Chapter 13
Chapter 13
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 13
Chapter Title: White Crow Unit (2)
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"Guhhh...!"
Blood was spurting out of the gaping wound in rhythmic bursts.
I stared blankly at the pistol in my hand. Thanks to the magic powering it, it had only emitted a bluish flash—no acrid gunpowder smell like on Earth. Clean as could be.
The last time I'd fired a gun was during reserve training last year. Of course, shooting a person was a first for me since I'd grown hair on my head.
"Lucas."
Daniel was looking at me with a confused expression. Strangely enough, that calmed my wildly pounding heart.
Get it together.
What's done is done.
If I didn't handle this right, we were all dead.
"...I..."
My voice came out hoarse.
"I've never killed anyone before. But I don't think I can avoid it from now on."
The White Crow Unit members' faces were all stiff. They had plenty to say, but none of them could bring themselves to say it.
I glanced down at the Ossel writhing on the floor, foaming at the mouth in agony.
"We're going to get information out of him. Who sent him, how he knew about us and tracked us down. If he refuses, we'll have to kill him to shut him up."
Click!
The menacing sound of rechambering rang in my ears, and the Ossel glared at me with bloodshot eyes.
"Anyone have objections? Speak up now if you do. Gunshots might draw reports anytime. We don't have much time."
That's when Richard, who had been standing still like a statue, let out a sigh.
"Can I treat that man first? He might not survive if we leave him like this."
"Can you do it right now?"
"I always carry my house call bag."
"Good. Just hurry it up a bit."
The members scattered to their tasks.
Richard injected the Ossel with anesthetic and prepared to extract the bullet.
Erika assisted him from the side, while Georg bound the Ossel's wrists tightly just in case and went out to stand watch. Oscar was rifling through the Ossel's uniform pockets.
I let out a long sigh and sank into a chair in the corner of the room. Cold sweat beaded on my forehead and trickled down.
"What the hell are you doing? How do you plan to fix this?"
As the surgery was underway, Daniel approached and asked quietly.
"Who knows? Depends on what info that guy gives us."
"Lucas...!"
Daniel looked like he wanted to yell but clenched his teeth and held back.
"Calm down, friend. Things went south a long time ago. The moment you didn't kill me, or rather, the moment I didn't rat you out."
"What are you talking about?"
I toyed with the Ossel's pistol and looked up at him.
"When I got caught spying on you, you should've killed me. I might've been an Ossel informant. But could you do it? Did you have the guts?
I'm the same. I wanted to survive somehow. I just wanted to protect myself. So the smart move would've been to run straight to them and rat you out the second I saw you. It would've been way safer than this. But I couldn't, and here we are.
Like I said, I've never killed anyone directly. But from now on, I will. I have to be prepared to kill. Things have gone this far—I need that mindset at least."
My voice was shaking badly. My throat tightened more with each word, making it hard to continue.
"Anyway, it's all bullshit right now. We might be dead in five minutes."
"..."
Daniel shook his head, looking at me with strange eyes.
"Alright, Lucas Redan. I'll trust you. Hell, I have no choice."
I rubbed my tired eyes.
"I'll do my best. To keep you all safer. This is mostly my fault. Help me out."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ By now, the surgery was nearly done.
Richard was examining the small bullet with tweezers, holding it up to the light.
"Luckily, no major damage to bone or tissue. He'll walk like before once it heals."
"Cheap gun, crappy performance. But you seriously calling that lucky?"
Oscar muttered in disbelief, but Richard calmly began preparing the sutures.
"From a doctor's perspective, yes."
Moments later, the Ossel's leg was neatly sutured and cleaned of blood. Impressive skill, considering the dim light.
"Leave the rest to me."
An awkward atmosphere settled the moment I stepped up.
We'd just started getting familiar and feeling things out when this mess happened—natural that the initial awkwardness hadn't worn off.
A bitter regret washed over me, but no choice. Every minute counted.
We waited for the groggy, anesthetized Ossel to come to.
Luckily, no one had come running at the gunshot thanks to the remote ruin. And this Ossel bastard hadn't called for backup at headquarters. If he had, we'd have been rounded up like anchovies by now.
Truly fortunate.
But how long could that last?
What do I do? What should I do?
Anxiety surged, and I couldn't stay still. I rolled the pistol in my hand, spun it between my fingers, lost in thought.
Please, let the ones who know about us be few. Then we can do something. Kill to silence them, or negotiate...
I chewed my lip until I tasted blood. I wiped the trickling drops with my sleeve.
Tap, tap-tap.
"Guhhhh..."
As my impatience peaked and I drummed the pistol nervously...
The Ossel finally opened his eyes.
He rolled his dazed gaze around, spotted me, and frantically pawed at his inner pocket in panic.
"I've got your gun."
I smirked and prodded him. His handsome face twisted ugly.
"Why'd you save me?"
"Who knows? To test interrogation techniques I learned from you Ossels, the guy's gotta be alive first, right?"
Hiding my anxiety behind a smug tone. The Ossel started thrashing, begging for death.
"Don't defile the servant of our Great Leader!"
