Chapter 101
Chapter 101
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>Translator: Lord First
>Chapter: 101
>Chapter Title: Real Combat is Common Sense (6)
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*
-CRACK—!!
Ivan fired his pistol into the air and scanned the area before him. As expected, the students of the Hero's party did nothing but cringe in terror, not even thinking of retaliating.
If their threat detection was more developed, they would have charged the shooter before they even registered the gunshot. That was how superhumans fought.
The method to awaken one's threat detection was simple: stimulate the survival instinct while the body is enhanced with mana.
“Perhaps I should change the ammunition type after all.”
“…Sir?”
An agent serving as his assistant shooter broke out in a cold sweat and questioned him.
Ivan, being a rational man, sank into thought instead of bothering to answer.
‘Even with a first-aid kit, an injury from a live round can’t be fully healed without the help of a priest. It might be possible with a healing potion, but….’
A healing potion was not something to be used on a student.
Ivan was a man of reason who knew how to distinguish tools according to their purpose. This was a time for education through an appropriate level of trial, not a time to torture children by putting bullets in them.
“Sir…?”
“Fire at intervals of ten, fifteen, and five minutes. Don’t aim for the head. If possible, stick to areas that won’t impede their physical movement.”
Ivan gave the brief order and left his position. He needed to prepare the next phase of his plan.
Things would have been smoother if Dmitry or Pavel were here. With only field agents under the top commander, the chain of command was a mess.
Ivan let out an involuntary smirk.
He was thinking just like a commander.
He holstered his pistol, pulled out a strand of wire, and wrapped it around his wrist. Then, he took an axe in one hand and a dagger in the other before finally lifting his head.
From the beginning, he had always been closer to the side that carried out missions than the one that gave orders.
So, it was time to return to his true profession.
*
[Doubt safe places.]
The moment Elfihera leaned against the cover, she spotted the note stuck to the spot where her head had just been and immediately let out a scream.
“Kyaaaaaaah!!”
The ground behind the rock—which until a moment ago had seemed perfectly fine, even ideal for hiding—suddenly caved in.
Isabelle, who had reached out as soon as she heard the scream, barely managed to pull her to safety.
“Fortunately, they didn’t place any spears or spikes at the bottom.”
“What kind of crazy thing is that to say, Oskar?”
“I’m saying the Annihilation Squad would have.”
“I’m starting to be afraid of this country.”
Oskar glanced over the pitfall and nodded. It was a trap design that even he hadn't noticed beforehand.
What made it even more malicious was its placement on the opposite side of the gunfire. In other words, it was designed to ensure that anyone who used this rock for cover would inevitably fall in.
“Is anyone injured?”
“It hurts like hell, but thankfully, my body can still move.”
“Was everyone hit in the back?”
“My thigh, too….”
At Esidis’s words, Oskar glanced at her thigh before forcing his gaze away.
The sight was intensely stimulating, as she had been rolling on the ground so much that her flimsy clothes were caked in mud. This was especially true in Esidis’s case.
At the same time, he realized. *Hmm, a hit like that wouldn't impede her movement.*
Normally, trained marksmen aim for the stomach or chest when sniping. If they have other intentions, they might target areas that hinder movement, like the knees, shoulders, or elbows.
The head was out of the question. Without a guarantee of a clean headshot, the head was generally too small a target to aim for from a distance.
Therefore, in basic marksmanship training, the sights are always aligned with the center of the body.
But right now, no one in the party had suffered such a ‘critical’ injury.
An ordinary person might dismiss it with, ‘Ah, they’re going easy on us because it’s a training situation.’ But Oskar was an agent who had undergone professional training (up to the trainee course).
Thus, at that moment, he felt a chilling realization creep up his spine.
‘The agents’ training level is too high.’
Fundamentally, marksmanship training was something conscripts learned. Otherwise, it was treated as a liberal arts-level skill. After all, the skill of shooting was not effective against the ‘decisively strong.’
