Girls' Frontline: My Apocalypse with Dolls

Page 268

Time travel is indeed a tough job, and what he has to do now is much more troublesome than defeating the Demon King. At least the Demon King will make you fight his subordinates first, and most of the time it's a direct confrontation. It's not like that with those politicians...

If he had to say something, Luo Fan did feel a bit tired, but now was not the time for him to stop.

If it wasn't us, then who else could it be?

......

"Having a nightmare?"

"Um......"

Luo Fan was only responding subconsciously, and had no idea who was asking him the question.

"Victor?"

He found it unbelievable that Victor was still awake at a time like this.

"Ah."

"Recalling things from the past?"

Luo Fan wasn't sure if this counted as something from the past. He didn't exist in the game, but to the girls, he definitely did.

......

"I guess so. It brought back some bad memories. After all, we've never really had anything good happen to us."

In the darkness, Victor didn't know how to answer, and simply nodded in response.

......

Being pinned down by two people, he couldn't change his posture. He could only try to make himself as comfortable as possible, but his posture still looked as stiff as that of an elderly person with hemiplegia.

Thinking that Victor was just asking casually, Lovan didn't take it too seriously and prepared to close his eyes and continue resting.

......

"Death is inevitable, but life is precious and should not be wasted, Commander, you know that."

"..."

Yes, I know that, but I haven't reached that level of awareness yet, the ability to truly face death with equanimity.

I still can't see casualties as just numbers; the more times I've been to the scene, the more obvious this feeling becomes.

Therefore, I have never been a good commander; I was always hesitant and overly cautious...

"Thank you, Viktor."

In the end, that was all Luo Fan could say.

There is still much for him to learn on this path; even in his dreams, he needs sufficient material.

Although Anjie isn't here right now, I guess I can call myself an idealist now?

Here we encourage each other, White Eagle, Denver, Colorado.

I hope you're doing well in that terrible world over there, at least you've lived one more day, until you got here...

I believe that one day, a gentle twilight will arrive, and the stars will tell us our story...

P.S.: Please give me more tickets, I don't want to see that the only four tickets I have are mine (

384 The Morning of the Knight and the Princess

"..."

The architect rubbed his eyes and sat up from the grime-covered mattress.

As is her usual habit, she would always stretch and yawn loudly when she got up to greet the day with a burst of energy, but this time, she chose to remain silent.

At 7:50 a.m., just six hours after they had gone to bed, the architect woke up and looked around. In the cold office, everyone was still resting, either lying on a smudged mattress like her or sitting in a worn-out office chair like the commander.

Although everyone was together, the atmosphere was completely different from that of a bar, filled with the aura of death. The people sitting there didn't seem to be alive, but rather corpses waiting to be disposed of.

The architect didn't like sitting, but she couldn't very well wake Lovan up to liven things up...

With no one watching, no one would notice that the architect was unusually without a smile on his face.

She couldn't smile at this sight.

I got up and went to the balcony to look down at the city. Even from the seventh floor, I could catch a glimpse of its splendor and reminisce about its past prosperity.

Explosions and destruction excite the architect; when she sees a burning city, she becomes visibly excited, revealing a lively, slightly manic smile.

But in this city, there was no burning, no roaring; she could only feel the cold and death, and she disliked this atmosphere as well.

The scavengers are reveling, while the living are still busy digging maggots out of their wounds...

She enjoys the thrill of the explosions. People sometimes think she's crazy, but she's clearly much more lucid than she appears.

"Architect, what are you doing up so early?"

She knew that voice all too well.

"Oh, that's because he's so excited about finally getting a chance to fire the cannon that he can't sleep!"

The architect immediately turned around, with a "you know what I mean" expression.

She adjusted quickly, her smile was natural and controlled, but architects mostly only extend their smiles without ever retracting them...

Despite the slightest disturbance, it was still noticed by the measurement officer.

"The commander needs operations that are as covert as possible, so you'd better be more discreet."

"Hey, okay, okay."

Seemingly stuck in the same idle state as the architect, the surveyor sat blankly for a while, then took two coats and went into the balcony.

"Wear it, it's a bit chilly in the morning."

He handed the coat to the other person, and although his attitude was rather cold, the coat was warm.

"Humans don't catch colds, what's there to be afraid of?"

"I was worried that if you were frozen for too long it would affect your thinking, so I used the exhaust flame from the transmitter to warm myself up."

"Hahaha! How did you know I was planning to do that?"

The surveyor did not answer, and also looked down at the already dilapidated city.

They had seen this scene far too many times, but most of the time what was scattered on the ground were parts, not internal organs.

