Chapter 5
Chapter 5
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>Translator: Lord First
>Chapter: 5
>Chapter Title: A Terrorist Attack is Inevitable on the Academy Train (3)
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*
Igorvich Station was a small, quiet country stop. It was located in a modest village that served as little more than a border checkpoint between Krasilov and Droan.
Therefore, the passengers who disembarked at this station were few. Village residents, or perhaps logistics distributors. That was about it.
Which meant.
‘Sloppy.’
The three men in the corner of the station were patently suspicious.
First, the man in the corner of the waiting room, glancing at the clock while looking at a newspaper.
He seemed to be checking the train schedule, but he wasn’t. The man had already let three trains pass.
Next, the man with his arms crossed, dozing off.
He also appeared to be passing the time normally, but that wasn't the case. Every time Ivan got up to go to the restroom or the newsstand, the man would stealthily open his eyes and watch him.
Finally, the man selling dried vegetables in the corner of the waiting room.
It was enough to make him scoff. Not only had that man not sold a single vegetable to anyone in the waiting room, but who would even buy vegetables in a deserted country station like this?
Crucially, Ivan, who came from a peasant family, could tell the condition of those vegetables. They weren't dried for long-term preservation; they were shriveled from being left out for far too long.
Ivan moved his hand under his newspaper and gripped his pistol. He checked the clock. Nine o'clock. The train carrying Princess Esidis would be arriving soon.
Well, a little confirmation was in order.
He slowly stood, folded his newspaper, and headed for the trash can. In the process, he pressed the muzzle of his gun precisely against the nape of the dozing man’s neck.
“!!”
“Quiet.”
The man, startled, tried to reach into his coat, but his body froze at the cold touch of the gun barrel.
Good. One pistol in his left breast pocket.
>The near-instantaneous reaction suggested he was trained.
“Hey, what are you doing over there!”
“Stop!”
The other two men in the waiting room shouted simultaneously as they shot to their feet.
It was ridiculous. The pistol Ivan held was hidden by the newspaper, so from a distance, it would have looked like he was just placing a hand on the man’s neck.
In other words, the three of them were a team.
But just in case, he needed one last confirmation.
He had said he didn't need support, but Elizaveta might have sent agents anyway.
“To whom do you pledge your loyalty?”
“Wha-what?”
If this man was one of Elizaveta's agents and loyal to the Krasilov royal family, he would never have questioned that sentence.
It was one of the first questions asked not only by the Annihilation Squad, but by all state-affiliated intelligence agents.
It was the equivalent of a frontline soldier shouting, ‘Halt! I’ll shoot if you move!’ The first, and possibly last, question that had to be answered, even if with a lie.
So this man was just a mercenary, working for money.
-Bang!
A bullet flew from the muzzle and severed the man’s cervical spine.
The man in Ivan’s grip collapsed without even a twitch.
“Damn it!!”
“Shoot! Shoot that bastard!!”
The vegetable seller and the newspaper reader scrambled to their feet, pulling pistols from their coats.
This meant several things.
One, they were a team.
>One, they were sloppy.
>One, they were not affiliated with the Krasilov monarchy.
And one last thing, they had never faced someone who could be classified as truly strong.
-Bang! Thwip!
The reflexively fired bullets grazed past Ivan’s shoulder and the side of his head.
>They had a good aim, suggesting they were mercenaries.
But their ignorance of ‘Sensing the Line of Fire’ suggested they were very cheap mercenaries.
By the time they readjusted their stances to fire again, Ivan was already swinging his axe at the vegetable seller,
while simultaneously aiming his pistol at the man who had been reading the newspaper.
-Swish, Bang!
“Guuuaaaargh!!”
The man whose wrists were both severed in one blow let out a terrible scream and collapsed, while the other, a bullet lodged squarely between his eyes, couldn't even manage a whimper.
Ivan approached the fallen vegetable seller, wiping the blood from his axe blade on the man's coat.
“Are you all there is?”
“Khhhk… Guk…. Where did a monster like this….”
“Monster…?”
For a moment, Ivan tilted his head, wondering if he had misheard.
>A monster? For just this?
That was a preposterous thing to say for people who were trying to antagonize Einar the Berserker.
If Einar himself had come, there wouldn't have even been a fight. That madman would have simply sliced the entire waiting room in half at once.
“This, this wasn't part of the… wasn't part of the deal…!”
He was bleeding heavily. When the ulnar and radial arteries in the wrist are severed, death is guaranteed within five minutes without proper hemostasis. With both hands gone, it would be even quicker.