"Is that your name? Servant of the Great Leader? Nothing else to introduce?"
I eyed his pant leg, severed at the thigh, and pressed down on the bandaged wound.
"Gahhh!"
"That'll reopen the wound!"
Richard, dozing in the corner from exhaustion, jolted over. I reluctantly lifted my foot and squatted beside the Ossel.
"Alright, let's get started. Name and rank first."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "..."
Captain Johann Werner stared at the scene before him in disbelief, then looked off toward distant mountains.
In the pale dawn light, the doorbell had rung suddenly. Opening the door, he found his adjutant, Lieutenant Philipp Decker, standing there pale as a ghost, trembling.
One pant leg torn, thigh wrapped thickly in bandages, on the verge of collapse.
And behind him, a short man pressing a gun to his head.
The instant Johann recognized him as Lucas Redan, he grasped the situation.
Idiot. Got overeager, charged alone, and got captured.
Today, he'd assigned Philipp to tail Lucas—never expected this blunder.
Johann immediately stepped back and flung the door wide.
"Come in. Quietly."
Lucas prodded Philipp's head with the Ossel-issue pistol. Hands raised, Philipp limped inside, only to get kicked in the shin by Johann and collapse.
"Ack!"
Johann looked down at the pathetic Philipp, shut the door, and met Lucas Redan's eyes.
"What do you want?"
"Quick on the uptake, as expected."
Now the gun was aimed at Johann. The calm expression gave him a headache.
"Dragging him here, risking exposure—you must want something badly."
"For starters..."
Sweat beaded in Lucas's messy hair.
"I'd like to talk."
Johann let himself be pushed into the living room at gunpoint.
Ignoring the expensive furniture and decor, Lucas sat him on the sofa and took the opposite seat.
Gun still trained on him, of course.
"Even if you kill me, you won't escape."
Johann threw out a veiled threat, but he just grinned.
"Nah, no plans to run."
"Then you're stalling. To let your 'comrades' escape?"
"Maybe. But mainly, I have a question."
Lucas dropped the smile and stared at him.
"You started surveilling me the day after interrogating and releasing me over the theater issue. Why? If I was that suspicious, you could've just locked me up."
Johann chuckled and slowly reached out. He saw Lucas tense, finger tightening on the trigger, but casually grabbed the cigarette case from the table.
"...Hoo."
He lit one, took a drag.
Then hurled the still-flaming lighter at Lucas's face.
Thwack!
"Hot!"
A simple attack, but infallible.
Lucas dodged with surprisingly quick reflexes.
"You crazy bastard! What the hell?"
Johann lunged at him.
Crash! Bang!
Rat-a-tat!
The sofa toppled from the body slam. Lucas's scrawny frame flew through the air.
He fired mid-flight, but the bullet whizzed past Johann's face.
Johann rolled onto him, twisted his wrist, and forced the gun free.
"Gahk!"
Lucas screamed from the joint lock.
"Lieutenant Decker!"
"Sir!"
Philipp, limping over, used his belt to bind him.
"Amateur."
Johann irritably pressed the cigarette butt into Lucas's arm.
"Hiss!"
Lucas's face flushed red with pain.
"Asked why I let you go? I'll tell you. You're worthless scum, but your bloodline isn't. Royal offshoot, so I dug into your background for potential use. Thought you got out because you're hot shit? What a delusion."
"Cough, cough! M-me? Royal descendant?"
Lucas writhed, coughing violently, then asked back.
"Your line died out except you—no real use. But might not be useless. White Crow Unit, was it? Laughable small fry, but good for a month's quota."
"Ha! Serves you right, you rebel scum! Urk!"
Philipp laughed loudly, kicked Lucas with his bad leg, then yelped and collapsed.
Johann rubbed his throbbing temples.
"Lieutenant Decker, on your feet. Now."
"Sir!"
"Kuh, heuk! Hahaha!"
Then, Lucas—huddled on the floor, spitting blood—started cackling.
"Kuhuhu, a month's quota? Satisfied with that little? Hahaha!"
He convulsed with laughter for a while, then painfully turned to look up at Johann.
"Haa... I have a better idea. Wanna hear?"
"Don't play games...!"
"Hold."
Johann stopped Philipp and looked down. Eyes cold and impassive, but inwardly intrigued.
"What're you saying?"
Lucas Redan was cunning enough to bite his superior in turn. Whatever desperate scheme he cooked up in the face of death was worth hearing.
"Cough cough! Catching this little group—what credit is that? Let me fatten 'em up, season 'em, then swallow whole?"
Lucas spat dry coughs, giggling like a maniac. He struggled to rise, grinding his teeth against the floor.
"Kuh, hold the feast a bit. I'll make the White Crow Unit the ultimate—worst—secret society. It'll be delicious."
"Captain! You can't seriously believe...!"
But Philipp gaped at Johann. A satisfied, wicked smile spread across his face.
"Lieutenant Decker."
"Yes, sir!"
"Remember what I always say."
"Yes! Always look far..."
"Hahahaha!"
Lucas burst into mad laughter again.