Chapter 42
Chapter 42
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 42
Chapter Title: It's Not a Self-Deprecating Broadcast
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“Bring the seriously wounded to me instead of Sukka!”
“I’d rather get treated by that girl over there...”
“I’m a pretty girl too, you know? If you don’t wanna die, hurry up and come here.”
“Chicken instead of pheasant, huh...”
“What did you just say, you bastard?!”
Even after the painkiller incident, I stuck faithfully to my role as combat medic.
Ttalgwi, who had received my “aaang,” had chased off the squad members and was now handling all the seriously wounded patients herself.
Thanks to that, I only had to jab combat stimulants into the lightly wounded.
Of course, the number of patients I had to handle had increased dramatically, but since it was almost like simple manual labor, I had no complaints.
Treating them so diligently allowed me to get along better with the other allied troops too.
The allied soldiers who had just been mocking our squad as “concept zombies” were now bowing their heads in gratitude for our support.
The thought that I was improving the Red Army’s image made my chest swell with pride.
I had no idea that saving lives could feel this rewarding.
“Sukka! I got shot in the ass!”
“Ah, yes. Come over here. But why is everyone only getting hit in the butt?”
“How should I know? Just give me a nice shot!”
“N-No need to drop your pants, stop right there.”
“Uhahaha!”
The problem was that there were just too many patients.
It was so bad that I was too busy to even notice the artillery fire and gunfire.
On top of that, most of the patients were from our squad, which felt suspicious somehow.
They all came limping in with butt wounds, so even someone as oblivious as me started to get doubts.
They were probably just messing around since I was away from the front lines.
Ttalgwi had just finished her treatments and looked free, so I decided to step up and launch the real operation.
“Ttalgwi, let’s head to the front lines now.”
“Huh? No more treating?”
“Yeah, it’s time to move. We’ve fully captured Point D.”
“Hehe, so we’re starting the sickle and hammer operation?”
“That’s right.”
Before leaving the point, we resupplied on medical gear.
Now it was time to become combat medics and shine on the front lines.
But to make the operation succeed, we absolutely needed help from the other allies.
Fortunately, there were plenty of troops gathered at Point D, so Ttalgwi and I headed to the allies we had scouted earlier.
“Are you there?”
The allies I wanted to rope into the operation were two tanks.
Sturdy comrades who had come for resupply but ended up stuck, holding off the enemy’s waves of attacks.
According to the viewers, the tanks were called M1 Abrams.
I didn’t like the paint job that reminded me of Tiger tanks, but honestly, they looked way cooler and stronger than T-34s.
The only downside was how loud the engines were.
The sharp noise, like a turbofan jet engine, was giving me a headache.
Because of that, calling out to the tank crew from outside was a bit tricky.
I didn’t want to yell at the top of my lungs, so I ended up spreading my arms toward Ttalgwi.
“Ttalgwi... um, could you...”
“Yes? Want a hug?”
“Yes...”
“Hehe, you’re sneakily full of aegyo, huh?”
“N-No... I meant put me up on the tank...”
“Oh.”
Ttalgwi, who had hugged me tight, gave an awkward smile and went up on her tiptoes.
It unintentionally looked like I was acting cute, and the chat exploded, but thanks to her, I easily climbed onto the tank that would’ve been a pain to scale.
At that moment, the hatch on the tank turret clanged open.
It seemed they had spotted us climbing on through the periscope.
Soon, someone popped out like a mole and shouted.
A male player who looked like the tank commander, with his striking black sunglasses.
“Damn it! No freeloading!”
“Ah! S-Sorry...”
“What do you want?!”
“I-I wanted to ask for support...”
He glanced back and forth between Ttalgwi and me, then shook his head.
He crooked his finger, gesturing for me to come closer.
I awkwardly stood and approached, and he fiddled with the radio on my shoulder without asking.
He must’ve wanted to talk over the radio because of the tank noise.
= “Now talk. Your voice is like an ant’s, I couldn’t hear shit.”
“Ah, thanks. I was hoping you could push the front lines.”
= “The front lines? How far?”
“Deep into enemy territory, all the way to Point A.”
= “So you want us to break through the choke points?”
“Yes, could you please?”
= “Sigh... This is why infantry suck...”
“Uh, yes?”
I panicked at the unexpected hostility.
Being outright dismissed like this wasn’t common even on the Eastern Front.
He must be someone with a really high rank.
It was just a game, so it didn’t matter, but his cold attitude made me tense up.
The tank commander adjusted his sunglasses and started lecturing.
