I, the undead, save the world with the dolls

Old Popsicle numbly watched Sun Yang perform a series of miracles and magic operations. Summoning, fire, healing, what's the difference between this and a magician?

He has been forced to accept Sun Yang's identity as a magician from another world, and has also been forced to accept the fact that the girls around him who can fight are all robots.

However, the latter was easier for Old Popsicle to accept. At least these humanoids fought with Old Popsicle for a long time and beat the synths to death. At least it showed that Sun Yang and the Academy were definitely on the same side.

Besides, Ariana had been running around with him for a while, and Old Popsicle didn't find her strange. Perhaps it was because after becoming familiar with her, the sense of strangeness and fear disappeared, and he could look at things more objectively.

But the combination of a magician and a robot... is quite strange. Old Popsicle silently complained in his heart.

"Mr. Sun Yang," Old Popsicle came up to Sun Yang, "I hope you can leave Sean to me."

"You deserve it, Knight. Call me if you need support." Sun Yang agreed immediately. Sean... that guy... shouldn't be that important. He's just a college leader, not in charge of scientific research. If he dies, he dies.

If all else fails, they can simply recycle the existing technology. Rather than forcibly protecting Sean, a precious treasure, Sun Yang would rather let Old Popsicle get what he wanted.

The vanguard team took a short break after completing the mission, but Old Popsicle and the postman did not rest. Old Popsicle went around catching people and asking where Sean had gone.

After finally finding someone who could still speak, he hurried to the second floor. The postman and Ariana followed closely behind, fearing that Old Popsicle would be humiliated.

If you are defeated by force, you can rely on Ariana; if you are defeated by eloquence, you can rely on the postman. A perfect combination.

[Speaking of the postman, you've been making fewer low-IQ and low-EQ comments lately. Has anything changed you?] Ariana followed the angry Old Popsicle, who was brewing his own emotions, and chatted with the postman.

"Huh? Why are you asking that suddenly? There's no particular reason." The postman was also preparing his emotions, thinking about what to say next, but was interrupted by Ariana. "Because the bullet in my head was removed, I can no longer use this as an excuse to cover up the fact that I deliberately spoke nonsense."

So you've always known you were talking nonsense? Ariana thought back to the first time she saw the postman. He was grinning foolishly, tilting his neck, drooling, and spraying people with a water gun.

"Tactics, those are all tactics. They're all used to give the impression that I'm stupid, to lower people's guard against me." The postman replied proudly.

"I think it's hard not to be wary of someone as big as you. Also, I always felt that you seemed to be enjoying it before you were cured..." Ariana was speechless.

"It's really nice to be able to curse at someone anytime, anywhere without getting hit." The postman let out a silly laugh. "But even after getting his head healed, if he keeps jumping like that, he's sure to get hit."

"What are you laughing at?" Old Popsicle looked back in confusion.

"I was thinking of ways to insult the Holy Father, but my idea made me laugh." The postman quickly found an excuse...but this excuse was really not very good.

"Hmph... You look so relaxed that I don't feel nervous anymore." Old Popsicle smiled lightly and then climbed all the way to the second floor.

Screams and gunshots continued to be heard from all around, as the humanoids' thorough investigation was still ongoing. Old Popsicle followed the instructions, bypassing several passing humanoids dragging scientists, and made his way to the dean's living quarters deep inside the second floor.

There seemed to be no one disturbing them, and there were no signs of fighting. After walking for a while, the three of them arrived at the door of the dean's residence. There, five hunter guards, wearing uniform long fur coats, stood guard, standing in a state of dignified anticipation.

The hunters raised their heads when they noticed someone coming, as if they wanted to sound the alarm, but when they saw the postman, they just opened their mouths and said nothing.

The dark-skinned man who was the leader of the group of hunters stood up. Old Popsicle and the others still had some impression of him. This hunter was X6-88, and it was he who brought Old Popsicle here two days ago.

"You are still alive? I thought you had been burned to ashes." Old Popsicle said sarcastically.

