It's not uncommon for units to be wiped out during expeditions. Humans don't just take losses either. When properly organized human forces clash head-on, the odds of victory are about sixty percent, I'd say.
Every time such a tragedy occurs, I somehow manage to survive alone, gaining a moment of freedom. It's one of the thrills of these expeditions.
But I can't just desert. If I don't return to the alien city within a certain period, my brain gets fried. And constantly, these annoying commands keep flooding my mind, telling me to come back. It's irritating.
This time, the journey by wagon took five days one way. I figure I can take about twenty days to return and still be safe. Abigail's collar probably has a similar time limit.
But I can get back faster than a regular Butcher. I know the rough geography of this area, and I'm skilled at reading terrain and weather. After all, I used to be a scout.
I used this free time to create a secret hideout.
It's located between Fort 88, where I was stationed, and the former Fort 89, now an alien city.
Right in the middle of the front lines. Neither side monitors it closely, so there's plenty of room to move freely. Humans can't easily deploy aircraft or satellites anymore, so these blind spots are common.
It's deep in a forest in the mountains.
The entrance is just a small crack in the rocks—nothing special.
I remove the camouflage covering it and take off the wooden planks.
Inside, there's a large hollow space, with light filtering through cracks in the ceiling. It's a cave like no other.
It's well-drained and ventilated. The interior is surprisingly dry for a cave. Outside, there's a small clearing, a water source, and plenty of wildlife nearby. It's the perfect hiding spot.
"Wow…"
Abigail stands stunned before my collection, neatly organized in the underground space.
There are various guns, ammunition, backpacks taken from humans, and even alien weapons and devices I don't understand.
Among them are tools belonging to engineers—kits and such.
*—Six, Days, Here, Insert—*
It took four days to get here. Even if we rush, we'll need at least ten days to reach the alien city. At best, we'll have six days of free time. No more than that.
"—Got it. I'll do it."
Her confident declaration makes me nod once before heading outside.
"Jevoudan? What's wrong?"
It's too much trouble to explain that I'm going to find food for you. I have to tap something every time.
And it's slow. Morse code is just slow. At least Abigail can speak now, which is a relief.
*—Yeah… I get it. I'll start by analyzing the materials here.*
I nod again and step outside.
The thought crosses my mind that she might miraculously remove her choker and escape on her own. If that happens, there's nothing I can do. She'd just be one step ahead.
Now, I'm fine eating raw meat, but Abigail can't do that.
Walking along a stream in the forest, I spot a deer drinking water in the distance. That's my target.
I'm too big to sneak up and take it down quietly.
I do have a sniper rifle back at the base, but I don't want to draw attention with the gunshot. So, I do this—
I hurl a stone and shatter the deer's skull. Nice, former sniper skills.
Using my claws as a knife, I sever the deer's neck and submerge it in the stream to drain the blood and cool the meat. My scouting experience comes in handy here too.
The wind blows, carrying the lonely rustle of fallen leaves.
When I come to this hideout, I sometimes think—
Just as Abigail says, maybe I should live peacefully here, alone with nature.
There's no stress here, and I can spend all day gazing at the sky without getting bored.
In spring and summer, all sorts of creatures and plants emerge, and I actually enjoy observing them.
In autumn, I prepare preserved food for winter, getting ready to face it head-on. When it snows, I stay warm by the fire, relaxing in my well-prepared winter quarters. Occasionally, I go hunting in the snow or catch fish under the ice. When I return, I warm my numb hands by the fire, thinking of spring's arrival.
If I live like this, I'll probably forget all the unpleasant things. Butchers are dumb, after all. That kind of life.
Sorry, but I'd have to kidnap a woman from somewhere occasionally…
But at this hideout, I've never really suffered from lust, so maybe I could live peacefully if women weren't around. I won't know until I try.
I sit quietly by the riverbank for a while, thinking these things.
I skin the deer and process its innards—so efficient. As expected of the Butcher. Leave the meat to me.
With six days to spare, maybe I'll try making jerky. Sausages… no casing, so that's out. Maybe some simple ham?
Abigail's eyes widen when she sees me return with the deer meat.
*—Did Jevoudan hunt that?*
I nod.
*Wow… the blood draining, the organ removal—so clean…*
*—BECAUSE, I'M, A, BUTCHER—*
I tap Abigail's shoulder.
She looks puzzled, then covers her mouth and bursts out laughing.
"Pfft—Ahahaha! Right, of course!"
*—IT, FITS, THE, ROLE—*
Abigail changes into clothes from the luggage taken from the aliens.
They're men's clothes, but she looks great in them, like a handsome cross-dresser. It's the first time I've seen her like this. She's really beautiful. I secretly want to rape her while she's wearing this.
*—Yeah, thanks!*
Abigail flashes a cheeky smile, spins around, and says happily.
She's already started working, examining a medal as a test.
"I think I understand this. The key will open any lock with the same pattern as this medal, or one contained within it. The medal's pattern is complex, centered around a hexagram, so it should open a lot of different locks."
That's how it works. I'm impressed.
"Jevoudan, when we get back, memorize the lock patterns throughout the facility. If the shape is included in this pattern, it'll open. My room's door… I think this key might work. I don't remember clearly, but I think it was this shape. If this medal opened your cell, this key might fit most of the locks in that facility."
Really? That's amazing.
Maybe it's the power of an elf girl. She definitely feels like the daughter of someone important.
Abigail picks up the medal, holds it above her head, and lets the light catch it.
"This is incredible… I owe her…"
Yeah, the wild-haired girl kept it hidden for me.
Seeing me nod, Abigail hesitantly asks,
*—Um, Jevoudan. Can you write? Human letters?*
Write… I've never thought about it.
"Try writing."
Abigail hands me a stick and points to the ground.
Hmm…
Scratch, scratch.
*'Ko, n, ni, chi, wa'*
"Hehe."
This is… really making my brain itch…
It feels like a rusty part of my brain is starting to move. It's creaking. But this is way faster. Maybe it's good.
Abigail's expression softens, and she places a hand on her chest.
"Hello! I'm Abigail. Formerly from Earthspin's Intel, also worked as a liaison officer, and occasionally as a spy. Now just a prisoner. I'm from Fort 74. And you?"
*'I am'*
Close call. I almost wrote that I was formerly from Fox, Fort 88, now just a Butcher.
She's trying to extract my information under the guise of an introduction. What an untrustworthy woman…
*—Jevoudan. I don't remember much else.*
It's true I can't recall my own name.
"Oh… sorry."
Abigail looks down, then quickly grabs my finger.
"Tell me more about Jevoudan?"
More talking…?
I have to filter what I can and can't tell you, so it's really exhausting for my brain…
*'Let's eat'*
"Huh? Um, okay…"
Good. I'll distract her with food.
*—Then let's talk while we eat.*
I can't escape…!