REIWA JIGOKUHEN - Chaotic Disturbance of Reiwa Era

Chapter 90 - Duty

Los Angeles, California: Urban Area

Low, rumbling noise and the crunching sound of abraded wood echoed out from the dust and smoke. The Japanese engineering units were close at hand. Large bulldozers with powerful caterpillar tracks and roaring horsepower engines were smashing through everything from abandoned houses to barracks to burned-out houses without a care in the world.

"They're going to clear the city..."

In one of the apartments they had set up as a makeshift position, Lieutenant Burns gulped. He knew firsthand how terrifying the enemy could be. All the tanks that were supposed to be kept secret were lost in the air raid and his company was scattered. Originally a student of science and mathematics, and educated as an officer, albeit not in his day job, he was also able to calculate from this, even slightly, how overwhelming what they were facing relative to each other was.

However—Burns was unwilling to give up his military duties. Although he was from Sacramento, California must be his home. And if contact with higher headquarters was difficult, he had orders to try to resist as best he could with the forces he had available. Then he would have no choice but to fight to preserve the life, memories, and livelihood he had here and contribute to his country.

"Lieutenant, they are in trouble," Olson, a middle-aged man who had just returned from a recon mission, looked very pale.

He had no rank. Rather, only Burns and Private Clayton had military status, with the rest being civilians armed with rifles. After all, this is the current force.

"I saw old Baldwin, the stubborn one, sitting in front of his house," his voice began to tremble. "Then the dozer crushed him with impunity..."

"Then we've got to stop it right here," Burns sternly replied. Above all, morale must be kept up. "So where is the enemy? Which way are they heading?"

"Two blocks away, coming straight at us."

"Alright... get in position," Burns ordered without hesitation.

He would fire short-range shots from all over the apartment building to distract the enemy, and then use the opportunity to get close to the bulldozers and throw all the explosives he had at them. That was his strategy. He wished he had at least one bazooka, but he could think of nothing better.

"All hands in position, sir."

"Clayton, are you ready?"

"Yes, sir."

"Okay, let's take down this Modern Times Monster."

Burns was so pumped up as he talked to himself. It's a good thing he took a piss before.

The inhuman machine of destruction, the hideous embodiment of a Chaplin comedy, marched forward, pushing back what had been the city, and finally came within visual range. The ghastly dozer blades shattered walls and uprooted pillars.

Immediately after that, a series of gunshots echoed, and sparks flew from its body one after another. Since the crew did not lean out of the hatch, it was unlikely that the rifle rounds would have any direct effect. Still, they kept shooting, hoping to break the enemy soldiers' concentration. In fact, it was frightening to be fired at, even when protected by armor.

"Okay, keep going—huh?"

Burns could not believe his eyes. The enemy bulldozers were suddenly retreating. The militiamen cheered at the sight and continued to open fire in pursuit. But the enemy's reaction was surprisingly swift, and in no way an act of cowardice.

'No way...'

Immediately after the instinctive fear, the threat materialized. At the same time, Burns and his men were punted into the afterlife. Several large-caliber grenades exploded directly above them, tearing through the apartment, which was an improvised position.