His complaints were soaked in the stresses and hardships of being a tank commander.
= “Listen up, kid. Tanks aren’t invincible. Charge in blindly, and one anti-tank round blows the lid off. Vehicle users can’t redeploy, you know that? You gonna take responsibility if we die pointlessly like that?”
“T-That’s why I cleared out the area around the point to keep the tanks safe...”
= “Good job on that. But charging into enemy lines? You think the enemy runs away when tanks show up? We gotta move with infantry. Tanks rolling without cover get treated like golden goblins, you know that?”
“I wasn’t planning to send the tanks alone... We were gonna advance together...”
= “That’s commendable. So how many are coming with? If it’s scraps using us as shields, pass.”
“Sixteen... Two squads in one party... We’re not using the tanks as shields. We just wanted artillery support from behind...”
= “What? Sixteen of you? And just artillery support?”
“Yeah... Isn’t that what tanks are for...”
After answering, I drooped my head weakly.
It felt like arguing with an ally, which bummed me out.
Plus, without tank support, the operation would be tough.
I had even given it the cool name “Sickle and Hammer,” so getting rejected by the tank commander would make me feel bad toward everyone.
Then, the tank commander, who had been staring me down, adjusted his sunglasses and grinned.
Out of nowhere, he started firing military questions at me.
= “Hey, kid. When a friendly tank fires its main gun at the enemy, which side should infantry stick to?”
“I-I don’t get the point of the question... Why would you be next to a tank in combat?”
= “Tell me why you shouldn’t hug the side of a friendly tank for cover.”
“It’d get in the way of evasive maneuvers... And I don’t wanna use a tank as cover anyway...”
= “Why not use a tank as cover?”
“It moves faster than me, how could I? And nowhere’s as dangerous as near a tank. Tanks are priority targets. I don’t wanna stick to a coffin and die with it.”
= “Pfft! You guys hear that? Called it a coffin! Puahaha!”
The tank commander laughed mockingly, seemingly satisfied with my answer.
I’d just snarked out of annoyance, but for some reason, he loved it.
His weird reaction left me flustered instead.
Feeling like I’d stirred up a hornet’s nest, I tried to jump off the tank.
= “Where you going?”
“Uh, yes?”
= “You gotta escort the coffin, right?”
“Ah...”
Looks like I caught the eye of a weirdo.
I forced an awkward smile and signaled Ttalgwi for help.
But she was distracted chatting with viewers.
Caught in the tank commander’s grip, I could only make a pouty face.
= “I’m Wardaddy. You, kid?”
“My nickname’s Sukka... But I’m not a kid.”
= “We’re rolling out, so get on properly.”
“Huh? You’ll support us?”
“Yeah. No reason to say no to sensible infantry.”
He pulled me by the hand to sit on the turret.
The tank commander, who called himself Wardaddy, boomed a laugh and announced departure.
Soon, with Ttalgwi aboard too, Wardaddy grinned at me.
His black sunglasses glinted in the sunlight.
= “Lead us to the slaughterhouse.”
I really ended up with a properly crazy guy.
But I was already on the tank, so I couldn’t back out.
I grabbed Ttalgwi’s arm and directed Wardaddy on the route.
Soon, the two Abrams tanks left Point D and headed for the front lines.
“Sukka... how the heck did you do that?”
Then, Ttalgwi whispered so only I could hear.
When I gave her a what-do-you-mean look, she pointed at Wardaddy’s head and continued.
“He’s kinda famous in Frontline Archive...”
“Huh? Wardaddy’s famous?”
“Yeah... They say he’s completely nuts...”
“N-Nuts?”
I didn’t know the details, but I could guess why he was famous.
His tanker pride and prickly attitude didn’t seem ordinary.
As I nodded in understanding, Wardaddy whipped around with a hearty laugh.
He tapped his headset with his middle finger and spoke.
= “Kid. You’re still on our radio channel. I heard what you just said crystal clear.”
“Ah! S-Sorry...”
= “It’s fine. Getting called crazy here is a compliment.”
“Huh? A compliment?”
“Yeah. War’s for the crazies, right?”
“Ah...”
Wardaddy lifted his sunglasses, revealing his eyes.
The look in them toward me was a familiar emptiness.
The unpleasant gaze I always saw in the mirror.
That’s when I instantly understood why Wardaddy was famous as a madman.
I’d bet anything he’d experienced real war.
He didn’t seem to see this as just a game.
= “Here, you can go as crazy as you want.”
Here, you can go as crazy as you want.
As someone in the same boat as Wardaddy, those words felt like comfort to me.