I Have Returned, but I Cannot Lay down My Gun

The month of September, full of many events, comes to a close, and the world moves on, passing through October, through November, and heading toward winter.

The United States, and the world as a whole, are entering the first year of the pandemic, facing a terrifying silence that is incomparable to the past effects of the coronavirus.@@novelbin@@

The population of the earth, once thriving, has decreased by nearly one-fifth, and all societal norms, infrastructure, and concepts that had been built up until the outbreak of the Omega Virus have disintegrated.

The word "prosperity" was the first to be erased from the world.

The concept of the economy has also dissolved into nothingness.

The idea of currency, once circulating in hundreds of countries or internationally, has become irrelevant, and the concepts of reserve currencies built on top of that have vanished as well.

With the dead left behind, the survivors, barely remaining in the world, no longer cling to concepts like bank accounts and dollars. As the link between economy and society itself evaporated, they found themselves cast back to a near-primeval state.

Barter revived, and material goods became more important than human life. Cigarettes, antibiotics, and even a single bullet became more valuable than stacks of paper money or gold.

The technology and concepts accumulated over thousands of years collapsed in less than three months.

No one knew how to solve the problem, but some decided to abandon attempts at recovery and, instead, resolve to crush other nations.

Flames erupted in East Asia and North America, and the world, beyond even the cynic’s expectations, descended into chaos, heading straight for hell.

"The weather has gotten much colder. Has winter arrived already?"

"It seems it’s going to snow soon."

"Really? Time is flying, isn’t it…"

The heat that started with summer had already faded, and the light drizzle now made people feel chills, enough to make them shiver.

Not long ago, most people, who had suffered endless discomfort from the heat and humidity of summer, had come to realize that, at least, the heat didn’t take lives, and expressed their gratitude for the season. But it was, of course, too late.

HQ, apart from the ongoing skirmishes in the northeastern region, was on the move, ensuring that enough winter clothing could be provided to the civilians under their jurisdiction. Had it not been for the operations carried out by the Dagger Team two months earlier, those still living near Central Park and its surrounding areas would have faced an incredibly harsh winter.