The once clean and tidy breeding room could only be described as a complete mess now, with large pools of bloodstains marring the semi-matte walls. On the ground lay the carcass of the ornamental pig, its white intestines and various organs strewn about. Most nauseating of all was the piece of human flesh that Number 0 had sliced from the body of the military scribe.
That slice of human belly flesh, already riddled with suspicious red spots, mirrored the contagious spots beginning to transfer to the body of the military scribe from the pig corpse.
"Fortunately, you didn't lose any military merit for wounding a superior. In a way, this misfortune turned into a blessing. Even though you've lost the job of pig farmer, you've now replaced the military scribe, which essentially makes you a person of Junior Sergeant level," Little Eight was surprisingly optimistic. "Rest assured, I've already thought of at least five methods for you to gain sufficient military merit by submitting outstanding reports over the next month or so."
In retrospect, Number 0 still did not take her words to heart, and in some sense, Private Number 0 seemed to have a natural talent for attracting trouble.
The eerie pig carcass and the contagious red spots were reported to the military region's Guard Team by the hospital superiors, but the Patrol Army had still not sent anyone. Number 0 was just about to take the initiative to contact Colonel Barton when she was stopped by a Sergeant in a hurry, "Emergency situation, Number 0, immediately head to the arsenal, get a gun to defend yourself, and guide the civilians to the shelter."
Only then did Number 0 realize that the civilians in the Kapa Military District were already standing on the streets, all looking anxious and discussing quietly among themselves.
Shortly after Colonel Barton and his team left the military region, over a hundred soldiers from the rebel army gathered outside the Kapa Military District, led by Colonel Washington. They came armed with portable rocket launchers and heavy machine guns, shouting and cursing outside the military district, occasionally firing a few rockets, demanding that the soldiers stationed in Kapa hand over certain experts who were under house arrest.
"What role can you play in the army?" Following instructions, Number 0 found her way to the Kapa Military District's arsenal, but the first question the arsenal manager asked left her at a loss for words: "I'm in charge of... reconnaissance," Number 0 pondered for a moment. She had never officially participated in combat and had never considered what role she might play.
Due to the rebel army's surprise attack, Number 0 was prematurely granted gun rights. When she had just arrived at the military region, Colonel Barton had said she was entitled to a firearm. When discussing her request with the military scribe, the one who most enjoyed kicking someone when they were down, the scribe ridiculed her, "What does a pig farmer need a gun for? Firing a gun can startle the pigs."
For many, being granted gun rights was a great honor, but for Number 0, it became a form of veiled mockery.
"Here are all the suitable firearms for you," the Kapa Military District's arsenal was not large, but it was well-stocked with various types of firearms.
Firearms were one of the most sophisticated "tools" brought from prehistoric society in the year 2564. Colonel Barton believed that firearms were miraculous creations. Whether it was the gunstock or the forging process for making guns, the Kapa Soldiers deserved the most advanced technology.
Number 0 had just laid hands on a heavy machine gun when suddenly several firearms disappeared in front of her eyes. The arsenal manager unceremoniously confiscated them, saying, "Submachine guns, assault rifles, automatic rifles—none of these are suitable for you."
Members of the assault team in the Patrol Army were built like hills and mounds. For instance, looking at a machine gun with its mount, someone with the build of Private Number 0 would never be able to handle it. With the previous experience of not being able to pull a gun's trigger, Number 0 had no intention of embarrassing herself further. She took another look around the weapon pile and, after sifting through handles and barrels, she chose two weapons.
One was a pistol, and the other looked rather odd with a thin, elongated barrel, and its entire body was a color unlike traditional handguns, shimmering with a hue similar to mother-of-pearl.
"The Ghost Needle Gun is equipped with fifty 0.5-centimeter diameter Cow Hair Needles. Given the limited number of needles, the gunstock is fitted with a needle magnetic stone for repeated recycling." The manager nodded in agreement, also considering these two guns suitable for Number Zero to use.
In fact, both of these handguns were designed for women; one was a shotgun pistol, and the other was a personal defense weapon specially customized for a female member of the Royal Family in the late modern era, certainly a decent choice for a shareholder's handgun.
After hearing the description, Number Zero still hesitated. She wondered if the 0.5-centimeter Cow Hair Needles would truly serve as a means of self-defense in an age where large reptiles roamed supreme.
"Do not expect to take down a Tyrannosaurus with the Ghost Needle Gun, even Colonels can't achieve that. Number Zero, in the Guard Team, your role is that of a Reconnaissance Soldier. The only thing the army requires of you is to protect yourself. Because of the peculiarities of the Ghost Gun, when you shoot, aim for the weak points of animals or enemies—eyes, nostrils, mouth, tongue; your main goal is to ensure your own safety," the manager explained. Number Zero showed no signs of being disheartened and decisively picked up the Ghost Needle Gun.
Colonel Barton's absence did not interrupt the emergency evacuation operations within the military region. Due to frequent harassments by the rebel army, the military region had conducted numerous simulation drills, and everything proceeded in an orderly manner. The men walked at the front, women and children in the middle, with the soldiers at the rear.
Number Zero, along with more than fifty other soldiers, swiftly evacuated the civilians of the military region to several newly dug air-raid shelters.
These shelters, freshly excavated, were dimmer than the outside, yet they were well-stocked with fresh water and supplies.
It was too quiet, wasn't it? Number Zero wondered. From the beginning of the evacuation to their arrival at the air-raid shelters, the military region had maintained an eerie silence. Had the firefight stopped?
"Except for a few liaison and security personnel, the rest will retreat from the air-raid shelters with me," commanded Number Zero as she, along with dozens of other soldiers, rushed to the outskirts of the military region. No one liked the idea of passively awaiting their fate in the shelters.
An hour had passed since the evacuation began. If the rebel army had withdrawn, the Patrol Army would have notified them to lift the martial law. Yet there was no sound of gunfire or artillery. Along the way, everyone's expression was solemn, and their eyes did not meet; each person focused on what was ahead.
When they reached the entrance of the military region, a Corporal spit beside Number Zero muttering, "Damnit."
The smell of ammunition lingered in the air. The sturdy wooden gate had been blasted open, leaving wood chips and bloodstains scattered all over the ground – someone from our side was injured.
A medic was treating the injured soldier Bazaar, as Kapa Soldiers with loaded weapons took their positions, and several heavy machine guns and laser guns were aimed at the entrance of the military region. Still, no one was firing.
"What's going on? Fight back, don't let those sons of bitches get the better of us." The soldiers arriving later charged toward the entrance as well, stopping in their tracks upon reaching it.
Short and not as tall as the burly soldiers, Number Zero finally arrived, squeezed through a few shoulders, and then saw the scene outside the military region.