The World of Masks

A group walks through a rough hill. Wearing French military uniforms, they were so miserable that they could not even say they were deceived. His eyes were thin, his cheeks were all swollen, and his clothes were torn and soiled. If I wasn't wearing a uniform, I would have believed a homeless person.

They don't even have the weapons a soldier should carry. The attack on monsters and undead caused the base to be one of the dismantled, horn-ridden Stragglers, so we don't even have time to pack up weapons or anything. I don't know if it's just a rifle, but what they were carrying was a heavy weapon to kill monsters. You never know when monsters and undead might put their swords behind you, and there's nothing to jump at with that weight. Most importantly, the weapon was no more than a blockage, as it ran out of ammunition.

I wonder how long it's been since I've been around. If this were a continent, it would be worth a visit to their camp, but it was an island floating in the Sea of Observation. An island in enemy territory. Australia's nearest territory is thousands of kilometers away. Swimming is impossible. It was not a spiritual distance. Eventually, they had no choice but to wander from place to place, waiting for reinforcements to arrive, or hoping for an army that was still standing.

But the more I wandered, the more I got tired. The most urgent was the food. There would have been good food left in New Zealand, where no humans had already lived. They run out of food, and they have to hold on to the hungry stomach. A few days ago, I was hungry for canned goods with a long shelf life at an abandoned convenience store.

Something comes into their eyes as they slowly descend from the hills, forcefully teasing their swollen feet. They open their eyes wide.

"Supplies!"

One shouted in joy.

A huge chunk of baggage placed next to a fluttering white parachute in the wind. Apparently, the Allied forces were pouring supplies into New Zealand. The platoon members desperately make fun of you as if you were tired. You rush down the slope and run for your supplies.

They snatch and tear the supplies without a word. The first thing that pops up is new weapons and ammunition. It was an important supply, but unlike a soldier, they threw their weapons and ammunition at you. Supplies have come out below. Military uniforms, medicines, etc. And then came the food they wanted the most.

"Aha, yes, yes!"

The soldiers start packing scrambled food. From combat rations to chocolates, biscuits, and drinking water, they were lined up with the things they needed the most. I won't be able to feed the whole crew with a single supply, but there's still something in my mouth. They roughly tear off the wrapping paper and start shoving food down their mouths.

Nothing to say. All I hear in the silence is the sound of chewing food and passing it over my throat. After a long food intake, they were overwhelmed by happy feelings. But their happiness did not last long.

Phew!

"Huff!"

Something popped out of the neck of a soldier who was putting chocolate in his hands and mouth hard. Blood spurts from the throat of a sad blade.

The soldiers hurriedly throw out the food they were eating. The undead are quicker, though they tried to take out the dagger they had. The undead's blade protrudes from the ground, swiftly swinging.

Screaming!

Without even screaming, the neck of a soldier rises into the air. Food that has not yet been swallowed has flowed from my mouth.

Phew!

A straight knife pierces the heart. The soldier died without a proper response.

Qajik!

"Aah!"

This soldier was unlucky. I had to stare down blankly at the intestines that didn't die neatly like the rest of the soldiers. I was busy quickly picking up the intestines that had fallen out of the pain a second time. However, the already nicked ship has barely regurgitated its innards. The soldier had to pick up and hold his intestines until he died.

After a short massacre, only shredded corpses and bloody supplies were left around the supplies. As you look around, the undead are sure there are no more prey left. They pick up their swords and strike their supplies. After stopping all supplies, the undead begin to move freely. If you encounter wandering Confederate soldiers, they will invade unscathed. If you see supplies left unattended without a master, you will hide around them and wait for them to flee like rats. The undead are thoroughly allied nightmares.

* * *

Miller seems to have a rat on his head because of the bad news coming from everywhere. A massive assault on the presence of extraterrestrial worlds, with more than half of the air force in the air, and more than half of the naval forces in the air when the placenta was blown away and the supply to New Zealand was in question. Usually, even if it is a little difficult, it will be considered worth it. Even though they are very strong enemies, they will be easily swept away by the powerful firepower of the Allied forces unless they are approached. However, this powerful firepower is only when there is an air force that can provide air support at any time, as long as you communicate with a well-supplied army.

But now I couldn't satisfy any conditions.

The supply lines have been cut, and calling for air support should fly more than 2,000 kilometers from Australia to New Zealand. Plus, we don't have enough fighters. To make it easier for the Air Force to support the Army, moving an enormous number of air forces to New Zealand became the worst handshake.

'It was a trap.'

You can tell by now. I'm glad to hear you've defeated millions of undead and monsters, but the amount spilled now is much more than what has been defeated. The enemy is waiting. that they're going deeper into their territory. A misunderstanding that you can wipe out enough enemies has created the worst. As a result, an enormous number of three million troops were isolated on the island. Many have already scattered their horns after a massive warrior has been attacked. The remaining troops are massing in groups, desperate to defend. I had to save them somehow. The United Nations has already had an atmosphere of failure.

'It's not the atmosphere. It's just a failure.'

Miller sighs and looks at the Union General of another country.

"What about air support?"

"It's not working."

Miller's face twitches.

"Is it the flying monsters again?"

"Yes."

Those who thoroughly watered the alliance forces with the giant sea monsters that appeared this time. Most of the planes in New Zealand were destroyed in their raids.

"Fortunately, it's not faster than a fighter. I can't seem to catch it, but there are too many of them." Some of them jump into the path of a freelance fighter and bash their bodies in, but most of all, attack a transport aircraft like a bad idea. Even the supplies that are dropping are caught in the middle, making them unusable. We need a reconsideration of the operation. "

Miller bites his lips tightly. Enemies were indeed relentlessly harassing themselves. One way or another, I felt clear that I was going to annihilate the remaining army in New Zealand.

"Should I tell him to surrender?"

One of the men sits a little distance away and spits out in a desperate voice.

"I don't think they know about the Geneva Convention."

Miller clumsily drops his servant's words.

"We have to send supplies somehow. And we need to think of a way to get the Army out. Let's just try to squeeze our heads together."

Miller says the generals and their men sigh low and hit their heads. At worst, they had to do what they had to do.

Knock, knock!

"Come in."

Since I was interrupted by an important meeting and haven't seen a man throwing up good information at someone opening that door lately, Miller's voice is full of disgust.

A soldier walks through the door. The General seems uncomfortable with his mood, and his face is frozen solid. But the mission is the mission. He spoke in a loud voice.

"The secretary general of PPSO is here."

Miller's face creaks.

"I'm in a meeting. Tell him to come back later."

"Four!"

The soldier hurriedly salutes and leaves. I didn't want to stay here or here or there in a starry space for long.

"Is that okay? I think the PPSO might want to join the war, too." "

It was a fairly well-known case that Kim Jin-seok has been insisting steadily on the inputs of superpowers ever since the Allied forces were severely hit. But Miller snores.

"Hmph, if we and our enemies are equally powerful, what are we supposed to do with hundreds of other humans in this crowd?" And you have no credibility. This is nothing but the talk of a child who knows nothing of war. Let's talk about how to get our troops out of New Zealand. "

Miller clears his mind of the human idea of Kim Jin-seok and smokes again, then starts rolling his head to create a new operation.