The Apocalyptic Command: A Military Isekai LitRPG

Quagmire flayed his right hand, and out of it came down the improvised explosive device. One by one it tumbled and stopped in its intended location, whilst the ghouls chasing him did not even notice its presence nor the fact that it was thrown out. Even if they did, they thought that their prey was merely desperately trying to delay them further by throwing whatever it could get its hands on.

Thus, with a quicker pace of steps, they ramped up their efforts in excitement. Their eyes glittered with desire and lust for blood, the taste of their prey, but their feelings and emotions were strong, and strong they were.

Quagmire, although running for quite a while already, it was only this time that he felt fatigue creeping up into his body. Although he could feel it earlier, it just was not interfering, but now it was becoming worse. If he does not do anything, then that would mean a possible collapse later on, and he cannot allow that.

His nerves on the forehead started to show, and sweat started to accumulate and drop onto his chin and onto the ground as he racked his mind for an answer. He was about to arrive when suddenly an inexplicable event happened, ruining all the thoughts that he had devised so far.

Multiple flying ghouls with their waists to their entire lower bodies gone were sweeping into the air, and just in the nick of time, his senses tingled, and with a quick and decisive moment, just as he was passing by a knocked-over debris of materials that was about half of his size.

He pushed down with the force of a mountain on his right foot and leapt, then reached out his right hand and grabbed onto the side of the object. Now, with the force and strength of his core muscles, he moved his lower body over the object.

Just as he was landing, his hands were now behind him. Upon landing, he rolled onto the ground and hid behind the debris. In a span of a few seconds, he arrived at a safe location in the nick of time, as a few flying ghouls or man-eaters flew in rapid succession through his earlier position.

When the man-eaters passed by him, his eyes flickered in excitement. His earlier position was the one where they passed, and now they were in his line of sight. He reached out his hand below him and grabbed his pistol, and with nimble movements, he was able to raise the pistol in a matter of seconds and let out a few shots.

The flying man-eaters had their heads blown into bits and pieces and fell from the air, and struck the ground hard. Their bodies flimsily crashed into the debris, their innards splashing all over the ground, and their blood decorating the walls and streets with crimson abstract art, as if a massacre had transpired on the side of the street.

Three flying man-eaters fell, and upon seeing their comrades shot down, the flying man-eaters and the ghouls in the surroundings of Quagmire roared in anger and frustration. The anger of the ghouls reverberated through the surroundings, and the myriads that were kept as livestock looked up in curiosity. They wanted to see what was happening, but alas, they needed to escape and free their comrades first.

Though one thing was left in their minds, and that was the man they saw earlier. They did not know what race he belonged to, but they were sure of one thing. They called him and his kind "Redcoats." What the man wore left a deep impression on them. A man who was nimble, possessed unknown technologies, and someone who seemed otherworldly—they couldn't help themselves but be curious.

Their hearts beat loudly, ever curious about the coming changes they did not know, but inside their hearts and minds they did know. Hope had finally arrived, but alas, before they could fully appreciate it, they had to escape and bring the news to the various communities of the remaining civilized world.

Something or someone was pushing them, yet they could not resist it; their empty desire to live had now begun to overflow with sacred life.

Upon seeing the flying man-eaters fall and crash through the ground, Quagmire saw an opening. His eyes lit up, his lips twirled into a smirk and then into a pleasant smile, his heartbeat that had been beating rapidly began to slow down, his dripping sweat and exhausted body started to cool down, his earlier fatigue being replaced with unimaginable energy and will.

He swiftly looked behind him and saw that the ghouls were catching up to him, and the flying man-eaters were going for another round. With lightning speed, he pushed forth his right foot, then straightened his left foot that had been bent earlier. Once he reached standing height, he dashed forward into the opening.

The debris was scattered but left an opening, which worked in his favor and advantage, thus Quagmire rapidly took the advantage and moved forward. With each step he took, additional force was exerted, and his length between steps widened, and so even if the ghouls were able to close the distance, he was able to reverse it in quite good fashion.

With the pistol in his very hands, he aimed with his right dominant hand, steps ever wide and firm. When a ghoul came to the front, he quickly shot it, and he continued on his grand adventure through the streets and paths of this damned fortress.

While he was shooting with his right hand, he distributed improvised explosive devices around, taking advantage of the spatial inventory. At the same time, he provoked the ghouls more and more, causing them to become more agitated and frustrated, using to his advantage the irrationality of emotions and intelligence.

Using every means regarding the imperfections of intelligent life to his advantage, as he ran, he smirked. His earlier anxiety disappeared, replaced by confidence.