They didn't feel regret; it was a human choice, and they were simply fulfilling their duties. In this world, the scope of those duties was even narrower...

But if they could, who would want to turn a brightly lit city into this overnight?

Spring seems to have arrived a little late this year; it's almost April...

In the midst of a desolate silence, the metrologist voiced his thoughts.

The architect casually draped his arm over the surveyor, glancing at his fingers every now and then.

"That's right, it's still snowing at this time of year, the weather should be warming up by now."

He acted as if it were none of his business...

Every now and then, you can see zombies gnawing on corpses covered in snow on the street. Even though everyone is hiding in their own sewers out of fear, many people still stick their heads out like rats, trying to get some food or water for survival. Here, people really become no different from rats. Without weapons and manpower, the shadow of death is always around them.

They are not struggling to survive yet, but they are witnessing it all...

"Shall we go inside the building?"

The architect nudged the surveyor's arm.

"Ah."

After closing the door, the surveyor picked up two pistols from the table and tossed one to the architect. The two concealed it in their coats and headed out of the office before the others regained their senses.

At the door, the two exchanged glances with Mondragon, who was on night watch, before leaving.

The surveyor remained constantly vigilant about his surroundings, while the architect appeared much more at ease.

The reason is simple: no one here can threaten them, and they could clear this building by themselves, even with their bare hands...

The people in the building gossiped about their relatively glamorous clothes, but they were completely ignored and walked slowly down the corridor.

"These people are really pitiful. They don't have enough to eat or wear. Even beautiful girls like us have to be on guard all the time. We're not going to do anything bad."

The architect put his hands in his pockets, toning down his casual posture.

The metrologist remained indifferent, showing no particular interest in the people here.

"Perhaps they have already become victims of political struggles, and they don't even care about their own country, so how could it be our turn?"

Recalling Klose's angry outburst last night, the measurement officer couldn't help but feel a wave of disdain.

"That's true... But think about it, whether in the past or now, isn't the Commander always fighting for the same goal? It's just that the methods and styles have changed."

"Yes, I know, the edge of a new world..."

In two worlds, they are fighting alone. How far can they go?

But what the world is like is truly irrelevant to them, the Iron-Blooded Engineers; they are only fighting for Luo Fan.

Only a small number of Griffin's people had a goal to strive for in order to save Lovan and this world; the rest of them fought for Lovan, including Paradis.

Their methods, including using their voices, aren't exactly clean, which is understandable...

After all, according to the data provided by 45, the actions of the commander and the first few squads to arrive had already caused White Eagle losses of millions of dollars...

We don't need their money, right?

"Crack!"

Not far away, the sound of shattering glass rang out.

"Damn it, I spilled my water!"

The two turned around and saw a strange man venting his anger on a ragged old man.

The broken glass lay on the ground; it seemed the old man had tripped over the man while sitting on the ground, causing the glass to fall.

The man grabbed the old man by the collar and raised his hand as if to hit him, but the architect and the surveyor chose to ignore it. This matter had nothing to do with them. They certainly had their own sense of right and wrong, but whether they wanted to get involved was another matter entirely.

385 Encounter

However, watching the excitement might be interesting, since there aren't many entertainment options in the morning. It's better to see how things develop...

The old man was perhaps too weak from prolonged hunger to even beg for mercy, and his frail body was dragged up by the man.

"You old bastard, why did you have to sit on the street? Don't you have your own room?!"

He raised his fist, but didn't immediately swing it in anger.

There was a hat on his head, so the two people couldn't see the old man's eyes. If they didn't look closely, they would think that the old man had fainted on the spot.

“Hey, Ryan, old Burke got thrown out by his son again.”

"Wait, is this old man Burke?"

Another man who was drinking water called out to him in time, causing his raised fist to pause again...

"Yes, he's sitting right outside his son's room. It's not the first time. He's probably been thrown out by his son again. If you want some water, I have some here. Don't bully him."

......

The man called Ryan casually placed the old man on a bench, and then...

"boom!"

He kicked the door open and strode inside.

"Where is Old Burke's son?!"

......

"Pfft, that's quite dramatic..."

The architect couldn't help but chuckle and smoothed his long ponytail with his hand.

I didn't expect it. I thought it was going to be another case of beating an old man, but this big guy was actually easier to talk to than I thought.

The measurement officer shook his head: "They're evenly matched. That one kick probably puts the old man in even worse shape than before..."

Just as the two were about to continue watching the show, they heard footsteps ahead.

Turning back, Klose, who had brought them back to this building last night, stood before them.