Chapter 9
Chapter 9
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 9
Chapter Title: Reconnaissance Mission with Karin (1)
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Karin, who had received the mission from Jackson, told me to come along and immediately stood up, walking ahead.
Without any explanation, she simply led me quickly out of the camp.
Of course, I had agreed to go with her.
She'd bluntly told me, "Take off that clanking armor and leave it with the quartermaster." Ever since I'd done that and returned, she hadn't said a word.
"Karin, senior."
At my words, Karin replied in a quiet voice.
"Why, rookie? No, Martin."
"Why on earth did you bring me along? I know it's a bit rude to ask, but from what I understand, reconnaissance requires real skill. Isn't it usually only veteran mercenaries or those with years of experience who handle it?"
In head-on battles against the enemy, as Captain Dalton had said, even "meat shield" serf rookies could be somewhat useful if they knew how to hold a spear properly.
But moving in small groups, stealthily locating the enemy, gauging their numbers, morale, combat strength, and even the features of the surrounding terrain? That was no easy task.
That's why mercenary corps made a point of using scouts who had experience and the necessary skills. I was a total rookie, barely a month into mercenary life. So why me?
Karin replied in a serious tone.
"You heard what Jackson, the scouting captain, said earlier, right? That I don't get along with the other scouts."
"Yes."
"Truth is, I personally can't stand working with those guys. The moment they think I'm not looking, they make these crude gestures cupping their chests and mock me behind my back. So childish. And it's been almost a year since I've coordinated with them in this corps. One slip, and we'll just end up tripping over each other."
In both combat and scouting, multiple people had to move like a single unit, perfectly in sync, to achieve the best results.
But as Karin described, no matter how skilled they were, if they hadn't synced up in over a year...
They might as well see each other as dead weight.
She looked at me and gave a slight smile this time.
"So it's way better for me to move with you, Martin. Your skills are proven, and your head works well."
The fact that Karin—who had initially viewed me as a somewhat usable rookie burden—now recognized me as a subordinate who matched her stride after just one day made my heart pound.
But this was a reconnaissance mission. I needed to stay calm and composed.
So I tamped down my excitement.
"I see. Thanks for explaining."
"And from now on, keep your mouth shut. Use hand signals only if you have to. We're getting close to their camp."
I nodded in response.
Part of me wanted to charge straight into their camp and dig up whatever intel I could, but they weren't idiots—they'd spot us eventually, and we'd be done for. Instead, I began observing the surroundings, gathering as much information as possible.
True, we couldn't use thermal cameras or electronic gadgets like in the modern world to count heads or eavesdrop on conversations...
But we could still gauge plenty from things like the number and size of the soldiers' tents inside the camp, how many troops were moving around, and whether it was bustling or not.
"Karin, senior—this seems off. They lost the first battle, but the mood isn't bad at all."
Karin finished counting the tents and campfires, jotting them down, then replied.
"I think the same. More than ten of theirs died on you alone, including the squad leader, and plenty more got cut down. So why's it like this?"
I kept scrutinizing their camp.
Looking closer, I spotted a few mercenaries slipping out of the camp slowly—without torches.
To someone clueless, it might look like they were just heading out to relieve themselves—mercenaries hated doing that near the barracks, after all.
But who the hell goes to take a shit near their own camp at night without a torch?
"Karin, senior—check that out."
Karin looked mildly annoyed and grumbled.
"Martin, what? I'm busy counting their numbers. Can it wait?"
I pointed at the enemies.
"Don't you see those rats slinking around? Not just one or two—fuck, they've definitely got something shady planned."
Karin glanced where I pointed, her eyes lighting up.
"Not one or two—five of them? They're not off whoring like Squad Leader Pior under this moonlight... This stinks. Let's tail those bastards first."
We hung back at a distance, shadowing them silently.
Breathing carefully. Stepping on grass and weeds with care. Deadly quiet...
After about ten minutes of pursuit, unlike typical deserters, they stayed clumped together, moving as a group.
They were clearly cooking up some secret scheme—or meeting someone to screw over the White Beard Mercenary Corps.
"Karin, senior—no matter how you slice it, these guys are fishy. Shuffling around like they shit their pants... How about we grab 'em and beat some answers out?"
"No, Martin—they outnumber us by three. How about we just confirm who they're meeting?"
"Karin, senior—they don't even know we're here. You shoot from range with your bow, I crack their skulls from behind. We can take 'em easy."
People could shrug off a hard punch to the head if they saw it coming. But blindsided with no warning? Straight to the grave.
Those cockroach bastards wouldn't survive a surprise bash to the back of the skull.
"We'll leave two or three alive for questioning. Then we find out who they're meeting and what they're up to, right?"
Karin sighed, then waved her hand in approval—do what I want.
"No noise. Approach stealthily for the ambush. My arrow's the signal—charge then."
I was thrilled my plan got the green light, but failure meant we were dead meat.
As we crept closer, their voices carried over.
"Fuck, that Baron Casino prick is a real sleaze. Trying to bring in more mercenaries here? No honor, no decency—cowardly bastard..."
I wanted to eavesdrop longer on their plans, but capturing these fuckers came first.
We could wring out the details later.
Moments later, Karin's signal arrow whistled through the air, thunking into one of their scouts.
As their eyes snapped toward the arrow's path, I lunged, stabbing the throat of the one right in front of me.
To stop him from screaming. To keep them from calling reinforcements.
But the survivors bellowed at the sudden attack.
"Fuck, snakehead bastard! Shoulda stayed crawling in the dirt! Help!"
"Scouts ambushed! Somebody help!"
"You motherfucker! I'll send you all straight to hell!"
Couldn't let them keep yelling—reinforcements could show any second...
And sure enough, they yanked out their swords and charged me.
'Killing 'em would be easiest, but offing their heads now defeats the purpose.'
By the time the survivors closed in...
The lead one took an arrow to the ankle and tumbled head over heels.
I swung my blade to dodge another's attack, then flipped his momentum against him, slamming him down and slicing his ankle.
The last two got their hamstrings and calves slashed, turning them into limping wrecks. Then gags and bindings.
Karin had helped, but she couldn't hide her shock at how effortlessly I'd subdued them.
Seeing that expression on her—usually so coolly impassive—felt oddly cute, but we were still on the job.
"Karin, senior—what do we do with these? Leave one and kill the rest, or drag 'em all back?"
Karin reverted to her usual icy demeanor.
"Leave the bodies. Take the live ones."
"Got it."
We dragged the three into some nearby brush.
"Wanna live? Spill it straight. What're you rats up to, you tadpole-brained fucks?"
"Ah, fuck. Did this bitch stuff a rag in her mouth? Filthy mouth on her. Fuck, your mom's a whore who sucked off every guy around—turned your mouth into a cumrag too? Kill me if you dare, but my lips stay sealed."
That set Karin off proper. She beat the shit-talking bastard half to death.
His comrades watched him get turned into a ragdoll but still clammed up.
"Karin, senior—mind if I give the interrogation a shot? I'm confident I can make these fuckers sing."