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Even in {Thief} I found my pace far too slow. The corridor that came after the stairs was quite long. I saw fresh blood splattered along the walls and in some spots on the floor. Unwilling to rest for even a moment, I ran with all my might towards the sounds of the undead.

Eventually I came upon what appeared to be a mess hall. Makeshift barricades were made of broken wooden tables. I scanned the area and finally saw a live reaper butchering zombies. The towering, burly Caucasian man had auburn hair and a beard. He looked like a poster barbarian from a DnD campaign.

Upon closer inspection, I noticed that the barbarian was missing a hand, an eye, and had a bloody hole in his right thigh. However, these injuries did not stop him from assaulting the undead. Unfortunately, the zombies were attacking him from all sides, making his condition even worse.

"Reaper! Get down!" I shouted.

Hearing my words, the barbarian brought his glowing axe down on the zombies and threw himself to the ground. With him out of the way, I unleashed a rain of lead on the zombies that were still standing. Unable to react to my coordination with the Grim Reaper, the Normies and Bigfoots all had their heads riddled with bullets.

After making sure there were no more zombies, I slowly approached the barbarian. The zombies that fell with him were shot at close range, causing them to stop.

"Aira, how many enemies are left?"

[Limitless, there are still five F rank undead, they are currently near your position]

"{Draw} Medical bag."

I drew out a bag containing the healing tablets I had prepared for tonight. It also contained first aid items, but I wasn't sure if it would have helped this monster of a man. The big reaper was leaning weakly against a table. As I was about to hand him one of the {Heal} tablets, the man shook his head.

"Thanks for the assist, some stragglers ran towards my son. Can you help him?"

Bleeding, bruised, and on the verge of death, the Reaper before me smiled crookedly as he pulled a stogie from his vest. He placed it to his lips as his free hand began to search his clothing for what I assumed was a lighter.

I noticed a torch on the wall. I quickly placed the MAC-11's on a nearby table and used the torch to light the barbarian's stogie.

"Mighty kind of you. Get going, I'll be here."

Unable to find words, I grabbed my weapons and ran out of the mess hall. While I didn't know where the barbarian's friend had gone, I was able to follow the blood trails to a nearby hall. There I found the last five zombies throwing themselves into a steel door.

Wasting no time, I sent 9×19mm Parabellum rounds into the back of the zombies' heads, ending the nightmare.

[Confirmed. There are no more enemies. The defense of zone 1084-3 has been completed].

I kicked the undead corpses away from the door and knocked lightly on it.

"Reaper, I am John Smith. The coast is clear. Are you all right?" I explained.

After a few moments the steel door opened and an average looking Caucasian man stepped out. He didn't look like a civilian, but he was noticeably shaking. A large wound on his left shoulder stained his clothes red, as did an injured calf. Compared to the barbarian, however, he looked fine.

From the context alone, one could guess that this man had run away, leaving the barbarian to die. Unwilling to waste time on scum, I threw him a {Heal} tablet and turned to return to the mess hall. The coward tried to introduce himself as I walked away.

"Thank you for this! I am Scott! The one who was talking... Hey! Wait for me."

Ignoring his attempts at conversation, I began to see the nuances when it came to defense.

First, the zones had different terrain. Fortifications, even medieval ones, helped keep the undead at bay.

Second, the temperament of the hired wraiths made as much of a difference as their abilities.

Third, at the end of the day, most humans would selfishly choose to save themselves rather than die for another.

I was once again reminded of how special my girls were. Even when I told them to run away, they all accompanied me to the end. I should not expect such loyalty from the Wraiths I hire once I have a zone of my own.

"John! John!"

Scott kept trying to get my attention as we returned to the mess hall. Disgusted by his antics, I made no reply. Eventually we returned to the mess hall and I found the barbarian vomiting blood while holding his stogie. I quickly approached him and pulled out a healing tablet.

"Reaper, take this, you will die if you don't get medical attention. Or does your {Fate} have the ability to heal injuries?"

I learned from the FAQ that zombie venom turned humans into undead, but for reapers, it was just poison. Therefore, during the recruitment, zombies would only be born during the opening hours. The barbarian looked at me amusedly and started to laugh.

