"We need to teach the girls how to shoot. ASAP."
Limo said it flatly, after he and Gantsuke had finished debriefing about the squid-headed zombies and the Amun soldiers.
"Hundred percent agree," Gantsuke replied, sitting across the kitchen table with an ice pack pressed to his shoulder.
"They clearly haven't touched a gun in their entire lives," he added.
"Except the Russian one," Limo nodded toward Izzy and Molly, who were washing dishes in the back.The sound of ceramic plates clinking in the sink and the faint lemon scent of dish soap reminded him of a night long ago—when Jessica had stayed over.From behind, Molly looked almost exactly like her mother.
"Mari," Gantsuke called.
She turned as she walked into the kitchen.
"How's Meenda doing?"
"She hasn't stopped crying since she went into the room," Mari said, shaking her head. "I'm making something sweet for her. Thought it might help."
She pulled a red can of rambutan from the fridge.
"Thanks, sweetheart. For looking after her," Limo said with a smile.
He turned back to Gantsuke. "I want to start training them tonight. You up for it?"
The one-legged man shrugged, still icing his shoulder like a soldier fresh off the battlefield."No problem."
"Good."Limo grinned. He looked at the young man with both affection and admiration.
You're a good one, tiger, he thought, getting up to prep the weapons for training.
"Alright, ladies. Tonight's lesson—gun handling."
Limo stood firm in front of Molly, Mari, and Izzy, who sat on the couch like students waiting for class to begin.The drill sergeant in him—the old military discipline—came roaring back.
"Rule number one—"
He paused.
Meenda was standing at the doorway.
The other girls turned in unison.
"You look better," Limo said gently.She looked like a paper doll—thin, fragile, barely holding together.
"Come in. We were just about to start," he said with a warm smile.
Meenda looked down. Then up. Her eyes were full of guilt and shame.
"I'm sorry. I caused so much trouble," she said, wiping at the fresh tears on her cheeks.
Limo gave Gantsuke a look.
The steel-legged man stood and walked over, guiding Meenda to sit at the head of the couch.
"I'm sorry about your parents," Limo said, his voice soft, like a father talking to his daughter.
Meenda nodded, crying harder now.
"You need to learn how to use these," Izzy said."Come train with us."
"My dad was killed by zombies too," Mari added with a bright smile. "You gotta be strong, Meenda."
"I'm trying to stay alive… for my mom and my little brother," said Molly, nodding and giving Meenda a sincere look.
Their hands reached out. Touched her. Held her.
She felt it—warmth. Solidarity. Belonging.
"Thank you, all of you."Meenda looked up, wiped her eyes with her sleeve, and smiled through her tears.
"We've all got your back," Gantsuke said with a grin."Let's go shoot some dead things."
His upbeat tone pulled a soft laugh from her lips. She nodded.
For the first time in a long time, she felt… safe.
Limo clapped his hands, and everyone turned to him in sync.
"Let's start with rule number one."
He took the pistol from Gantsuke and held it up.
"Safety first, always."
He explained how the firearm worked—single fire mode, safety lock, burst fire.How to load, chamber, and aim.
The girls listened closely.
"Gantsuke."
"Yes, sir," the man said, snapping into a half-salute.
Wearing a T-shirt, cargo shorts, and flip-flops, he puffed out his chest like a parade soldier.It was ridiculous—and made the girls laugh.
Even Izzy and Meenda cracked a smile.
That made Gantsuke smile too.
Limo's mustache twitched as he tried not to laugh.
"If this were the army, I'd have you running laps until your balls were soaked," he said.
The girls burst out laughing.For a moment, it felt like there were no zombies outside.
"No laughing—get the weapons or I'll make you drop and give me a hundred," Limo barked in mock-sergeant tone.
"Roger that!"
Gantsuke threw a mock salute, then lifted his right leg like a robot in a broken military parade.His exaggerated march was so goofy, so over-the-top, it made them laugh even harder.
He was proud of that.
Mari, Meenda, and Molly stared at the M4 rifles in their hands—complete with suppressors and loaded magazines.They looked at them like ancient relics or alien technology.
Except Izzy.
To her, it was just another tool—a wrench, a hammer.
Limo ran through the safety rules again.
"Never point the muzzle at yourself or anyone who's not the enemy."
He had them repeat it three times like scouts reciting a pledge.
Then he showed them how to attach suppressors, load and eject mags, and check chambers.He let them handle the weapons for a while, getting a feel for the controls.
Once they were comfortable, he nodded to Gantsuke.
They all headed upstairs—onto the roof.