And the agents in this forest numbered at least ten, maybe even twenty.
How many personnel would be needed to control the entire mountain, predict all the trainees’ movements and routes to set up traps, and maintain surveillance 24/7 without rest?
And what were the chances that every single one of those personnel could deliver ‘a shot that avoids a critical wound without a single error’ in a long-range snipe?
‘And these aren’t even live rounds.’
The fact that they weren't live rounds didn't just lower the trainees' guard. It also put the shooters at ease.
*Ah, these aren't live rounds. Even if I make a mistake, they won't die.*
Such reassurance was bound to make a shooter's fingertips dull. Considering the number of rounds fired at them over the past 24 hours, what did it mean that every shot had precisely hit its mark without a single error?
‘It’s not like every shooter here can be one of Krasilov’s top elite agents.’
This, then, must be the hidden strength of the Krasilov Counter-Intelligence Command. Or at least a glimpse of it.
That even their lowest-ranking agents, mobilized for something as trivial as trainee instruction, could execute flawless snipes regardless of day or night, or distance.
And that they could afford to expend such high-value personnel on a mere trainee education course.
Oskar stared into the forest with a heavy gaze before turning to follow the departing group.
*
Northern sector of the operational area, a 250-meter elevation point located at the 12 o’clock position on the tactical map.
Amidst the dense summer foliage, Ivan slowly raised his head. He had heard the faint rustle of leaves brushing against each other in the distance.
When focusing his hearing to its utmost, he could distinguish a total of 42 species of wild animals by sound. It was a level anyone could reach through training, provided they understood that each animal had differences in stride, weight, center of gravity, and gait.
Therefore, the fact that he heard a sound that shared no commonalities with any of the 42 animal species meant only one thing.
In this place, cleared of all civilians and military personnel, a large bipedal entity weighing over 100 kilograms—in other words, a human or humanoid—had intruded.
‘They’re here.’
Unable to determine the opponent's audible range, Ivan held his breath and slowly rose to his feet.
There were no traps or traces in this vicinity. Placing such things would only serve to heighten the opponent's vigilance.
He had also cleared all nearby personnel due to the need to identify distant opponents by sound. This meant that identifying friend from foe was unnecessary.
Therefore, anyone who appeared before him, having crossed the restricted line where civilian entry was forbidden, was an enemy.
It was a simple matter.
The forest. Within the operational area, he was the only friendly. All other entities were presumed hostile.
It was a reconnaissance mission, same as always. And Ivan had never once failed a reconnaissance mission. Whoever the opponent was, they couldn't possibly be on the level of the elite soldiers residing in the fortress of the Seven Dragon Generals.
“Is this the right direction?”
A voice carried from the distance. Ivan silently scaled a tree trunk, focusing his senses of hearing and sight.
Between the trees, through the gaps in the dense leaves, something was thrashing about.
‘About 30 individuals. All are armed except for two.’
A smaller voice followed.
“There are no signs of humans at all. Are you sure this is the right place?”
“Are you doubting me now?”
“I have never doubted your ‘eyes.’ But… isn't this strange? You were making such a fuss this morning, saying a terrible omen had appeared!”
‘A terrible omen? A mage? The word “humans,” so they aren't human. Elves… of course not. They’re too polite for elves.’
Ivan frowned as he saw the faint glint of weaponry through the forest.
‘No metal coating. No field experience… or a race that dislikes camouflage paint.’
There were a few such races among the demons. Certain tribes specializing in close combat tended to refuse camouflage paint to show off their own brand of ‘valor.’
Naturally, most of those who made such foolish choices had gone extinct.
Soon, the figures beyond the forest drew closer. At that point, Ivan identified his opponents.
He quickly assessed their forces and then concealed himself deeper in the forest.
“HQ. This is O1.”
-O1. HQ receiving.
Ivan pressed a finger behind his ear and spoke in a low voice.
“Operation A1-2 is aborted. Situation C2 has occurred.”
