, I’m… I can’t give my name, but I’m someone rescued by the White Raven Order. The White Raven Order saved me when I was dragged to Ossel four years ago. The scars from the torture I endured then are still carved into my body. I’m so sick of this country, of the Supreme Leader.”

Countless voices flowed throughout Schufaben.

Riding those voices, protests erupted like wildfire not only in Lüdelheim but in other cities and towns. Of course, there were even fewer forces available to suppress them, so the entire country was in chaos.

Many used this opportunity to pursue personal gain.

Those who picked up scattered weapons to shoot their enemies, those who smashed shop windows to steal goods, those who only slipped into protests when supplies were being distributed then disappeared.

Criminals ran wild as if they owned the world. Cities burned everywhere. Even if police and military defined it as ‘rioting,’ no one could object to the scenes that unfolded for days.

But the protesters pressed steadily forward.

***

And I awakened.

“What, is it mealtime?”

The blindfold was removed.

During the time that had passed, I’d repeatedly dreamed of hanging myself and kicking away the chair. The sensation of the thin rope chafing my skin, the feeling of my throat gradually constricting and cutting off my breath, was vivid.

No, had it really been a dream?

Either way, I was glad to escape that terrible sensation. I’d never been so happy to see Julian Kaschtel’s haggard face, I thought.

But a completely unexpected person stood before me.

“…Damier?”

“I’m going to die soon.”

I hadn’t expected to hear such words right off the bat.