Today I'm working outside.
The other day, I ate and killed a guard in my cell, They think that it was an outburst of violent behavior because I hadn't been on the battlefield for a while, so I was under a lot of stress.
The situation seemed to be like that, and thanks to that, I am enjoying the atmosphere of this place for the first time in a long while.
"Damn it!!!!"
I heard a voice from my left.
I looked over to see that a pickup truck was rushing towards me. The driver was shouting at the top of his lungs.
So I threw the shredded head of a man I happened to have in my hand as hard as I could at the truck as if it were a baseball.
Naturally, the speed of the head surpassed that of a baseball.
The human head that turned into a cannonball broke through the windshield of the truck and shattered the driver's head splatted all over the inside of a car like a ketchup bottle had exploded.
Despite this, the pickup truck did not slow down and rammed into me as if it is a grudge left behind by the driver.
But I didn't panic. I held up my left hand.
I thrust my hand into the emblem of the truck that is directly in front of me and faces the collision without difficulty.
A heavy impact went through my body with a thud ....
The truck lurched forward and then came to a stop with a crunch.
"I'm going to avenge Mikey! Fuck you, butcher!!!"
The back of the pickup truck had been modified and had a single heavy 50 cal. machine gun attached to it.
My butcher's skin would bounce of small bullets, but a heavy machine gun at close range would hurt and injure me. If I got hit at important places I might end up dead.
I can't die yet.
A black shadow appeared on the face of the man holding the gun.
"—-!?"
The man looked up at me gasped and his face twisted in despair.
because I had raised a huge blade.
Are you an idiot? ... If you had pulled the trigger right away before screaming like that, you might be able to hit me.
My blade swung down effortlessly, and with a gong! sound, I cut the man in half with the entire vehicle.
Blood and oil mix together and spread to the ground.
The Butcher's Knife–that's what this blade is called. It is the standard short-range weapon of the Butcher.
The term "knife" is a complete misnomer; it's a giant version of a meat cleaver, more like a Zanbatou or a Great Axe.
The thick blade can tear through a thin steel plate as if it were a piece of paper, and as you can see, a simple combat vehicle is no match at all.
I hurriedly climbed up to the back of the truck and removed the heavy machine gun that was installed there. I could see the platoon approaching from afar.
This is the power of the unusual Butcher that I am. A normal Butcher can't be so clever as to take a human weapon and use it against them. They are all idiots.
But I can.
And I can aim accurately because I've been a soldier before. an experienced soldier.
In addition, my eyesight has now been enhanced. It's because of this paper bag I'm wearing on my head.
"butcher bag" that's what they call it and it covers my head. It looks like a square paper bag with a hole in the middle, but it's actually quite sophisticated. It softens the scary appearance of the butcher, hides the control unit on the side of my head, and also provides various assistance. It's also very defensive.
I don't know why it looks like a paper bag when it is so powerful. I guess it's just an alien thing. Perhaps it's to catch us off guard. If that's the case, they are very cunning.
In fact, among the human soldiers, this went by as a paper bag and was devalued.
The purpose of covering the head was not clear to me, and I was even ridiculed for thinking that it was a meat bag to keep the pieces of meat from flying around when the Butcher's head exploded.
I, for one, had no idea that it is so sophisticated until I actually became a Butcher.
Incidentally, when the Butcher dies, Its head always explodes.
This is due to a control device in the side of the head. When the Butcher dies, this device explodes and blows its head off every time.
Whenever a weapon is unusable in enemy territory, we blow it up to prevent it from falling into the hands of the enemy.
As I was thinking about this, I felt an itch in my temple.
I held the removed machine gun in my hand and pointed the muzzle at the platoon in the distance. They were invading in a spread-out formation, just like the theory.
I saw one of them tighten his face and point a finger at me. His mouth is twitching. He seemed to recognize my heroic figure holding a machine gun.
Immediately after, they stopped in their tracks.
Without hesitation, I pulled the trigger.
At the same time as the rhythmic sound of gunfire, blood began to pour out one after another. It was a scene straight out of Rambo.
The aim was precise.
Firing a heavy machine gun and the anti-material rifle is the same thing for me, it's quite a similar thing for comparison. When I hold it up with the physical strength of the butcher, the barrel doesn't shake or even muzzle jump. With the assistance of the butcher bag, it is as if I am firing a machine gun with the accuracy of a sniper.
Right to left. I moved my heavy machine gun horizontally to wipe out the platoon.
I waited for a while, holding the muzzle of the smoking gun, and when I saw that no reinforcements were coming, I lowered my arm.
I let out a sigh and looked back.
