Killing the Sprout (5)
62 km southeast of Branberg, Eastern Military District. 02:00 AM.
“We’ll reach the target in five minutes. Check your gear and report.”
“Squad 1, all clear.”
“Squad 2, all clear.”
“Squad 3, all clear as well.”
“Good.”
It was a pitch-black dawn with no moonlight. Five stealth helicopters sliced through the now-frigid late-autumn air at high speed. Operation Marionette. The goal was to eliminate the Revolutionary Front’s high-ranking members scattered across the Eastern Military District in a single, simultaneous strike and seize complete control of the organization.
The war between the Empire and the Titans had dragged on for over ten years. Werner had enlisted as an officer the year he turned eighteen, after the war began. The homeland was already devastated, and in the face of the Titans’ overwhelming power, the Chancellor, the revolutionaries, and the imperialists alike had no choice but to unite for survival. When the war finally ended, people had lost far more than they had imagined. It wasn’t just loved ones or material possessions. The fervent personal ideologies and convictions that once burned across the land had cooled to lukewarm indifference. Wisdom and knowledge forged from failure and experience had faded, and the elders who should have guided the young had vanished into piles of ash. The drive to pursue constant change had disappeared. The courage to call what was wrong, wrong, had been buried beneath reality.
Such change was something even the Revolutionary Front—or what remained of the revolutionary faction—could not resist. Why had the nationalists and imperialists, who once snarled at each other before the war, joined hands to crush the revolutionaries? It was because the revolutionaries possessed a cohesion stronger than any other group. They held the democratic ideals the nationalists championed, the unified nation the nationalists desired, and the stable society the imperialists sought. Of course, the Imperial Labor Party—the predecessor of the revolutionary faction—was not without its flaws, but with the entire Empire teetering, who had the luxury to care?
Yet every single person capable of properly carrying forward their will had died on the battlefield against the Titans. The average daily death toll across all fronts was roughly 2,500. Over ten years, that amounted to nearly ten million dead. Since everyone had been slaughtered equally, the revolutionary faction’s lineage had received its final death sentence alongside the war. Even if their hearts suddenly began beating again after the armistice, their arms, legs, and even their brains were already necrotic. The Revolutionary Front was one such necrotic right arm of the revolutionary faction. In that case, emergency surgery was necessary. Replace the rotten brain, arms, and legs entirely, and reorganize the revolutionary faction into a loyal “cooperative” organization under the Security Bureau.
“Director.”
At that moment, Karin’s voice came through Werner’s communicator. It was a private channel.
“Are you sure you want to entrust me with such an important operation…?”
“I already told you once. No one is more suited than a second lieutenant.”
Anticipating what she would say, Werner cut her off and dismissed her concern.
“If that’s really the case, then this is a test. Second Lieutenant Karin—a trial to determine whether you’re fit for the Security Strategic Agency.”
Although Werner Grime accompanied the operation on-site, the actual combat personnel were led by Karin Maven, commander of the security platoon. Thrust into such a heavy responsibility so suddenly, Karin could only feel bewildered. Of course, given her career and pure combat ability, it was only natural. After all, it was Werner himself who had assigned her the role of security platoon commander.
The Grim Reaper, Karin Maven. Even after she adapted to Emerald Lake Fortress with her best friend’s help, the nickname never left her. She was no longer the reaper who dragged allies to their deaths, but the reaper who drove Titans to theirs. It wasn’t that others died because of her. She had simply survived.
The orphanage had been attacked by Titans. At an age not yet sixteen, she had beaten two Titans to death with makeshift weapons. Even if they were standard infantry-sized small-class Titans, it was an absurd feat. It was the same afterward. When the training camp she entered after leaving the military protection facility was raided, she succeeded in killing Titans without even receiving proper firearms training. The same held true at the replacement depot. In a unit devastated by friendly fire and intense bombardment, she quickly withdrew from the area. That was why Werner had singled her out as a combat officer the moment he read her combat reports upon her first assignment to the Security Bureau. Even Werner Grime, the former commander of Graveyard, had heard her name in his previous life, so there was no need to elaborate on her actual standing.
The Karin Maven he met in person possessed an extraordinary innate talent for combat. She had been born to be a fighter. Werner Grime had known several such people in Graveyard as well. They might hesitate at first, but once properly supported, they shone brilliantly. Even during the test run in Branberg, she had more than pulled her weight. Werner’s eye for talent, honed through regression, remained effective even in the new environment of the Security Strategic Agency.
