I was Leo Kamishiro, the man known as "the caterpillar who threw himself into an old well in front of his superior and his Wifey."
Or perhaps, "Gregor Samsa, whose fatal wound was an apple thrown by his father."
Three days had passed since then. Thanks to the work of the nanomachines, my blood vessels and tissues had finally regenerated.
After coughing up the last of the clotted blood, I was discharged from the medical wing.
However, I was forced to wear a heart rate monitor on my chest for the time being.
I was placed under 24-hour surveillance by a medical team.
Apparently, there was still a risk of my heart just stopping.
On top of that, the nanomachines were monitoring the calcium levels in my blood.
It seemed they were even programmed to respond if one of my organs decided to quietly fail.
I checked my eyes in the mirror just to be sure.
Yeah, no jaundice.
My liver seemed to be holding up.
What else was there? Right, it was a bad sign if the area around my pupils stayed bloodshot.
At least the bloody urine had stopped.
I took my medication in the cottage I’d been assigned as private quarters for a high-ranking officer.
That included anti-clotting meds.
Despite the impact of falling from that height, my brain apparently hadn't suffered any swelling.
...No matter how I looked at it, that had to be gag space-time correction at work.
Still, they were monitoring me just in case.
For the time being, my diet consisted of comprehensive nutritional blocks for wounded soldiers, specially infused with nanomachines.
If my symptoms worsened, I’d be demoted to jelly or oral rehydration solutions. If I couldn't eat those, it would be back to the IV drip.
For now, my status was essentially "I might die, but I'm doing fine."
There were soldiers posted at the entrance to keep an eye on me.
Their job was to make sure I didn't go wandering off to play while I was still unstable.
They were also there as emergency personnel to carry me if I suddenly collapsed.
Wifey and the others dropped by whenever they found a spare moment.
The Fairy had taken up residence in my augmented reality, keeping her own watch over me.
This time, I had come perilously close to reaching the most mundane ending possible: death by falling.
It was a plain way to go, but a very convincing cause of death.
I might have been reaching the absolute limit of my abilities.
As for the comrades who had witnessed my fight, their reaction hadn't been shock so much as a weary, "Ah... it's no use... that bastard... he's actually dead this time..."
I mean, I couldn't blame them. The limbs on my machine... they’d been twisted completely backward.
The machine's head had been facing a totally wrong direction, too.
I’d considered myself lucky just to still have my human shape inside that cockpit, yet somehow I’d survived.
The new recruits who heard I was still alive were apparently genuinely creeped out.
"Are you serious? Is he actually immortal?" they’d whispered.
The bunch from the Officer Academy just said, "He did it again, that idiot!!!" but the people who didn't know me were panicking, wondering, "Is this a war you can't win unless you go that far!?"
Rest assured... getting horribly injured was just part of my job description.
While I was busy acting composed, Eddie went and released an official announcement from Wifey’s ship.
[This is an extermination war with the very fate of the human species and the Zork at stake. Victory cannot be seized with half-hearted sentiments! Major Leo Kamishiro understands this better than anyone, and he has offered up his own body as a shield. Our days may be numbered. But if we do not fight, extinction is the only future that awaits us. My beloved Emperor does not fear death! His Majesty himself has said: 'Even if I should fall, if the people survive, then this war is a victory!' ...What magnificent resolve! But as a humble subject, I must add this: Rise, citizens! Take up arms! Fight the Zork! Protect our Empire and those you love! Follow His Majesty the Emperor and Leo Kamishiro! Long live the Galactic Empire!!!]
Eddie's role-play resolution was way too high.
I couldn't have squeezed those lines out of my brain even if someone shook me upside down.
Is it possible that Eddie... is actually a damn genius as a politician...?
In fact, the streaming special program featuring my combat footage recorded a viewership rating of 99% in its time slot. (I, meanwhile, was watching the anime that was airing at the same time.)
Between that footage and Eddie’s official announcement, volunteers were flooding in by the thousands.
The non-commissioned officers we’d been so desperately short on were finally being replenished.
Despite the excitement, I was told to stay in bed.
I was just about to die of boredom because games were also banned when the journalist big sister arrived.
"Major? Are you awake?"
"Yeah, I'm awake. Come on in."
Even so, I had strict orders not to sit up.
As I lay there, the journalist entered, flanked by several soldiers.
"Hello. I finally got permission for this."
"Does that mean I'll be released tomorrow, too?"
Kawagon, meat, I want to eat.
"It seems not yet. You're to remain under surveillance until the risk of sudden death has passed."
I slumped back.
Well, at least visitors weren't prohibited.
It was just that I was told not to use my brain, my internal organs, or my muscles.
In other words: stay in bed and do nothing.
Meeting people was allowed, but apparently, VR games were strictly off-limits!
"In that case, is it all right if I conduct an interview?"
"Yes, no problem."
And so, I underwent the interview.
But honestly, it wasn't like she was throwing any sharp or difficult questions my way.
She was a war correspondent, after all.
If she got on my bad side and was kicked out, her employer would be in deep trouble.
Besides, even if she had asked something pointed, I wouldn't have known how to answer.
I was just a trainee who’d graduated from the Officer Academy and hadn't even officially become part of the military elite yet.
Yeah, it was impossible for me to give a professional answer.
Eddie was just the outlier here.
The journalist seemed to realize that, too.
She saw me not as a general destined to lead the next generation of the military, but just as a barbarian who happened to be exceptionally strong.
That was why she asked me this:
"Aren't you afraid?"
"Her Majesty is on the front lines. I can't exactly run away, can I?"
Actually, everyone had been against Wifey being at the front.
I had been against it, too.
But Wifey had forced the issue.
I mean, she’d said, "The Zork will consider it a game clear if they defeat me. Unless I act as a decoy, the Mother will likely not show herself!"
She was the only one following RPG logic here!
But then again, both Edge and I were present.
Plus, we had Tatiana, the third Jester.
I’d also worked with Piggett to secretly devise a plan to get Wifey out if things turned sour.
Even Thomas and Cyrus had said they’d act as decoys if the absolute worst happened.
With everyone that determined, how could I possibly turn tail and run?
Not that I ever planned to.
And besides!
The war situation only got this bad because we were sitting around in the rear!
It wasn't even about logic anymore.
We were the only ones who could go out there!
If only I could explain it better...
If I just said that normally, people would probably just think I was insane.
"I've asked this before, but... how do you think this war will end?"
"Can I be honest with you?"
"Please."
"If we don't win, it's extinction. Not just for the country, but for all of humanity. Sure, there's a future where we crossbreed with the Zork, but that's a future where a handful of us live as livestock. I can only pray that we'd evolve enough to survive in drainage ditches and reproduce through parthenogenesis. That's what happens if we lose. That is the kind of enemy we are fighting."
The journalist big sister swallowed hard.
She finally seemed to grasp it instinctively.
That these were beings with whom no communication was ever going to be possible.
From that day on, the peace faction vanished entirely.
Apparently, my words had been a little too effective.
The presence of Sariel—an entity whose language might be understood, but with whom no true conversation could ever be held—had united us all.