The corpses were all over the place.
Two platoons of human corpses that I had shot of earlier were lying around.
It's my policy not to take prisoners. I thought I was showing my Buddhist heart and soul that they would rather die than be captured. Except for the people who betrayed me.
This time, the mission I was given to is to ambush and intercept the enemies. It's over. Let's go home.
Just as I was about to walk away, I heard a voice from the control panel.
–Capture the survivors and return. Capture the survivors and return.
This is a signal to control me, but this control is not working for me. I have to pretend that the aliens are in control of me for now, though, because ignoring them will cause problems later.
I let out a sigh of relief as I dragged my butcher knife through the pool of blood.
A severed torso. A splintered head. Scattered pieces of flesh.
Suddenly, I see a piece of flesh twitching in the middle of it all.
I walked up to it, shaking the ground, but the flesh remained motionless in its prone position.
But it's useless. A butcher bag is an excellent tool for notifying me of the reactions of living things. The acting is also lousy. Even without the aid of the butcher bag, I can see that his chest is rising and falling a bit, and his fingertips are trembling faintly.
This guy was pretending to be dead the whole time...while his allies were being killed around him, right?
When I thought about it, I felt a gush of emotion well up in the pit of my stomach.
It's a grudge that's swirling around me.
I must have been betrayed by these cowards, too.
At that time, the human side was outnumbered. The alien city I'm trapped in now used to be a human frontline fortress city.
It was taken by the alien invasion. I was part of the defensive battle. And I was left behind.
I could have escaped on my own. I was a scout at the time. Running away from an enemy siege was my specialties. But I wasn't the only one that got left behind. Many civilians and wounded soldiers were also left behind.
They used all of us as bait and secretly withdrew without notice.
In the end, I was able to save less than a tenth of them. But I was satisfied with that. I was tired of fighting, and I was going to die for it. I thought I had done a good job in the end.
But I couldn't die.
I stood right next to the coward. He boldly continued to pretend to be dead. Couldn't he have directed that courage in a different direction?
I could have taken him prisoner but...
I put my foot on the back of the coward's head, shaking my head slowly from side to side, pretending to look around for survivors.
It's the same time that I heard a small "Ah" and felt what felt like an egg being crushed underneath my foot.
Killing out of consciousness by making it look like an accident. Trampling you down like a worthless piece of trash on the street. Make him realize that you were never worthy of being born. This way, he can die without any regrets. Because he is so worthless.
This's my kindness, my proof of the humanity that still remains in me.
There seemed to be no other survivors. My work is done. Let's go home this time.
We'll have to hide the heavy machine gun on the way. If we bring it back, we'll be in big trouble. The Butcher is too much for the aliens to handle, so they don't want to give them any more powerful weapons than they need.
Normally, I'd have to throw it away right here, but today, the alien who uses me my direct superior, called the {Lasher} died early, so I'm free to go. Let's take a little detour and go home. Thanks to whoever killed the Lasher.
Shouldn't I try just to escape? No.
The reason is this control device is lodged in the side of my head.
It's also has a self-destruct mechanism.
Now that Lasher isdead, if I don't return to the facility within a certain time frame, I'll die of brain combustion.
This is the reason why I'm still being used by the aliens.
I need to deactivate this device or take away its control terminal to be free. This's my number one priority right now, my first priority.
–Capture the survivors and return. Capture the survivors and return.
I'm not sure what the principle is, but it seems I can give a standard order from a distance. Even if the Lasher who's using me dies, I'll soon receive these general orders to come back. If I ignore it and go far away, I'll probably be sentenced to death by bursting my head off.
... Normally, when a valuable weapon is left on the battlefield, you send a recovery team, right? You order the weapon to come back, and if it does, good. If they don't come back, destroy them. The aliens have this kind of amateurishness. I wish they would be more professional.
Today, there seemed to be human invasions all over the place. It's been a long time since we've had one on a large scale.
But I'm sure the situation is similar in other war zones.
Recently, the human side's strength has been weakening.
I'm sure there will be many more prisoners tonight.
I wonder what kind of girl will come this time.
No matter who comes, It'll end up the same.
I'll fuck them mercifully, comfort them until the very last minute, and finally break their hearts and send them on their way.
This is also my kindness.
A girl should be treated with care like a princess.
I think I used to long for such stories about princes and princesses. I had a vague memory that someone had read it to me and told it to me.
So to speak, I am now a prince who has been transformed into a demon in the alien world, and I'm going to send the trapped princess's heart to heaven, free her from that hell, and rescue her.
See? My mind is still normal, with such a tender side left.
I'm human.