Chapter 11: Disgraceful Dolls

Renault bypassed the highway on his return trip. This detour was due to the bloodstains he noticed near the warehouse entrance.

Similar to Commander Griffin after leading his men to dismantle Iron Blood's facilities, Renault opted for a backroad exit, avoiding the main route through town. Presumably, this Griffin commander aimed to conceal his actions or evade detection by the townsfolk.

The commander's unfortunate fate was evident. The bloodstains along the path were proof, indicating significant blood loss exceeding safe limits. It was safe to say he was dead.

However, while Griffin was undeniably dead, the dolls who typically accompanied him was missing. There should have been two dolls under the commander's care, yet three sets of footprints led back towards town.

There hadn't been any fighting during the SF factory destruction. Aside from M1 Garand, incapacitated by a headshot from her own commander, the other two dolls should still be unharmed.

With a touch of optimism, Renault hoped to collect two intact dolls. Whether Griffin would attempt to reclaim them wasn't a concern. The joy of scavenging, for Renault, wasn't about the eventual destination of his finds but the moment you picked them up!

Renault followed the bloodstains and footprints, eventually arriving at a building on the town's outskirts.

This location wasn't far from the road he initially used; just one road separated them.

The bloodstains extended all the way to the building's main entrance. It seemed Commander Griffin, despite his injuries, had managed to reach this point.

Unfortunately, his efforts were in vain. Infected had breached the SF blockade and overrun the town days ago, altering the situation significantly.

If the previous Commander Griffin hadn't perished, his extended absence wouldn't be explainable.

Furthermore, numerous infected corpses littered the road leading into the town's deeper neighborhoods.

M1 Garand, wedged in the sidecar with the Jaeger, noticed the motorcycle stop. With her only functioning eye, she glanced at Renault, seemingly inquiring about his destination.

"Hold on a minute," Renault replied with a wave, ignoring her gaze shifting between his weapon and himself. Her gesture suggested she wanted him to bring her weapon.

"No need, it'll only be a few minutes."

As he spoke, Renault effortlessly pushed open the partially open door and entered, unconcerned about potential attacks from humans or infected.

Well, with such a large floor-to-ceiling window, the cafe's situation was readily apparent. M1 Garand's limited vision and inability to turn prevented her from observing the building's interior.

The glass door displayed a "Closed for Business" sign, while the cafe's interior furnishings were in disarray, suggesting a struggle. However, there were no signs of gunfire.

No infected appeared to have invaded the shop either.

"Hmm, are dolls so unpopular these days?" Renault muttered.

He passed through the deserted cafe and opened the backroom door, where he immediately spotted two battered dolls. One lay sprawled on the floor, its head apparently struck by a heavy object, leaving a large missing section.

The other was pinned to the wall with two steel rebars, its body riddled with beating marks.

And the hapless Commander Griffin? He was currently kneeling before the fireplace in a humiliating posture, both arms brutally removed, practically torn to shreds.

"Well, this happens quite often... Nothing out of the ordinary."

"You haven't shut down yet? Looking at the large puddle of hydraulic fluid beneath you, I thought they'd scrapped you already."

The wall-mounted doll suddenly spoke, surprising Renault. He hadn't anticipated such resilience from this individual.

"Hey, hey, the hydraulic fluid only maintains the bionic functions," the figure explained. "It doesn't affect my core body functions."

Hearing this, the doll with a bruised nose and swollen face offered a sheepish smile.

"Well, could you please take me down first?"

"You said your functions are fine. Why not climb down yourself?" Renault countered.

"Um..." she stammered, though in truth, all her body joints were battered and broken, rendering her immobile.

While she suffered external injuries, her neural core remained operational.

After lowering the wall-mounted figure, Renault knelt beside the downed Commander Griffin. Blood and flesh obscured the head, but a metallic sheen now glinted on the neck skin.

"Did this guy transform into an infected?"

"Yes, the commander transformed early the next morning after we returned."

The other doll lying on the ground had blonde hair in a double ponytail, similar to M1 Garand's were the one who answered.

Renault flipped the doll over. The doll's eyes were still flickering, likely in a similar condition to M1 Garand.

"It's not a major issue,"

"Prying open the skull for repairs should fix it."Renault assessed.

He then noticed something.

"Where are your weapons? And where's this guy's gun?"

Renault looked around, finding none of their weapons. Even the commander's holster was empty.

"Did these townspeople rob you?"

The coffee grinder on the floor and the rebar used to pin the doll didn't resemble weapons favored by the infected. Conversely, ordinary townsfolk, faced with those who lured infected to their doorstep, might resort to any weapon available, especially considering the commander's own transformation.

Whether it was the Tactical Doll he'd just unpinned or the one Renault had flipped over, both averted their gazes at his question.

Apparently...

"Disgraceful. Just retire and shut down your fire control core. Go back to flipping burgers at that green zone diner," Renault scoffed at these two embarrassments.

He picked them both up, exited the cafe, and piled them onto the motorcycle seat like cargo. When M1 Garand in the sidecar saw him approaching with the Jaeger, the one who had been feigning liveliness abruptly ceased movement and pretended to be dead.

The overloaded motorcycle wouldn't be rideable, so Renault could only push it slowly. Luckily, this location wasn't far from Griffin's stronghold.

As Renault strained under the weight of the overloaded motorcycle, pushing it back to the gates of Griffin's stronghold, M1911, perched on a table with her M30 Submachine Gun clutched in her arms, noticed the Dolls on the motorcycle. Her eyes widened, head tilted in confusion.

The question marks hovering above her head seemed to ask:

"??? What are you doing? Did you just go on a shopping spree at the SF Factory?"