Yet Karin still looked visibly anxious.
“What if I fail the test…?”
“I believe in you. So you need to believe in yourself too. Don’t even entertain such thoughts.”
“…”
“I won’t accept excuses either. Finish the operation cleanly and return.”
Werner ended the transmission. Beyond the helicopter window, the view of a small village not far away began to come into sight. The cradle of revolution, the manor where future revolutionaries would grow their seeds. Revolutionary Front headquarters, commonly known as the Wasp Nest.
“Security Strategic Agency, raise your torches. It’s time to burn the nest.”
With those words, the helicopters flying alongside Werner’s broke formation simultaneously.
***
The curtain rose on Operation Marionette. The outline was simple: capture and eliminate the Revolutionary Front’s leadership entirely, then hand control over to the executive Dien had contacted. Dien Schmidt had faithfully performed his role as messenger and guide, and Werner Grime naturally rose to become a core figure in the Revolutionary Front that the Security Strategic Agency would now lead. Once appropriate carrots and rewards were promised, internal information from the Revolutionary Front began pouring in like a flood.
The Revolutionary Front’s ideology had long since faded. As the most extremist and violent faction even among the revolutionaries, they had no regard for practicality or rationality. Naturally, discontent had accumulated within. What kind of terrorist organization would recklessly attack a military headquarters during a banquet? In generous terms, it was decisive action without hesitation. In harsher terms, it was reckless bravado that ignored the consequences. Even knowing that assassinating the Eastern Army commander wouldn’t bring down the Eastern Military District, they had carried out the operation. Moreover, while the lower ranks were strictly managed through compartmentalization, the leadership all lived clustered together in a single village. The Revolutionary Front’s strategic vision was truly at a despairing level.
Thanks to that, the Security Strategic Agency’s security platoon—strike team—led by Werner successfully infiltrated the Revolutionary Front’s stronghold. Having obtained and thoroughly analyzed all information through an insider, Operation Marionette had already been half-successful before it even began.
Pew-pew-pew! Thud, crack!
As if to prove it, the Revolutionary Front headquarters was subdued in less than an hour. The winding underground passages between the village houses had already been fully mapped using the map Dien provided. Those who realized intruders had arrived and tried to flee in panic were helplessly caught in pre-planted booby traps. Of course, Werner Grime’s precise command and Karin Maven’s swift on-site reports also contributed to the operation’s success.
“Squad 1, move together to the wall where the bicycle is parked at the red-roofed house.”
“HQ, this is Squad 1 leader. Observing a small shed behind the target. The door is open about 5 cm—there may be an ambush.”
“Permission granted to use heavy weapons. You may burn it down.”
“Roger. We’ll make it flashy.”
“Squad 3, currently deployed in friendly lines of fire. Move quickly in the 320 direction.”
“Squad 2, enemy snipers and machine guns are expected to deploy in the two-story building ahead. Permission granted to use attack drones. Eliminate them preemptively and report.”
Werner even switched the helicopters from unmanned to manned control to respond to the threat of enemy anti-aircraft weapons. Remaining in the airspace above the operation area, he observed the scene directly with his own eyes and issued detailed orders to each squad. Even the security platoon members, who had been considered elite before joining the Security Strategic Agency, could only marvel at the overwhelming command that allowed no room for comparison.
“The Director is personally piloting the helicopter? While also monitoring the battle situation?”
“Insane. There’s a reason war heroes are war heroes.”
“Shh, you idiot. The Director told us not to talk about it! Get in the habit of watching your mouth even when we’re alone.”
“By the way, where did the Director go?”
“Ah… well…”
Right after the official operation concluded—
Tat-tat-tat-tat!!!
Werner lined up the surrendered individuals in several areas and mercilessly gunned them down with weapons seized from the Revolutionary Front. He couldn’t afford to leave loose ends. Moreover, using captured weapons was to fabricate evidence that a “rebellion” by some dissenting faction had occurred while the insiders colluding with the Security Strategic Agency were cleaning up the scene. It was a thorough yet ruthless act.
“Hoo.”
After dealing with the last prisoner, Werner exhaled and lit a cigarette. No matter how he looked at it, killing surrendered people was an inhumane act, but he had come too far to regret it now. He must not regret. Once he made a decision, carrying it through to the end was his creed. Even so, to avoid dirtying his subordinates’ hands, Werner alone silently accumulated the karma.
“…Director.”
Karin Maven clutched her chest and silently watched the scene.