12 The Rude Ex-Soldier

"Let's go people, this town needs the help of heroes, not losers," Mark said while giving Aroon a glance that made him feel more enraged.

<Ding! Easy there> yet the system had to interfere and stop him. <Ding! You need to maintain your cool head>

"Thanks, Cheryl," Aroon took a deep breath as he thanked the blonde with ponytail hair and black eyes.

"I'm glad you are ok," she said while gazing at him, "with no wounds I suppose."

"I… just ran and hid somewhere safe," he had to use Mark's mean words as a lie despite hating that.

After all, this was a thing his stelsel just asked him to do, lying to others and not exposing himself out.

And he simply hated doing that, yet he was too tired to object.

"Next time make sure to take me with you," she joked before pointing to his damaged building, "you are familiar with the procedures of breached places. A camp of refugees lies at the centre of the town. Just go there and make sure to stay safe."

"Thanks again," he said while watching her leave. She turned around before vanishing at the corner, gave him a deep hesitant glance before running after the group.

"This sucks man," Aroon couldn't help but mutter, "the heroes should show off their power! I should get the girl all the time."

<Ding! Who said that?>

"All the good movies said that," Aroon argued, "and besides you should let me teach them a lesson or two. They sometimes act as arrogant bastards who need some spanks on the butt to learn who is the boss here."

<Ding! You should respect them, after all, they helped in killing some monsters> the system calmly said, <Ding! Besides, you didn't get a bigger stick to hit your kin around>

"Says the one who distributes sticks to us in the first place," Aroon sneered before arriving at his room. "Oh man, everything I got from my past life is gone."

The room was in a much messier state than he left it. "Monsters must have come here and toyed with my things… that's definitely what happened."

<Ding! Or some poor thieves got here and cleaned the entire room out>

"I got nothing worthy to be stolen," Aroon paused before stopping in front of a broken closet, "not to anyone else but me at least."

He unintentionally touched his right wrist bracelet where he held the priciest thing he ever had. It was an old image, but for him, it was his world, or what it used to be.

"Sigh, I should get going to that centre and get some decent meal and good sleep," he turned his head towards the wall where his simple iron table was still inserted there.

And he knew exactly where his bed was gone.

As there was nothing to be taken, even his closet was void of any clothes, Aroon dragged his legs down the street. He then headed towards the centre of the town.

The closer he got there the more damage he spotted. "They got it hard here," he muttered.

<Ding! You did a great job saving them>

"But no one else knows about this but me," Aroon returned to complain, "You should let me show off now and then."

Despite him talking in the open like he went crazy, no one cared about what he was doing. After all, what happened here was enough to drive many people mad.

The system ignored him before he reached the front gate. The place was devastated and got to the ground.

Aroon recalled the presence of many grand buildings here. Towers with over twenty floors were spread all over the place. Besides, there was a grand mall he loved to come and walk through from time to time.

He felt a strange tranquillity walking around. He used to stroll there whether he was in a bad mood or had hard to sleep nights.

All was gone! Nothing was left except for a wall made out of closely packed barbed wire and some primitive defensive towers and a metallic small gate.

"Your name and identity please," one guard asked in a harsh tone as if he was the true protector and saviour of the town.

"Aroon, identity number is 544788554," yet he complied as he knew how poor these men were.

Before the invasion, they were the rulers of this world. Being military, police, or even the court judges; all lost their value the moment the war of survival kicked on the doors of earth.

"The loser fallen?" the man sneered, "c'mon, go inside and hide with elders, kids, and women. I believe the other fallens will do a brilliant job and keep you safe."

"Says the one who ran and hid like a rat when the monsters came," Aroon could accept some harsh words from the other fallens, but not from such a man.

With these mean words, all the sympathy he had before towards him vaporized like it was never there.

"What did you just say?" The man's eyes narrowed, and he even took a couple of steps forward to stand before him. "I dare you to repeat what you said just now."

"Humph," Aroon simply slapped the man on the chest. He didn't use any power at all but his simple wave of hand made the man fly in the air for a couple of meters before violently hitting the closed gate and bouncing heavily on the ground.

"Click!"

"Click!"

"Click!"

And the next moment all the other soldiers here raised their weapons in response.

"Just open the gate," a shout came all of sudden from one direction, "we have enough fight for one day."

Aroon turned to see the captain of this force. He was famous in the town for being a kind man, and he never had any bad memories about him.

"Creak!"

The gate opened while the soldiers didn't drop their weapons.

"What are you doing? Go and amend him now," the captain shouted while appearing in between the ex-soldiers with his slightly overweight body.

He was wearing a military suit like other ex-soldiers, an old antique from a glorious past. They couldn't get over their past as many did.

Compared to other ex-soldiers here who had simple guns, that slightly off weight captain had a short modified cannon hanging over his shoulders.

Aroon heard once before about such cannons. They were made as a pathetic mimicry of one of the grand canons of one of the strongest netcors in the world, the berserkers, the netvor of nine Chinese twins.

"Sorry for that," the captain apologized while watching his men take away the injured soldier Aroon just hit.

The soldier seemed quite unwell, with his face turning ashen white. "No need," Aroon smiled as he felt some satisfaction in venting out some anger on one of the bastards he hated.

But he also knew this town was brimming with such morons.

"Did you get the number of your tent?" the captain asked in a strange respectful manner. "The tent number zero is free, you can take it," he added when his question was met with a heavy silent gaze from Aroon.

"Thanks," Aroon patted his shoulder and the captain felt like being hit by a bulldozer at this moment.

Aroon ignored the change in the captain's face while moving deep inside the camp.

<Ding! You should learn to control your power better>

"At least I tried," Aroon shrugged with no care, "and he was the one to start it."