-Confirmed. Situation C2. Is that correct?
“Correct. What’s the status of the field strike team?”
-Team 7 is currently deployed.
Ivan pictured the operational map in his head.
*If Team 7 is deployed, Team 3 must be on watch, and Team 5 is on break.*
“Relay to 5-1. Situation C2, Response 2.”
-Confirmed. Situation C2, Response 2. Execution time?
“In ten minutes.”
-Confirmed. Operation ‘Impart Crisis.’ Commencing at 1232 hours.
After the final confirmation, Ivan holstered his axe at his waist, took a dagger in his right hand, and extended his arm.
*
‘The protagonists need to become stronger than they are now.’
‘According to academy genre clichés, it is impossible to strengthen the protagonist through training.’
‘Therefore, the protagonists need a crisis and a trial.’
This was Ivan’s line of thought when he first formulated the plan.
If one were to take it a step further.
‘It’s common sense for enemies to attack during an academy training retreat.’
Inevitably, he had to arrive at this point. Because Ivan was a man of common sense.
And from there, thinking once more as an agent, it was as follows.
‘Assuming the attackers are not all fools, it is possible to guide them to a suitable location for an attack.’
‘If the attackers are competent enough, they can serve as excellent teaching material for the Counter-Intelligence Command agents who lack real combat experience.’
The potential adversaries one could anticipate were as follows:
The Crown Prince's faction, remnants of purged nobles, foreign rebels, and international terrorist organizations.
These were problems for the Counter-Intelligence Command agents to handle. However, in this academy genre, there was one more predictable attacking force.
A hostile faction with a long history, from the train terror incident to the surprise attack during the practical class.
Demons.
This, naturally, was a trial for the protagonist to overcome. The Counter-Intelligence Command was an intelligence agency, not a demon-slaying unit. Contrary to many people's misconceptions, the Annihilation Squad had only been deployed in an all-out war once in history.
The protagonists had to deal with the demons. However, the protagonists would be trusting the Counter-Intelligence Command agents to protect them.
And that.
“Cannot be a trial.”
A famous masterpiece from Earth contains the line: [If you have enough courage, turn your life into a trial.] To put it more simply, it meant the same as [What doesn't kill me makes me stronger!]
Ivan knew that truth was correct. His own life had been a testament to it. And a rational educator should be able to teach the lessons he learned to his trainees.
By appropriately adjusting the difficulty and controlling the situation, to meticulously arrange only ‘trials that cannot kill.’
*
“Kuhuk!!”
Isabelle drew her sword, aimed it in the direction of the sound, and took a hesitant step back.
*What new kind of fresh hell is this?*
Sadly, any image of the kind, warm, and considerate (he never was) uncle had vanished from her mind.
All that remained was a madman who lured university students on a date during their vacation, dumped them in the mountains, and then opened fire on them.
But the situation was different now.
The person who burst out of the forest with a scream was a large agent, meticulously covered in camouflage paint.
“Wh-wh-what, what? What is this? Is this also part of the training?”
“Run… run away…!”
The agent coughed up a mouthful of blood, staggered, and then collapsed.
The party was instantly thrown into chaos.
“Kyaaah! A-are you okay?!”
The moment Esidis screamed and tried to run forward, *CRACK*. A gunshot rang out, and blood spurted from the agent’s back like a fountain.
Soon, with the next gunshot, a small plume of dirt erupted at Esidis’s feet. She let out a shriek and scrambled behind cover. It was a swift maneuver that would have earned her bonus points from Ivan.
“What? What what what?! What is this!”
“L-live rounds! Everyone, get down!!”
As Oskar yelled, more gunshots followed. A groan of *kuhuk* was heard, followed by the sound of people running through the forest.
“An ambush…? Are all those agents being taken out right now?”
“I-it, it looks like it!?”
Then who’s going to protect us?
The four of them looked at each other simultaneously, then peered fearfully beyond the forest.
Under the bright summer sun, the forest had become terrifyingly silent.
*