NOVEL WEB Chapter 118: Reporting for Duty
F-Zone Management Center
"Supply Retrieval Team B12, Sergeant Brian reporting for duty!"
Brian stepped into the management center, gave a brief nod to the soldiers stationed on either side, and walked confidently to the mission assignment desk. In a clear, firm voice, he stated his identity, then placed his ID card and mission notice on the counter.
The clerk took both items, verified they matched the person standing before him, cross-checked the information in the database, and returned the ID to Brian. The notice, however, was immediately shredded under strict supervision.
Next, the clerk picked up a keychain, used the radio on his shoulder to contact someone, and walked to a large wall of small, secure lockers. He inserted the key into one of the slots, paused for a few seconds, and then used his other hand to enter a code. With a soft beep , the small compartment unlocked.
The clerk glanced up at the surveillance camera, confirming he was being recorded. Then, under full monitoring, he reached inside and pulled out a sealed envelope.
He held the sealed side of the envelope toward the camera for verification, then—still under surveillance—handed it directly to Brian on the other side of the counter.
Brian accepted the envelope with a look of complete indifference. He didn't open it immediately. Instead, he tucked it into his pocket and turned, walking calmly toward the exit.
After suffering setbacks within the quarantine zone, the Resistance Army had shifted its focus to the outside. If they couldn't control the interior for now, at least they could make life hell for any soldiers daring to leave.
At first, some resistance fighters stationed themselves just outside the quarantine zone's main gates, waiting for supply convoys to emerge.
The moment a convoy entered their range, they opened fire without hesitation—unleashing a barrage of gunfire.
They carried out several such attacks. While they did inflict some casualties on the convoys, the results were limited. The amount of wasted ammunition was no small number, and such waste was unsustainable for the still-forming Resistance Army.
As the attacks increased, the quarantine zone's military forces caught on to their intentions. They began deploying large units to conduct sweeping searches across the surrounding areas. Even though the rebels managed to hide in time, they still suffered casualties.
After this setback, the Resistance swiftly abandoned the plan and adopted a more effective strategy: waiting at the exact locations where supply teams were known to search—like hunters lying in ambush.
Due to the deep corruption within the quarantine zone, despite strict government orders against information leaks, some greedy individuals couldn't resist the temptation. After being contacted by resistance members, they began selling convoy routes and mission details for a fixed price.
At first, no one noticed anything unusual. But over time, the management center's supervisors began to suspect something was wrong.
They discovered that the disappearance and casualty rates of outbound supply teams were skyrocketing. Experienced politicians to the core, they sensed something was off. But without concrete evidence, they hesitated to report it upward. So they began a quiet investigation—gathering intel from the outside while secretly probing within the management center.
Not long after, a soldier who had narrowly escaped a resistance ambush returned and revealed the full truth.
At the same time, they uncovered proof that someone inside the management center was secretly selling classified mission data.
With both pieces of evidence confirmed, the supervisor flew into a rage. He immediately reported the severity of the situation to the upper echelons and ordered all those who had sold information to be executed for treason.
When Brian learned of this, he silently thanked his luck. He was grateful he hadn't encountered the resistance during his previous missions. Had he done so, caught off guard, he'd likely be nothing more than a pile of bones in the wasteland by now.
But the incident also brought him unexpected benefits. With so many personnel going missing, fear spread quickly. Soldiers scrambled to request transfers, desperate to be assigned elsewhere.
After all, going outside was already extremely risky. The supplies they gathered barely benefited them—most were seized by higher-ups. Now, with the threat of disappearance, it had become a thankless, life-threatening job. This caused a severe shortage of willing personnel.
This shortage opened opportunities for fresh recruits like Brian, straight out of military training. During one mission, he discovered a critical batch of rare supplies urgently needed by the zone and successfully brought them back. This achievement earned him a promotion to sergeant and command of a retrieval team.
This event served as a wake-up call for the quarantine zone government. It revealed the devastating consequences of internal corruption—soldier deaths were eroding the very foundation of their control.
That's why Brian now saw such extreme precautions: sealed envelopes, full surveillance during handover, and the rule that only the team leader knew mission details. The rest of the team wouldn't learn their task until they reached the destination.
Leaving the management center, Brian crossed the adjacent checkpoint. This area was the preparation zone for exiting the quarantine zone—home to a large fleet of vehicles and a fully stocked gas station.
It was also the base for all supply convoys. Every outbound team gathered here, waiting for final clearance before departure.
Brian headed toward the most prominent office building in the area. As he passed a service window, he saw a dense line of quarantine zone residents waiting outside. A divider forced them into a neat, winding queue. The person at the front was leaning in, handing a piece of paper through the window, likely asking about a task.
Every resident of the quarantine zone was required to participate in maintenance duties every six months. These people had come to report in. Once a task was assigned, an official would lead them to the location.
But judging by their gloomy expressions, none of them wanted to be here. Not surprising—tasks were completely random. A good assignment might earn extra supplies. A bad one could cost a life.
Brian barely glanced at them. He'd seen this scene every time he came. It was nothing new.
He entered the office building. Soldiers moved briskly through the central hall, while others waited in orderly lines at the counters. Except for the staff, everyone wore tense, battle-ready expressions.
Brian made his way to the stairwell and climbed to the second floor. Down the left corridor, he found a room marked with a B12 placard.
He opened the door. The moment he stepped in, a wave of laughter and roughhousing hit his ears. Inside, four shirtless young men—around his age—were wrestling and joking, clearly deep in the middle of a fun conversation.
Sitting apart in the corner was an older-looking man, his face heavy with unshakable worry, completely out of place among the others.
At the sound of the door opening and seeing Brian enter, they snapped to attention. Shoulders back, arms at their sides, they stood straight and shouted in unison:
"Sergeant!"
"Mmm."
Brian gave a quiet acknowledgment. He didn't scold them for their earlier behavior. After all, life inside the quarantine zone was oppressive. Moments of relaxation were rare. As long as they stayed disciplined during missions, he wouldn't interfere.
He opened his locker, removed his casual shirt, and hung it inside. Then he pulled out a data tablet and turned to face the team.
"Standard procedure, gentlemen. Let's get serious."
At that, the corners of their mouths twitched. All four instinctively turned to look at the young man standing farthest to the left.
The young man, seeing everyone staring at him, put on an expression of pure innocence. He shrugged, palms up, as if to say, What? Me?
"Pfft!"
His ridiculous act was too much. His teammates burst into laughter all at once.
Brian raised an eyebrow, stepped forward quickly, and gave the young man a light but firm tap on the head with the tablet.
"What? Getting bold now? You think my orders don't matter?"
The boy flinched, instinctively pulling his head back. Truthfully, he was a little afraid of his squad leader.
Sure, the sergeant looked harmless and easygoing—friendly, even. But only he knew the truth.
Inside the quarantine zone, the sergeant was the most approachable guy around. But the moment they stepped outside on a mission, he transformed completely. No disobedience tolerated. No mercy for infected or rebels. Like two different people.
Once, because of a tactical mistake, the sergeant had ripped into him in a furious, terrifying rant. That look—like he wanted to devour him alive—still sent chills down his spine whenever he remembered it.