While Renetta and her troops were directing the evacuation of the residents, Ethan and Zoya had already left.
"Even though they outnumber us, skill is still paramount." Ethan said.
"It's useless." Zoya responded sarcastically.
They stopped in front of an old building.
"So, what should we do? Should we still take some people or should we leave?" Zoya asked Ethan.
"Hmm, wait, I'll call him first." Ethan took out his cell phone. He dialed someone's number and connected.
"Hello, boss? So, things are a bit chaotic here..." Ethan explained what had happened.
[Just leave the area. Then head to Doasen Street. Don't leave any traces.] The person on the other end replied.
"Okay." The call ended.
Ethan raised his chin slightly, signaling for them to leave. Zoya nodded and followed Ethan.
...
In a burning building, Renetta's troops had managed to rescue several residents. Fortunately, the soldiers' protective vests had been modified to be more fire-resistant. So they were able to quickly break in and rescue the residents.
After that, the residents were directed to a safe place.
...
"How long until they arrive?!" Anser asked Luke.
"Soon." Luke replied, starting to feel pressured as he fired at the undead.
The troops were starting to be pushed back by the sheer number of undead pouring out.
"Captain!" one of the soldiers shouted. Their large vehicle had arrived.
"Everyone grab your flamethrowers!" Luke shouted to the soldiers, who were being pushed back by the zombies.
The soldiers immediately retreated to the large vehicle. They immediately readied their flamethrowers. They immediately ran forward again toward the horde of undead.
Flames began to shoot out. The undead caught in the flames began to burn to ash.
The soldiers now under pressure had the upper hand. The scorching heat of the flames filled the battle. Even though their vests were fire-resistant, the heat still penetrated their bodies.
Sweat beaded on their faces. But they didn't retreat. They continued to fire to exterminate the undead monsters.
Cracks began to appear in the black gate.
"The gate is starting to crack!! Keep shooting fire!!" The undead began to dwindle.
The personnel maintained their attack frequency. The cracks in the gate grew larger. The soldiers began shouting to boost their morale.
Finally, the gate crumbled to ashes. The grueling battle had been won by the troops.
...
That night Zidane who had returned from Silent Hill sat in his room pensive. He recalled the conversation between Zain and him that afternoon.
"Big brother Zain, I want to ask you something."
"What?"
"But before that, I beg you not to be angry."
"That depends on what you ask."
"Huh, I knew it. Okay, I'll be ready to bear your anger."
"??" Zain looked at Zidane in confusion.
Zidane took a deep breath to calm himself.
"Brother Zain, are you immortal?" Zidane asked with a serious but nervous expression.
"Ah, so that's what you wanted to ask?" Zain replied casually.
"You're not angry?" Zidane looked confused.
"You want me to be angry?"
"N-no, no." Zidane waved his hands quickly.
"It's just that asking something like that is rude?"
"Hmm, I don't know. I don't think so."
"Really?"
Zain nodded.
"Actually, you're not the first person to ask me that." Zain spoke casually.
"Has anyone else ever asked that question?" Zidane was a little surprised.
"Yes. Isn't it strange that no one has asked after seeing me all this time?"
Hearing that, Zidane's eyes widened slightly. His face seemed to say 'Oh, that's right.' Although he tried to control his expression, it was obvious.
"But wouldn't most people dare to ask?"
"Not all. Just a few."
"Ah, I see."
"I know that people who have seen me before and now have thoughts like yours. But most of them ignore it and just think maybe I'm eternally young." Zain said casually.
"Are they like that?" Zidane asked.
"No. That's impossible. They have questions like you, but they just ignore them."
Zidane didn't answer, just smiled awkwardly.
Their conversation stopped and silence enveloped them. Only the sound of the wind could be heard.
Zain extended his hand to Zidane. Zidane tilted his head slightly in confusion. He looked at Zain. Zain didn't look away staring straight at him.
"Ah!" Zidane took two sandwiches from his shirt pocket and handed one to Zain.
"How do you know?" Zidane asked.
"I have a hard time forgetting things." Zain accepted it and began eating the sandwich.
Zidane did the same. They ate together, just like seventeen years ago. After finishing his sandwich Zidane looked at Zain who still had half a sandwich in his hand.
"What's wrong?" Without looking at Zidane, Zain knew he wanted to say something.
Although Zain rarely expressed himself, every word he spoke seemed to have its own expression. People who saw him for the first time would probably think he was unfriendly and perhaps even grumpy. But he wasn't. Talking to Zain was pleasant and relaxing.
Zidane scratched the back of his head for a moment and began to speak.
"May I say something bluntly? It's a bit difficult to think of polite words."
Zain chewing his sandwich nodded.
"How long have you been alive?" Zidane asked.
"I don't know, probably quite a while." Zain replied casually.
"How did you become immortal?"
Zain stopped biting his sandwich and looked at Zidane. Zidane became a little nervous expecting Zain to get angry. But that didn't happen.
"I don't know, it just happened. But I guess calling it eternal is a bit inappropriate." The sandwich Zain was holding was gone.
Zidane was a little confused by Zain's answer.
"Why is it inappropriate?"
"You want to know?"
"Yes." Zidane nodded.
"Before that, I want to tell you something. I told you earlier that you're not the first person to ask me about this."
"Yes."
"Aren't you curious what answer I gave that person?"
"If Brother Zain wants to tell me, I'll listen." Zidane replied with a serious face.
Zain smiled faintly at him and said--
"I grabbed his collar and hit him."
"Yes?" Zidane was surprised by Zain's words.