I Became the Commander in a Trash Game Who Copies Skills-Chapter 152 : Chapter 152

Chapter 152. Plague City (2)
As a child, everyone must have imagined at least once what it would be like if the world of a game became reality.
Or perhaps they thought about what it would be like if there was a game completely identical to reality, one that perfectly implemented even the laws of physics and human interactions.
Perhaps the claims of some scientists that the world is nothing more than a well-made simulation originated from the same context?
It might be natural for scientists who see beyond what is visible to maintain a somewhat childlike aspect.
In any case, as someone who has fallen into a game world that has become actual reality, one thing I've learned for sure is that reality is reality.
Here, there are vast and detailed stories that cannot be known just from game settings seen through a monitor.
Today, I learned one more thing.
About the way Ratmen speak.
I discovered the principle that the higher the rank of a Ratman, the less they tend to chitter or stutter.
Let's just skip over the fact that about five hundred Ratmen died in the process.
“Didn't you say we were infiltrating?”
“Even the famously brilliant scientists go through numerous verifications and failures to prove a single principle.”
“Huh?”
“It was a necessary sacrifice, Siollus.”
Inside the rattling cart.
Siollus raised an eyebrow slightly.
It seemed she didn't like the fact that the Ratmen I had 'brainwashed' were slaughtering other Ratmen and breaking through checkpoints.
To be clear, the annihilation of checkpoint forces was limited to the beginning, and the frequency of 'normally' passing through checkpoints was gradually increasing.
Well, in the eyes of a perverted perfectionist spellcaster, it might not look that way.
Let's just move on.
It's not the first or second time that witch has picked a fight with someone.
But then she said something strange.
“Still, I like it. The fact that you've turned the tables and brainwashed them.”
“……?”
“We’ve one-upped them. We’re going to march into their midst, turn them all into roasted rats, and rescue His Majesty the Emperor. Since those rat bastards fiddling with ancient artifacts played with our guys, it's only fair we pay them back in kind, right?”
Siollus giggled.
Come to think of it, she did say the reason the punitive force couldn't continue their offensive was because of the Weird Priesthood's brainwashing curse.
My Ratman transport unit was actually a product of the Outer God's sacred relic and [Warrior’s Binding], not brainwashing, but…
“The priests said so. That it’s not a curse, but hypnosis. That it touches a person's mind?”
“I see.”
“It delves into the vulnerable parts of the mind and nurtures negative thoughts from the depths of one's emotions. To think there are so many weak-willed fools. They all need to step into a fiery pit at least once to come to their senses.”
“Wouldn't they burn to death before coming to their senses?”
“Then it can't be helped. It either becomes a pyre or a place of repentance! Isn't that how it is?”
“……”
The words ‘crazy bitch’ rose to my throat.
Anyway, I could roughly understand why the punitive force was bogged down.
Since it wasn't a magical curse, a person with a strong will wouldn't be affected.
For the same reason, it was difficult to heal with miracles.
A miracle that boosted morale would be effective for a short time.
But it wasn't feasible to shower the entire army with such a miracle every day.
“You said you knew Barum, right?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know? That bastard Barum was also brainwashed by the rat bastards.”
Siollus leaned her head against the cart wall.
“The reason our advances were stopped several times wasn't just because of the brainwashed soldiers. Pointing a gun at someone’s back or self-destructing the mortar they were pulling, those are things the priests can solve by casting a wide-area blessing.”
“Couldn't Barum be solved that way?”
“How would that be possible? You have to see a blessing to cast it, don't you?”
“True.”
When it came to stealth skills, no one in the Empire could match him.
He would probably be among the top few even if you counted other factions.
“He was the one who led me and Karok into a trap. He pretended to have come to his senses late and lured us in.”
“……”
“It’s pathetic. Falling for such an obvious trap.”
Siollus thumped the back of her head against the cart wall with a ‘thud’.
The half-giant Karok, who had been sleeping while drooling, woke up with a start, then furtively glanced around before falling back asleep.
Randal didn't move an inch.
“But he was the one who always had loyalty to His Majesty the Emperor on his lips more than anyone else….”
After that small murmur, the cart fell silent again.
Only the occasional sound of the crude wheels hitting a stone and rattling could be heard.
Leaning against the cart wall, I focused again.
On my clone, which had taken the form of a 'Ratman Warchief,' leading the thirteen Ratmen transporting the cart.
“Chitter, chiiik-”
I had gotten used to the chittering speech.
I had adapted a lot to the awkward vocal organs.
The massive subterranean city built beneath the Imperial Capital.
The border of the Plague City was not far off.
***
The cart carrying a half-giant, a high-level mage, a warrior from the north, and a noble, along with fourteen Ratmen, headed towards the Plague City.
This fantasy version of the Trojan Horse had two objectives.
The first was to kill the Archpriest of the Weird Priesthood, a Ratman with the long name of Rakkash Papuccino Kallas, and destroy the wide-area hypnosis artifact he possessed.
The second was to rescue the Emperor, who was isolated inside the Plague City.
Personally, I thought wiping out the Ratmen for good was a decent option, but we lacked the firepower for that.
Even with the Trojan Horse, the punitive force, and the Secret Knight Order that must be guarding the Emperor all combined, it would be difficult to face the hundreds of thousands of Ratmen.
Of course, it should be possible to strike the main facilities of the Plague City and inflict sufficient damage.
It would be enough to break their military strength and gain the upper hand in the next battle.
'If possible, find out what the 'seed of disaster' the Emperor mentioned is.'
Personally, I thought it was a direct metaphor for the Ratman legion, estimated to be over hundreds of thousands strong.
