Modern Weapon System in the Zombie Apocalypse

Chapter 116



Riku's voice faded into the cold wind sweeping over the ridge. None of them answered. They didn't need to. Suzune pulled her jacket tighter and kept her eyes on the horizon. Ichika sat cross-legged, poking the fire with a stick. Hana hugged her stuffed rabbit, blinking sleepily beside the small flame.

For the first time in months, the mountain was still. No rumble, no breathing earth beneath them. Just silence.

Riku stayed awake long after the others slept, sitting by the dying fire. He watched the smoke drift into the dark sky and listened. Every instinct told him to keep waiting—for movement, for the faint hum that always came before disaster. But the night gave him nothing back. Only calm.

Maybe the flood really had worked. Maybe the thing beneath Matsushiro was trapped for good.

When morning came, mist rolled down from the mountain, covering the valley in pale gray. Suzune was the first to wake. She poured the last of their tea leaves into a battered pot, using melted rainwater.

"Four hours' sleep," she murmured. "That's a record."

"Don't jinx it," Riku said. He scanned the valley below. The smoke from Nagano's ruins had thinned, barely visible now.

Ichika stretched and groaned. "So, commander, what's the grand plan today? Wait until it digs its way out again?"

Riku shook his head. "We check the other entrances. If the calcification spread, we'll know how long we bought."

"Bought?" she echoed. "You make it sound like time's for sale."

"It is," Suzune said simply. "We just paid in risk."

They packed before sunrise—cans of food, spare batteries, two rifles, a pistol, and Hana's stuffed rabbit tied to her backpack. The air smelled faintly of sulfur from the flooded tunnels.

By noon, they reached the first emergency exit on the map. The door was sealed solid with white crust. No movement. No sound. The walls gleamed like marble.

Suzune brushed her fingers along the edge. "It hardened fast. The minerals must've fused with the growth."

"Then it's spreading slower," Riku said.

Ichika crouched to inspect a hairline crack at the base. "Looks like it tried to push through and failed. Guess your crazy plan worked."

"Temporarily," Riku replied. "We'll confirm the rest."

They moved along the ridge, passing through overgrown paths and collapsed tunnels. At each one, they found the same thing—white walls, crystallized roots, silence.

Finally, they reached the last entrance near an old quarry. The door was half buried in rubble. Suzune pried away a stone and held her ear to the surface. "Vibration," she said. "Faint but steady."

"So it's alive," Ichika muttered.

Riku looked at the map again. "That chamber connects to the geothermal veins. It's adapting, looking for heat."

"Then we need to cut it off," Suzune said. "Collapse the main bore."

Ichika blinked. "With what? Harsh language?"

"There used to be a civil engineering depot up the road," Suzune said. "Old disaster-response equipment, maybe demolition charges."

Riku was already walking. "We'll check it."

The depot sat in a shallow valley, fenced with rusted wire. A faded sign read Civil Emergency Stockpile – Nagano Prefecture. The padlock on the gate had long since rusted through.

Inside, the air was dry and heavy with dust. Shelves lined the walls, most empty—but two steel lockers remained sealed. Ichika jammed her crowbar into the latch and twisted. Metal screeched, then snapped.

Riku's flashlight beam swept over the shelves. "Bingo."

Inside lay coiled detonation cord, boxes of blasting caps, and three compact explosive blocks wrapped in wax-paper packaging. The labels were faded, but legible.

Suzune checked one block carefully. "Composition C-4. Old, but stable."

Ichika grinned. "Well, look at that. We're one step closer to becoming terrorists."

"Demolition crew," Suzune corrected.

"Same difference."

They packed the charges into a reinforced bag, cushioned with cloth. Suzune carried the blasting caps in her vest, each separated by rubber spacers.

Before leaving, Riku paused at the doorway, staring up at the mountain. "We only get one shot at this. If it fails, we won't get another chance to set charges."

Suzune met his gaze. "Then we make sure it doesn't fail."

They reached the access shaft near dusk. It was narrow—an old maintenance passage leading directly into the collapsed section of the main bore.

Ichika frowned. "We're really doing this in the dark?"

"Dark's quieter," Riku said. "And it doesn't see like we do."

He secured the rope, tied his harness, and started down first. The air grew warmer with every meter, thick with the smell of minerals and something faintly organic. Suzune followed, her flashlight beam steady.