The vegetable seller’s face was already pale as he shivered.
Ivan sighed and searched the man’s pockets. With no hands, he had to do it himself.
Scraps of paper, a few copper coins in a worn pouch, no identification of course, and a small panel with a strange button. The magical energy it emitted was faint. A signaling device, probably.
“You’ll die in three minutes if you don't stop the bleeding. Where are the others?”
“N-near the tracks….”
“How many?”
“Fifteen… You, you can’t do anything alone…! I-I’ll help you! S-save me! They’re all armed, an-and our leader is there too, he’s a real monster!! If you save me, I-I’ll create a diversion!!”
The vegetable seller trembled as he cried out with difficulty. He wanted to live. It was only natural. Anyone would lose their mind watching their own blood gush out in real time.
Ivan nodded. The vegetable seller’s complexion brightened noticeably.
“You were left behind to signal the ‘leader’ if any variables arose. You’re the scout team.”
“R-right! I’m useful, very useful!”
This man didn't know about ‘Sensing the Line of Fire.’ Which meant their leader was likely at the same level.
“Were you told who was on the train?”
“A-a gold transport train…! They said it was a trade shipment from Droan to Krasilov…!”
“I see.”
“Y-you’ll save me, right? I answered everything you asked! I didn't lie!!”
“No, there was a lie mixed in.”
“No! I swear there wasn’t!!!”
Ivan looked down at the man coldly.
“The part about you being useful.”
“What…?”
These men were nothing more than bandits working for pocket change. There was no information to be gained from torturing them.
If anyone, it would be their leader. At least then he might uncover a connection.
-Crunch!
Ivan stood, swinging his axe down on the man’s head.
>With a sickening crack, the man’s body went limp.
He clicked the transmitter, gauging the direction from which the magical signal sparked.
Not far.
Ivan wiped his axe blade on the man's coat and fastened it to his belt.
>The time was 9:03. If the train ran on schedule, it would arrive at this station at 10:00.
In fifty minutes, a train terror attack would occur.
>Therefore.
“Plenty of time.”
Ivan smirked and cleaned up the bodies. Five minutes was more than enough to erase the bloodstains and signs of a struggle.
After all, one of the most important parts of the Annihilation Squad’s training was eliminating all traces.
*
There was a reason for Ivan’s leisurely pace.
According to the formula of the academy genre, a train terror attack could never harm the ‘protagonist and main characters.’
When the train is attacked, the protagonist will escape unharmed with someone’s help and arrive at the academy on schedule.
Ivan never intended to stop the train terror attack in the first place.
‘This is a tutorial.’
Ivan was running through the forest. He occasionally clicked the button on the transmitter to reconfirm the signal's direction whenever the magical trace grew faint.
‘A tutorial is a stage that helps the player adapt to the game.’
That must be why they hired such sloppy bandits for a plan to ambush the ‘children of the Hero's Party.’ It was designed to get them accustomed to combat in a low-level zone.
At first, Ivan had wondered which of the Hero's Party members was the ‘protagonist.’
He soon deduced the answer.
All of them.
They were all protagonists. Every single one of the Hero's Party’s children was a protagonist.
Imagine a player creating a character for the first time in a game.
They would invariably be presented with ‘archetype’ characters. The kind with unique storylines within the world. And crucially, ‘characters with different traits or classes.’
-The Hero's daughter, Isabelle. Dual-class Magic Swordsman.
>-The Knight's son, Oskar. Knight.
>-The Mage's daughter, Elfihera. Mage.
>-The Berserker's daughter, Esidis. Presumably a dual-class Bard and Berserker.
>-The Thief's disciple, Lucia. Thief or Assassin.
When a player chooses one of these characters, they will have to resolve the ‘train terror attack’ as their tutorial.
That's why Ivan shifted his thinking in a different direction.
‘If all the characters’ tutorials share the commonality of a train terror attack, I can identify the terrorist group in advance.’
Once or twice might go unnoticed, but pulling the same stunt six times is bound to leave a trail.
Ivan sprinted through the undergrowth and clicked the transmitter again.
This time, he felt the magical signal spark from very close by.
‘I’ll leave the tutorial to the protagonists and eliminate the variables myself.’
He wouldn't stop the train terror attack. The attack itself was a ‘constant.’ If he prevented it, trouble would just erupt in another way.
In that case, it was better to identify the group behind the attack.
Then, he would find and eliminate traces of that group at the academy later.
To avoid direct confrontation, conduct espionage from the rear, and eliminate threats. That was the way of the Annihilation Squad.
*