"Oh my? Why are there a few cowards standing here? You can lick my boots clean first, and then beg us to leave," the postman said, his lips emitting anger. "Lick the soles of my shoes clean, and I might be in a good mood and spare your lives."

The hunters around felt their blood pressure soar when they heard this, and they were furious, ready to teach the postman a lesson. However, the leader, X6-88, calmly stopped his companions.

"The Holy Father is ready to see you, Mr. Knight. As for the two of you, you are not authorized to enter—" X6-88 didn't even finish his words when he was slapped in the face by a powered fist that was bigger than his face.

"Ouch!!" The metal palm carrying huge kinetic energy knocked X6-88 directly to the ground.

"I don't know why you are so arrogant. Your life and death are in my hands. Now, do you have any more nonsense to say? If not, get out of here." The old popsicle was also slightly assimilated by the postman, and he felt justified in speaking harshly.

"No more..." Before X6-88 could finish his words, the postman jumped out from behind.

"Nothing else to say? Hehehehe~" The postman laughed terrifyingly, "I told you I'm going to get my revenge."

The hunters, who had suppressed their rage to the utmost, immediately prepared to shoot the people in front of them when they heard the postman's words. However, before they could raise their weapons, the postman's revolver was aimed at the heads of all the hunters.

boom!boom!boom!boom!boom!

With five rapid gunshots, these hunters who claimed to be able to defeat an entire camp of gunmen were all shot through the head by the postman in less than half a second.

The four standing hunters leaned against the wall and fell down limply, while X6-88, who was knocked down by Old Popsicle's punch, was shot in the chest. The synth's body, which was tougher than that of humans, kept him alive.

X6-88 clutched his chest, as if trying to say something to buy time. However, his life force was slipping away, and he wouldn't last more than a few minutes.

"You are really lucky, but unfortunately, I still have one bullet." The postman shook the pistol, then pulled the trigger again at a speed that was imperceptible to the naked eye, adding a hole in X6-88's head.

"Now there is nothing that can stop us... huh..." Old Popsicle took a deep breath and pushed open the door in front of him.

The bedroom was clean. Besides the most basic necessities, there were only some flowers and plants raised indoors. Sean, Father Sean was already dressed and sitting in his chair.

In front of him was a surveillance facility. Most of the screens were black, but a small part still showed the humanoids dragging the scientist out of the chair and taking him to the square.

"Shawn, Dad is back to kill you..."

As Old Popsicle spoke, he picked up a flower pot several dozen centimeters high from the side and held it in his hand.

"I never imagined that the academy's fate, my own, would be like this," Father Sean said in a calm, yet exhausted tone. "I never imagined that from your rejection to our capture by your troops, only two days would pass."

"There's no turning back, Sean. The academy must be destroyed." Old Popsicle said coldly.

"Is this a decision you made yourself? Or was it instilled in you by those corrupt and short-sighted organizations on the ground? Tell me, what legitimate reasons do you have to justify this atrocity?" Father Sean did not turn around, but asked Old Popsicle.

"Are you serious? You have made so many enemies, it's hard to imagine why I am standing here? All the forces in the wasteland want to kill you, but you have no idea." Old Popsicle said a little astonished.

"It's hard to imagine that such a fool is my biological father. Never mind. It doesn't matter anymore. You will complete your mission and fulfill your wish—destroy humanity's greatest hope. The only question left is why you stand here. Do you regret it? Or do you gloat over it?"

Sean slowly turned around and looked at the power armor on Old Popsicle's body.

"Let me tell you, not all of your colleagues will be killed, and your technology will not be destroyed. Instead, it will be used to benefit the people on the surface." Old Popsicle explained the situation outside.

"Those scientists who haven't caused any killings can continue their research, and technology will continue to thrive. But you, Sean," the old man stared at his much older son, "you must die."

"Did I bring shame upon you? Are you ashamed of me? Are you angry because I'm your child?" Sean smiled sarcastically, "But I never considered you my father. My relatives are all in the academy. They've been broken and enslaved by your messy troops."