But I couldn't rule out the possibility that it was the final weapon of the Plague Priesthood.
Well, it was just a secondary objective.
Something to think about only after achieving the two goals mentioned above.
The transport was going smoothly.
Ratman slaves pulled the rattling cart, while three or four Claw Warriors escorted the cart containing the 'prey.'
“Chiiik- chitter!”
The more I practiced, the more natural the characteristic Ratman speech became, to the point where I could probably go to a 'Scum Water-Pub,' a tavern found throughout the subterranean city, and chat naturally.
In the beginning, if I passed ten checkpoints, I had to destroy eight of them, but now that ratio has dropped to one or two out of ten.
'I think I just heard four rat bastards crying. Is something wrong?'
'Chitter, ahem, no, nothing is wrong.'
'…Did you just chitter?'
'It seems I picked it up from all the chittering outside. So, what were we talking about?'
“……”
Though there was the minor side effect of it rubbing off on my main body's speech.
I walked on, rubbing my warming face with my characteristically soft rodent hands.
Suddenly, a foul smell arose.
My sense of smell had also become sensitive after transforming into a rat.
Sniffing around, it was a familiar stench.
Fur and sweat, excrement and rotten meat, the pungent aroma of mushrooms and the fishy smell of iron.
It was the Ratmen.
“Chiiik!”
The tunnel suddenly widened.
The narrow passage I had been traveling through had merged with a main tunnel.
The main tunnel extended from the subterranean city, a place similar to a modern highway.
In the narrow passages, I had rarely encountered others except at checkpoints, but now the number of visible Ratmen had increased dramatically.
“Chitter-chitter. Oh, long-long time no see!”
“Go-good to see-chiiik!”
“Chitter, a-a-are the human bastards- still?”
“Chiiik. Chitter. The priests have me-messed up all their heads-so, chitter-chitter-chitter!”
Like a car pushing its way in at a highway junction, I joined the crowd of chittering, noisy Ratmen.
I looked back.
It was a long-standing habit to check the escape route along with all other elements at the beginning of an operation.
Below the endless passage, Ratmen rippled like a gray wave.
The punitive force was probably beyond that.
The large tunnel entrances opposite the massive cavern where they were encamped were connected to main tunnels like this one.
For us, it was the passage through which reinforcements would come, and also our escape route.
After confirming the escape route, I checked our current status.
The witch, the half-giant, and the battle-maniac were all in perfect condition.
My clone's teeth and claws, my main body's sword and staff, armor and potions were all well-prepared.
The spare supplies and sacred relics in the subspace couldn't be seen with my eyes, but…
‘Tick-tock.’
'No problems here, master.'
In preparation for times like now when there were many eyes watching, I had set up a simple signal system in advance.
I had specifically made Tick-Tocky memorize the alarm signal.
Two ticks meant no problems.
One tick meant an emergency.
No ominous feelings were detected.
“Chiiik, st-stop!”
We pushed through the traffic jam and arrived at a checkpoint.
This was different from the checkpoints so far.
The main tunnel was directly connected to the subterranean city, so its defenses were also thorough.
A metal outer wall, ten meters high and over twenty meters wide, blocked the entire tunnel.
Numerous gun barrels and cannon muzzles protruded from holes in the outer wall.
“Th-there! Skinny-one! Chitter! Where are you from!”
Behind the guard Ratman, a Ratman who appeared to be the checkpoint commander stood with his arms crossed.
Beside him, several Ratmen with bombs strapped all over their bodies and wearing baggy rags sat blankly with vacant pupils.
Suicide bombers.
The kind of units the Ratmen only brought out in the late game.
And seeing their green-tinged eyes, they were definitely Plague Suicide Bombers.
It meant their technology had advanced to the point of plague bombs.
If so, then the 'seed of disaster' the Emperor spoke of was really…
“W-Warchief pulling the cart! Chitter! Wh-where are you from!”
I found myself lost in thought without realizing it.
I might make a slip of the tongue.
I needed to wet my throat.
Fortunately, a waterskin was hanging from the rat's belt I had taken and put on while transforming.
As I reached for the waterskin, the two-meter-tall checkpoint commander Ratman strode over.
I opened it as calmly as possible and took a swig.
For a moment, a disgusting taste filled my mouth.
[[Lord’s Unyielding Mind] deployed.]
[[Selective Loss of Taste] deployed.]
“Chitter! K-huk, pass!”
“……?”
“Chitter, comrade, even a Warchief had to eat the shit-gruel?”
“Pfft! Gack!”
“Looks like your food ran out on a long mission, chiiik. Here, fresh meat. It’s nutritious.”
The checkpoint commander strode over and handed me a chunk of meat.
He patted my back with a pitying look.
“Chiiik, you could have eaten the prey in the cart. I am impressed, chiiik, by your loyalty to this city.”
“……Chitter.”
I knew what shit-gruel was.
It was the most disgusting part of the Ratman lore.
But today, I would choose not to know.
'Shit-gruel. No way. Why was that on his belt in the first place? Didn't you transform into the Warchief class?'
'Well, master, the clothes you took were from a Claw Warrior. The Warchief's clothes were too tattered.'
'……Ah.'
'Kiiing…'
'Please, shut up.'
Right.
A rat's stomach was tough anyway.
I also had the [Selective Loss of Taste] trait.
So, let's not think about the excessive population growth of the Ratmen and the resulting food shortages, and the 'recycled ingredients' of the food eaten by the lower classes.
As I walked, pushing away stray thoughts, a deserted forked path appeared.
I stopped the cart.
The mission had two objectives.
It was time to split up.