"Hahaha. I am fine. My {Fate} is called {LifeForce}. It grants me combat power in exchange for lifespan. I have been fighting for so long that I would probably die within a week. So this is fine.

Dying in combat was my goal. Much better than dropping dead in my sleep. Don't you agree?"

Without an answer, I simply nodded. The barbarian then gestured for Scott to come closer.

"Scott. I already told you, this is not your fault. If you had stayed here, we would have both died. You are not to blame, I ordered you to run. I apologize for being selfish, but I wanted to make sure you would survive."

"But Moses! If I had stayed, you wouldn't have had to use {Lifeforce}," Scott replied, crying bitterly.

I misunderstood what had happened. Scott was not a coward, he simply followed the barbarian's command. Would I have obeyed if I were in his place? What was more important in such situations? My will or my allies?

"Enough. Leave us for a while, I want to talk to John alone," Scott respected his words and quietly gave us some privacy.

"I only had a little more than a day John. I refuse to die anywhere but on the battlefield. Despite everything, this is all I could achieve as a Phantom. Without you, my memory would have been tarnished. Such a result is enough for me to feel satisfied."

The barbarian then forced himself to stand up as he grabbed my shoulder.

"Thank you for saving us, John Smith. I am the Phantom and defender of this zone. My name is Jack Moses. I have protected this zone for 15 years and thanks to you I can die with my pride intact."

"You are welcome Jack, to see your fight was great. You have every right to be proud," I replied.

"Hahaha, I know! Listen, can you please take care of Scott for me in the future? We're not related, but I consider him my son."

"Huh? Why me?"

"I feel it in my bones. My body is screaming at me to run away from you. You are an even tougher bastard than I am. My long years as a warrior tell me so, of that I am sure. Judging by the time it took you to clear this zone, you could not be weak. You are Formless, right?

Is that why you use firearms?"

I nodded and remained silent, unable to deny his words. Scott was a grown man. Why did I have to babysit his ass?

"That's even better, Scott over there is a good guy, he is Formless so hardly anyone wants to hire him. If it is not too much, please give him a job. He used to be in the military, so he knows about guns."

From the way he spoke and how desperate Jack was, he probably didn't have long. Thinking it wrong to deny a dying man his last request, I relented.

"I will do my best. It was an honor to fight with you, even for a little while."

Jack grinned broadly as he patted me on the back. It was only now that I noticed Scott crying over a brutalized corpse further away.

That must be the other Reaper who was injured, so he didn't make it either.

"Thank you John, can you give us a few minutes? I want to talk to my son. It shouldn't take too long."

Having no reason to refuse his request, I sheathed my weapons and left the mess hall. Although this battle was flawless from my point of view, it left a bad taste in my mouth.

The psychological burden of loss would never be lightened. Scott would have to steel his will if he wanted to continue fighting in Hellsgate. My reflection allowed me to see another side of this war. How many deaths would I witness in my quest to close Hellsgate?

"It is impossible to keep everyone alive. The greater the goal, the higher the cost. Who would I lose? Who could I save?"

At that moment, I felt the very air move. The environment, which had felt pure, suddenly felt vile, as if poison had entered my lungs. Before I could ask Aira what was going on, her explanation came the next moment.

[Limitless, the soul crystal for this zone has been unbound. I have already sent a request for a new defender.]

Unable to contain my surprise, I turned and understood what Aira meant. Jack Moses had already fallen. A bitter feeling swirled in my heart. I had thought only of my own future, but every day Reapers were sacrificed in the line of duty. They left this world with neither recognition nor reward.

Even though he had given more than a decade to the defense of this zone, how many people would remember the phantom Jack Moses?

Would Scott, who did nothing but cry, even be able to fight again? People often searched for meaning, but what meaning could be found when there was no choice?

"Was it worth it?" I asked rhetorically.

A few moments later, Scott came out carrying a body wrapped in sheets and a small bag. Contrary to my expectations, the man I thought was a coward showed no sadness or grief. His eyes burned with a single emotion.

Bloodlust. Pure, unadulterated bloodlust.

'It seems that I have greatly misjudged this man. You may rest in peace, Jack.'