"But you were once my child. As a parent, you have the obligation and responsibility to discipline your children." Old Popsicle held the flowerpot in his hand and gently moved the flowers and plants inside. "Do you like growing plants? Which of these is your favorite?"

"The pot of Boston green plant in your hand." Sean looked at Old Popsicle. He already knew his fate.

"I understand. Well, it's quite heavy and the material is very hard... Believe me, it will only hurt for a moment, relax, kid... Goodbye, Sean." Old Popsicle looked at Sean in front of him.

"Go to hell, Nate." Sean cursed.

The old popsicle man took the flower pot and smashed it down fiercely, hitting Sean on the head. The heavy ceramic immediately shattered into several fragments due to the force, and the soil in the flower pot poured all over Sean's head.

Sean was knocked to the ground, his head buried in the dirt from the flowerpot. Old Popsicle turned his head and stepped on the dirt.

Click!

The sound of bones being crushed came from under Old Popsicle's feet. When the legs of the power armor were lifted up, the soles of Old Popsicle's shoes were already covered with mud soaked with blood plasma.

327 Fallout 4, Epilogue (Part )

Complex, inexplicable feelings came over me...pain, confusion, and the fear that something was cut off...a fear of severing the last connection with the old world.

I closed my eyes and saw life before all this, before the nuclear bomb fell...those past, beautiful memories were gradually covered by a thick fog.

I once returned to my home, I looked at the familiar yet unfamiliar bed, Sean's crib... I thought... I could find my family, I could deceive the passage of time, reunite my family again, and return to the way it was before.

I have dreamed countless times that Nora opened the door with Sean in her arms, and greeted me with a smile. There was already hot food in the house, and Gazhua was boiling a cup of hot coffee.

But I couldn't do any of that. All I could do was kill my child with my own hands... Nora... Will you forgive me?

This is not the world I want, but this result is also due to the choices I made...I must also accept the consequences of my choices.

My honor does not allow me to sit idly by. I cannot tolerate the leader of the butchers who wantonly slaughtered the people of Boston sitting in front of me and then walking away alive as if nothing happened.

Even though, he is my son.

That suspicious-looking Asian man seemed to be integrating the academy's technology. But I didn't have the energy to pay attention to any of that... I was tired. My body still had strength, but my soul was exhausted.

It was still reveling in the afternoon of the nuclear bomb drop in 2077, unwilling to awaken from the blues of the old world. It dragged on with the past, unwilling to abandon the beautiful dreams of the past even when exhausted and breathless.

My soul is still praying, still constantly encouraging myself... deceiving myself, as long as I try harder, hold on a little longer, as long as I find Sean, then... then... I can return to the old days...

Now, the dream is over, and I have to wake up from the memories that deceived myself.

I've made quite a few friends in this desolate Boston wasteland... and I have to thank every one of them.

If it weren't for them, I definitely wouldn't be here. If it weren't for them, I'd probably have ended my life with a bullet by now... Fortunately, I've made a few friends and shouldered some responsibilities.

For these friends and responsibilities, I also need to live, live for them... find a reason to live for myself.

Old Popsicle looked at the corpse lying on the ground, its shattered head buried in the dirt. He was silent for a while. Ariana and the postman leaned against the doorframe, occasionally glancing out.

"Let's go. There are still many things to do." Old Popsicle left without looking back.

"You just put this guy's body here? I thought you would find a place to dig a hole and bury it." The postman was quite surprised.

"I've already buried his head," Old Popsicle chuckled dully, then sighed, "I just don't want to touch him anymore."

"Oh...I see." The childless postman simply responded without any further comment.

After all, due to the harsh environment, the wastelanders can only show this kind of numbness and indifference when facing life and death. Otherwise, the pressure of life will sooner or later crush them.

Old Popsicle left the room. He never glanced back. He seemed to have completed an ordinary task, and seemed to feel only relief.

"If you want to cry, you can cry freely." The postman followed behind and said something without thinking.