At twenty meters, the tunnel widened into a ledge overlooking a vast underground chamber. The walls glistened white from the mineral flood. Beneath that pale shell, veins of black twitched weakly—alive, but slow.

Suzune whispered, "It's still breathing."

"Good," Riku said. "Then it'll feel this."

They planted the first charge near the center rib where the tunnel met the main vault, then another along the upper arch. The third went higher, near a cracked ceiling joint. Suzune wired the detonators, careful and precise.

When she finished, she looked up at him. "All ready."

Riku took a final glance down at the frozen veins. "Let's end this."

They climbed back to the shaft, unrolled the det cord, and set the firing line near the surface.

Suzune counted down softly. "Three… two…"

A shrill whistle echoed from outside—Ichika's signal.

Riku tensed. "Trouble."

"Finish it!" Suzune shouted.

She touched the leads together.

The explosion roared through the mountain like thunder trapped in stone. Dust erupted from the shaft, followed by a deep, collapsing groan. The ground shook under their feet.

They scrambled out just as another tremor rolled through the hillside.

Ichika was waiting near a fallen tree, panting hard. "Two crawlers came up the ridge! I handled it, but the ground's moving again!"

Behind her, faint gray smoke rose from the tunnel mouth. Riku looked down the slope. Cracks spider-webbed across the ground as sections of earth folded in on themselves.

Then it was over. The mountain exhaled one final gust of dust and went still.

Suzune coughed, wiping grit from her face. "Chamber's gone. It collapsed."

Ichika slumped against a rock. "Please tell me that was enough."

Riku didn't answer right away. He watched the smoke fade into the sky. "If it's not, nothing will be."

Hana ran up from where she'd been hiding behind the truck. "Riku!" She threw her arms around him, shaking. "I thought you fell in!"

He ruffled her hair. "Almost did."

Suzune smirked faintly. "You always do."

They camped near the quarry that night, too exhausted to move farther. Ichika took first watch, keeping the rifle across her knees. Suzune cleaned her gear while Riku fixed a small pot of soup over the fire.

Hana sat quietly beside him, knees drawn to her chest. "Did we really kill it this time?"

Riku stirred the pot. "We buried it. That's enough for now."

Suzune sipped her tea, voice low. "If the collapse worked, the infection network's cut off from the geothermal lines. It'll suffocate."

Ichika yawned. "So, what, we're heroes now?"

"Not yet," Riku said. "There's always another tunnel."

Silence followed. It wasn't heavy like before—just tired. The kind that came after a fight you somehow survived.

By dawn, the mountain was quiet again. No tremors. No hum. Even the birds had returned, timid but real.

Suzune walked to the ridge and stared down into the misty valley. "Feels wrong seeing it peaceful."

Riku joined her. "You'll get used to it."

Behind them, Ichika fiddled with the old radio, coaxing power from the solar panel. Static filled the air, then—faintly—a voice.

"… survivors… Matsumoto lowlands… if anyone… respond…"

Ichika froze. "Riku! Got a signal!"

Suzune turned sharply. "Say that again!"

The radio hissed, the words breaking into static, but the name was clear enough. Matsumoto.

Riku stared toward the southwest, where the valley dipped into the plains. "That's two days by road."

"Could be a trap," Ichika warned.

"Could be survivors," Suzune countered.

Hana looked between them. "Are we going there?"

Riku nodded slowly. "Yeah. If there are people left, we need to find them."

He took the map from his pack and drew a line with the stub of a pencil. From the circled tunnel network, he traced southwest—toward the words Matsumoto City.

Suzune tightened her rifle strap. "We've got diesel for a day, water for two. If we coast downhill, we can make it."

Ichika grinned tiredly. "Guess the apocalypse road trip continues."

Hana climbed into the truck's middle seat, rabbit in her lap. "Do they have flowers there?"

Riku started the engine. It coughed once, then turned over. "We'll see when we get there."

As the truck rolled down the cracked road, the morning sun pushed through the mist. The mountain behind them stayed silent, no longer breathing.

For the first time in a long while, Riku let himself believe it might stay that way.

He looked ahead, toward the faint glimmer of the plains, and whispered, "This isn't over… but it's a start."


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