Author Notes:
UmU
Hopefully, you all will enjoy this RM chapter. And if you notice, it's written with OBOM influencing my writing style. Fingers-crossed it's A-ok, haha.
Regardless, do have a great day, everyone, and stay tune for more on either here, my Patreon, or my other stories/Discord server!
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https://www.webnovel.com/book/my-soul.-occupied-body---please-the-other-me...!_35377211308783905
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OBOM Visual Guide:
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Jankowski is jolted back to the waking world when his head accidentally dips below the water in the bathtub. Having been so long without a warm bath and weighed down by a heavy mind and a troubled heart, Jankowski has unknowingly fallen asleep in the bathroom. Fortunately for Jankowski, this bath is something he is still capable of recovering from. Nevertheless, having brushed with the possibility of drowning in shallow water, the Chairman of the Revolutionary Command Council isn't fancying a prolonged dip in the tub, not anymore. After cleaning himself, Jankowski vacates the bathroom, and the finely carved wooden furniture of his assigned room comes into view.
Were it not for the time when Polania kicked an iron plate, Jankowski would love to review and enjoy the warm, down-to-Gaia atmosphere that this private resort provided. Still, when Jankowski rests his sore body on the well-cushioned bed, he nearly drifts off once more due to its comfort. Taking a deep breath, the Chairman can't help but be reminded that the luxury of good bedding and breathable, natural aroma is a luxury that all other citizens still stranded on the wrong side of Polania dearly lack. Before escaping to the DMZ, Jankowski witnessed a great many mothers and children sleeping on the cold, damp ground, with little ventilation in the hastily expanded underground shelters.
Jankowski finds it criminal of him to enjoy such luxury while others of his people can't. But having not put up much of a fight, if any at all, against the cowardly decision to flee here, the Chairman thinks himself a chickenhearted hypocrite, more than anything. At the end of the day, Jankowski is but a human, and a foolish one at that. It takes a burning nation for Jankowski to see through the rubbish that his ambition is built atop.
KnockKnock
"Chairman, this is room service." Comes the voice behind the door. "I am told to bring you for lunchtime at the dining hall."
The words rouse Jankowski from his dazed state.
"... Give me a few minutes." The Polanian Chairman replies in a voice that is barely audible through the thick wooden door.
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Jankowski, after dressing up in a nicely tailored, albeit simple suit given to him by the staff of the private resort, is led into the largely occupied dining hall. Occupied in a sense that his fellow councilmen are now excitedly dining with the mercenaries who escorted them here. Seated at the long table, the multinational group is served by waiters and waitresses carrying trays of food and drinks. Jankowski feels a strange sense of incongruity, suddenly finding himself in a dining hall without any overt security details. Nonetheless, he shakes himself out of his mulling, taking the seat offered by a resort staff member and replying to the many greetings and pleasantries from the other councilmen and leadership figures in Garm Company.
From the bits and pieces he soon gathered without much effort at all while partaking in some light appetizers in the course meal, the Polanian Chairman infers that the reason members of Garm Company are eating here is all due to the councilmen wishing to either extend their escort contract or to employ them on a more permanent basis after reaching Turkey. Given that Garm Company managed to get them runaway Polanians past the most dangerous stretch, it is no surprise that they are trusted so much by the more well-off and cowardly members of the Revolutionary Command Council.
When Jankowski gets to the main course, which is braised fowl with some kind of sauce... The Chairman doesn't pay much attention to the taste, only focusing on the notion that the food he's eating is not something the less unfortunate Polanians will ever get to taste, come the end of the war. His mechanical movement of bringing the food into his mouth is paid no attention by anyone in the room. The others, especially the councilmen, are deeply taken by their meals and discussions. There is also wine on the table, of course, but so far, only the councilmen and Jankowski have partaken in the alcoholic liquid, while the mercenaries refuse alcohol because they still need to focus on upholding the contract they have. The Polanians look on the mercenaries more favorably due to this apparent professionalism...
Until they fall unconscious in quick succession, that is. Their faces planting well into the very plates and bowls they have been dining from.
Jankowski, with his wine glass shattered on the floor, struggles to maintain his grip on reality by using a hand to support himself on the table. Unfortunately, he is unable to resist the mounting weakness in his entire being, causing him to lose his support and even fall off his chair. As the chair clatters behind him, Jankowski raises his head with effort, trying to call for help from whoever can respond. Yet, much to his mounting dread, neither the waiters and waitresses nor the mercenaries even make an attempt to provide aid upon seeing his miserable state. By this point, only a fool will fail to understand what's going on.
It's very much a trap.
The last thing Jankowski can remember is the one called Tito stepping into the dining hall before darkness consumes him.
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"Alright. Alright... Make sure they're all down to their underpants..."
"Oh, and don't forget to check for any metallic objects..."
"... What do you mean it's unable to start?"
"Out of fuel? Then take that can in the jeep!"
Jankowski is shocked awake by that commanding shout, and by the cold that is now permeating his entire body. With a startle, Jankowski darts his eyes around, seeing the concrete surroundings and his deplorable state of nothing but underpants. Most importantly, Jankowski finds himself with his arms bound behind his back. His legs are also constrained by ropes, making any attempt at escaping impossible. To his sides, Jankowski can see other councilmen like himself are in similar bindings, albeit they're still in deep, artificially induced sleep.