"...That's really embarrassing," Old Popsicle sighed again, but still spoke slowly, "Postman, actually... before I took action again, I was thinking about whether there were other possibilities, whether there was any means I could use to redeem my child."

"That's hard to undo. Replacing surface humans with synths is something that can never be reversed." As a native West Coast wastelander, the Postman absolutely could not forgive such a thing.

"Yeah... I thought about it a lot, and I was still thinking about it on the way. But I still gave up. I can't convince people older than me. I... even find it difficult to convince myself to treat him as my child. I think it's because of this that I'm not so painful." Old Popsicle sighed as he slowly walked down the stairs.

He felt a little tired. Was it because he was finally relieved of the anxiety he had been feeling?

"My son might have died a long time ago. Maybe if I had woken up forty or fifty years earlier, before Sean's thoughts had completely solidified, I could have tried my best to win him back."

"But now, I only kill the villains who are related to me by blood... Whether it's for Nora or the people of Boston, I have to do it myself. Only in this way, only in this way, can I complete my mission..."

Old Popsicle's consciousness was a little hazy, he felt dizzy, and his consciousness seemed to be drifting away from him. His soul was lost.

"Old Popsicle? What's wrong with you?" The postman's voice was faintly heard by Old Popsicle's ears. He walked a little unsteadily.

"Me? I'm fine..." Old Popsicle replied dazedly. He leaned over and slowly slumped down against the wall. The distant lights and gunfire seemed to be growing louder, even the noise of the power armor being in operation seemed deafening.

My chest hurts, it's difficult to breathe, I feel dizzy, nauseous, and like I want to vomit.

"Hey...! What's wrong with you...! Don't sleep...! Doctor! Boss! Boss...!" The vague voice of the postman sounded from the side.

Old Popsicle felt light under his feet, as if someone strong beside him supported him. Was it the postman? Or Ariana?

The intense flashes of light and roars irritated his eyes and ears—a feeling of exhaustion crept over his body and mind.

"Let me take over..." A strange voice came from nearby.

"Can a slutty nurse like you really save people...?" The postman's questioning voice came from nearby.

"I'm a professional paramedic. My business license stacked up is taller than your gun~" said a strange voice.

The power armor was opened, and Old Popsicle felt like he was being dragged out, but he had no strength to move at all. His hands and feet could not move, as if all the strength had been drained away.

"What's wrong? What's going on?"

The Asian magician also ran over to ask.

"It's a form of neurasthenia. He's under too much mental stress and also has broken heart syndrome. It won't be a problem in the short term, but I think giving him a sedative or sleeping pill would be more helpful..."

"Well, he speaks so righteously, but in the end he still can't handle it. But it's unlucky that all these bad things have been piled on one person. Let him have a good sleep, postman, take him away..."

"Alright, old popsicle... let's go back and have a good sleep. After we get enough sleep, we can think about what's next..."

There was a slight pain in his arm, and then Old Popsicle couldn't remember anything.

***

The East Coast summer of 2282 came a little earlier than in previous years.

Old Popsicle and the postman rested for a few days in a relatively clean place in the college, eating, drinking, and doing some things between men and women.

Although Old Popsicle was able to restore his spirits, it was partly because the postman dragged Old Popsicle onto the double bed to engage in a no-rules, no-time-limit middleweight free fighting sport for men and women.

Sun Yang was not interested in finding out about this. Eavesdropping was not polite.

And he was also very pressed for time... He was so nervous that he asked the humanoids to torture all the surviving scientists and make them spit out the intelligence and information in their mouths.

My Griffin Oasis is full of talented people, so why would it be surprising if a few humanoids who can torture people appeared? Moreover, these scientists are all spineless. The extremely violent capture methods used previously have already scared many scientists out of their wits.

They would shoot people in the arm and drag them away, and if they dared to resist, they would punch them in the face, which would at least break a few teeth. To avoid being beaten, these people quickly spit out what they had in their mouths.

Furthermore, although many humanoids have worked in human society and are relatively familiar with what humans need, various oversights can still occur during their captivity.