It's all one flower.

1515. The White Clothes

It's a white room.

I don't know where. It's a place I don't know.

Several faces I don't know peek into this side of the line.

It is not an eye for the patient. An eye for an experimental animal.

Their mouths moved.

I can't hear you. In total silence, they talk about something within their peers, and some write it down on the whiteboard or notebook beside them.

The whiteboard was far away and I could see writing letters, but I couldn't read the contents.

There are more than ten people, all wrapped in white coats with the same defensive spells and curses embroidered in blue thread.

The demon soldier Rubel remembered the subtlety with which he shrunk to the kitten.

Looking around, it's the cage the cat seems to prefer that he lies.

... Why are you here?

I felt like a dream, but it's vivid for that. Their presence without sound is more realistic than that of Ensign Razootchik, who left the hospital room earlier.

The iron door opened next to the whiteboard.

The clothes of those who come are like those of the others, but they look familiar on their faces. But I couldn't remember where I met any acquaintances.

I have a little black object on my palm.

It's a black plastic bag with a hard mouth.

Pinch it up with your fingertips and gently lower it down to the cage.

My mouth moves, "It's dinner," and a miscellaneous demon seeps out of the bag along with a gentle smile directed at the kitten.

On the verge of touching, Rubel jumped up.

It's a private room in the Army Hospital at Topoli Base.

Wipe the jaw-borne sweat with the back of your hand and prepare your breath.

There was no such thing as a person in a dim hospital room.

At the angle of light to be given from the gap in the curtain, it was found that the sun was tilting.

The base is bounded to prevent [enemy] and cannot check on the demon asthma cannon.

[Constraint] on General Sikurus' Army Adjutant, he was forbidden to share audiovisual information with the user demon. I was told it was until the wound healed, but even blocking audiovisual sharing, the pain of the demon asthma cannon tied Rubel.

Will a unit of caretakers sent to Gardinia adore demon asthma cannons like troops in North Zakart?

... right. Apart from Gardenia, reconstruction has progressed and there have been fewer Miscellaneous Demons.

The previous generation of operators were able to feed on the ruins of the city of Zerneau, but now that there are a large number of restoration workers in and out, they cannot do that.

... When you're at peace, what's the food for the demon asthma cannon?

If you rot something, miscellaneous demons tend to gush, but sometimes demons appear on the nursery floor with rotten meat, rotten fruit, etc.

Rubel gently walked out of bed.

Having slept for days, my muscles fade and my body feels slightly heavier. From bed to window, just a few steps away.

I finally lifted my heavy arm with my mind and opened the curtain.

Army hospital courtyard.

They are surrounded by wards across the street and left and right, with no view of the outside at all. The dusk-dyed March sky was just light clouds drifting and there was no bomber machine shadow.

Artel's air base was destroyed by the Rubels.

Economically, by Internet disconnection, we are on the verge of collapse.

Still, why doesn't the Artel government try to stop the war?

During his activities in Artel territory, both the real city and the computer world felt a sense of abhorrence (sentinel) in the common man's skin. There were overflowing voices of dissatisfaction with the government, demonstrations and so on.

I could speculate that the purpose of carrying out the war was to "destroy demonic asthma cannons and destroy research materials".

But how is that in the interest of the Artelians? Is it something we should do until we let the people give up their lives, destroy their lives and risk their national luck?

Rubel didn't know.

After half a century of civil unrest, for more than thirty years the Republics of Nemoralis and Artel were non-negotiable. An untouched artel declared war and stormed the Nemoralis.

Without it, the demon asthma cannon would not have shot down the bombers and fighters of the Artel Lanista coalition, nor would it have caused the base to be destroyed and many soldiers to die.

If we did not carry out dirty information manoeuvres, such as spreading fake news in the computer world, and isolate Nemoralis in the international community, we would also not have had to disconnect the lake bottom cable or destroy the Sioux Communications Satellite Antenna Base.

Artel's casualties and economic hardship are arguably the result of his country's own invitation.

... but I don't know what the executives of the Qin Pi (Tonerico) branch party and the Nemoralis army made me study it.

Assuming that if we were to invade Artel, we would use it in a more decisive way, saying that it was a great pleasure to have the other hand first.

However, upper Nemoralis forces, including General Al Jadi, instructed the Rubels how to fight as little civilian casualties as possible.

Artel can afford to hold national and presidential elections.

There is absolutely no room for that in the Nemoralis on the other hand. The indiscriminate bombing resulted in the loss of millions of lives and the exodus of hundreds of thousands of people outside the country as refugees.

The damage on the Artel side is insignificant compared to the Nemoralis side. Still, President Poderes addressed the victim when a civilian guerrilla blew up the chapel.

In the first place, if there wasn't even a war, there wouldn't have been retaliatory terrorism.

... Why did you start the war? The people are telling us to stop, so why do we keep going?

"It's time for dinner."

A nurse came in at the same time as Knock. Run round your eyes to the patient standing by the window.

"You could have walked this far by yourself. I'm glad you recovered quickly."

The nurse supported the fluttering rubel as she turned around and laid him to bed with a familiar hand.

"Today, it's fish filled soup, would you like to try it yourself?

When the nurse confirmed the patient nodded, she set a dining table on the bed. Make him sit with his back supported.

Rubel noticed a technique that made it easy to move large patients without magic, and saw a small nurse. The white coat is embroidered with spells and curses in yarn of the same colour. Not at all like those I dreamed of.

... What about that dream?

The soup dish was placed and the key was grabbed.

The plumpness of the hand supporting the back is certainly a feeling given to Rubel himself.

I interrupted the unanswered question and devoted myself to the meal.