The sound of a generator being started and the subsequent grinding of gears grabs Jankowski's attention like a vice as he instinctively rolls on the hard flooring to look in the direction of the sound. There, Jankowski lays his gaze on Tito and the Park Rangers controlling a large industrial grinder, turning up its power setting to the highest level. Subsequently, one of the Rangers grabs a hefty chunk of frozen meat, opens the safety gate of the grinder, and tosses the meat down a receptacle chute. The meat is then swiftly devoured, ground to nothing but fine little pieces that are then spat out of a dispenser shaft and fall into the large artificial lake below.
Jankowski can't see it, but he can very much hear the commotion that occurs from the lake below them. It's as if a great many aquatic mouths are biting and fighting for the chunks of meat. The insinuation of such is not lost on the Polanian Chairman, and Jankowski finds himself stricken with primordial fear. Yet, the Polanian man soon realizes he is unable to scream with his throat so parched and dried. This is a direct consequence of gulping down the laced drink that was served just some time ago.
Tito and his Park Rangers, after confirming that the grinder is in perfect working order, turn and walk toward the group of bound Polanians, furthering Jankowski's terror. As any normal person would do, Jankowski struggles in his bindings to no avail. It only serves to attract Tito's and his men's attention.
"Huh, we have a lively one here, and it's the Chairman himself..." Tito says before kneeling in front of Jankowski's shaking eyes. "Glad to have you with us."
Tito then turns, nodding to the Park Rangers, prompting them to move, lift one of the councilmen, and carry him to the industrial grinder. Jankowski, pale-faced and unable to do anything, closes his eyes as the sound of torn flesh and shattered bones drowns out the brief, muffled scream of pain and instinctive terror of the now bloody meat chunks. Again, a commotion breaks out down the lake below as a swarm of something fights over the freshly prepared food, heedless of whether the food used to be human or not.
"Look what you have done to yourselves..." Tito says to Jankowski as he watches the Park Rangers move and pick up another unconscious Polanian councilman. "Do you really think that pissing off all of Europe would garner no due punishment?"
When the second councilman is tossed into the grinder and the cycle repeats, Tito adds. "In my humble opinion, your disappearance is us doing the world a favor, and you all deserve this grizzly fate."
The words etch themselves onto Jankowski's turbid heart like the sharpest knives ever exist. One by one, what's left of the Polanian Revolutionary Command Council is ground down, swallowed, and digested with nary a fight. When it's his turn, and upon feeling the weightlessness of being tossed, Jankowski's last thought before his brain is crushed into bloody paste is...
Regret...
Regret...
Regret...
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I accept the mug of warm milk coffee from Agent, taking a sip from it as she gently and clearly reports to me the many happenstances that require my attention and input. Upon hearing Agent talking about the mission success from the DMZ, I interject after putting down my half-finished coffee mug on the nearby desk.
"Oh, right, how did the Park Rangers even dispose of the bodies? Surely they did not do something as unoriginal as a firing line and a shallow pit?"
The question is answered after a nod from my ever-loyal maid and spymaster, if those terms even fit her nominal status in ONI.
"Our operatives had recorded the Park Rangers using a food processing machine to directly turn the subjects of elimination into food for aquatic dinosaurs. I believe they are as dead and impossible to trace as they should be, Master. After that matter is done, the machine is also thoroughly scrapped for the appropriate reason of reaching the end of its service life. Nevertheless, I have made sure to have our operatives maintain strict oversight so that our involvement in this matter is not uncovered in any manner."
"... That's hardcore." I comment with a raised eyebrow. "And our collaborators? What are their reactions to our request this time."
"Both the newly acquired Garm Company and the one known as Tito have been very cooperative in ensuring the play reaches its unremarkable exit. The former, in particular, can be a subject of further investment and tailoring. As for the latter, as long as we keep the European Natural Reserve afloat and its citizens, researchers, and wildlife happy and that it remains a playground free of overt external influence, then Tito shall always be our best supporter in the DMZ."
"Good to know." I nod, smiling. "And Agent, I am impressed by your handiwork and the contact ONI and you have built while I am not able to personally present to provide oversight. Belka and I owe you our gratitude, as always."
Agent performs a curtsy, smiling gently at me.
"It is my duty and honor, Master."
I pick up the coffee mug once more as I enjoy the still-warm aroma.
"To the rest of the world, Jankowski and his cohorts have now disappeared after running away like cowards. With them being neither captured nor dead, Rusviets shall find it harder to justify any cause that sees it expanding Westward and into our side of the front, thus claiming the entirety of Polania..."
"The last thing I need is for the Union to pull a stunt similar to what we just did to gain claims to all Erusean colonies and whatnot."
Downing the rest of the milk coffee, I sigh in contentment, speaking softly to the ever-dutiful Agent.
"Once again, it's a perfect drink, as per usual."
Much like before, Agent replies gently.
"It is my duty and honor, Master."