Chapter 53
Chapter 53
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 53
Chapter Title: Not a Self-Deprecating Stream
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“Sukka! Are you okay?”
“Ah, no...”
We headed back to the beach where the British troops were gathered.
Since there was only one AA gun whose position we'd confirmed anyway, the plan was to have the shorties handle the loading.
My legs, numb with fear, finally carried me to the sandy beach, and the PTSD I'd barely calmed down started raging again.
The bombers had passed by just moments ago, so the sky was quiet, but the ground was a hellish nightmare.
“Ugh...”
The beach was pockmarked with craters from the bombing, and mangled corpses littered the edges of the craters.
It was definitely a game, so the gruesome scenes should have been censored, but to my eyes, they looked far too realistic.
My PTSD must have been filling in the censored parts with its own twisted imagination.
Feeling sick to my stomach, I bent over, but all I managed was futile dry heaves.
The resolve I'd thought was solid crumbled in an instant.
I confessed my true feelings to my comrades, who were scanning the front.
“I really don't think I can do this—”
“—Now that the bombers have pulled back, this is our chance! We're almost there, so hang in just a bit longer!”
“Ugh...”
My timing was awful, and my whimper got buried.
In the end, I wiped the drool from my mouth and had no choice but to follow behind Ghost.
Running with my eyes half-shut in terror, I kept stumbling over my feet.
My precarious state must have looked frustrating, because Wardaddy scooped me up in his arms and said,
“I'll carry you, so get your head straight. Sing your national anthem in your mind or something.”
“S-su, suz... nyerushmyu...”
“Not that anthem.”
“The East Sea's waters... and Baekdu Mountain...”
Clinging to Wardaddy's side, I began singing my national anthem.
It didn't really calm my PTSD, but it was oddly fascinating that I still remembered the lyrics.
After belting out the first verse in full, we finally reached our destination.
Supply crates were stacked on the empty pier, and there sat the AA gun, all alone—a sight all too familiar to me.
It was probably called the '40mm Bofors AA Gun.'
It was a massive beast, way too big for shorties like them to handle.
“Ttalgwi and Wardaddy, you two handle aiming! Ghost and I will take care of loading!”
“Eek! Me, aiming? I don't know how to fire this thing!”
“I don't know either! Ask Wardaddy, the tank commander!”
“No! That uncle looks clueless too!”
The squad members started arguing as they inspected the AA gun.
Having only experienced modern warfare, WWII weapons were foreign to them.
There were no NPCs around the AA gun either, making it hard to get help.
It looked like I'd have to step up and teach them how to use it.
“Wardaddy... put me down, please...”
“Alright, done crying? You even wiped your snot on my uniform.”
“That wasn't tears, it was drool...”
“Ehehe!”
I dodged Wardaddy's glare and hid behind Ghost's back.
Then, pointing at the AA gun, I hurriedly started giving instructions.
“F-First, Ttalgwi and Wardaddy, sit at the AA gun. You need two people working together to aim it.”
“Huh? Sukka, you've fired this before?”
“I told you I haven't... I just know how it works...”
“Ah.”
The Bofors AA gun was designed for four or more operators.
Two handled firing and aiming, while the rest loaded.
As a 40mm gun, it didn't have a high rate of fire, but its destructive power was top-tier among AA guns.
I remembered scenes of it shredding infantry, so its lethality was guaranteed.
“Turn the handle that looks like a valve to move the barrel. Ttalgwi, vertical aiming; Wardaddy, horizontal.”
“Oh! Like this? Got it!”
“Wardaddy, give directions based on the situation. Think of it like manually firing a tank's main gun.”
“Alright, gotcha.”
Fortunately, Ttalgwi and Wardaddy adapted to operating the AA gun quickly.
They bickered like mortal enemies, but their teamwork was surprisingly good.
Next up was loading training.
I grabbed Ghost and climbed onto the AA gun as I continued explaining.
“This is where you load the shells. Put in the whole five-round clip. I'm too short to reach, so you handle it, Ghost.”
“Yes, understood. It is a bit high.”
“I'll keep passing you the ammo clips from the side. Just load what I hand you.”
“Won't that tire you out too much, Sukka?”
“I'm fine. I'm stronger than I look.”
I flexed my arm confidently into an L-shape.
But my tiny, skinny bicep was hidden under the uniform anyway.
Now that I'd taught them how to use it, we needed some practice shots.
I dashed to the stack of crates on the pier and pulled out an ammo clip.
“It's... heavy...”
Even though games boost your strength, the shells were too heavy.
I could manage one clip easily, but two had me grunting.
Leaving the ammo crate next to the AA gun worried me about secondary explosions.
My arms and legs would just have to suffer this time.
“Ugh... Got the shells... Take them, please...”
“Are you sure you can handle it alone? You don't look that strong...”
“G-Guess we need to ask the NPCs for help...”
“Hmm... Not sure if that'll work.”
I had no choice but to decide on getting help from the NPCs.
I'd barely moved one clip, and I was already out of breath.
The Bofors AA gun fires about two rounds per second.
That means one clip runs dry in 2.5 seconds after loading.
If I slowed down loading, our 'anti-aircraft' gun might turn into an 'anti-aircraft terror.'
Better to grab some NPCs to help with loading.
“Ex-Excuse me...”
“What? Why are French troops here? Trying to sneak onto our ships?”
“No intention of that... We just need some help...”
“Go block those Nazi bastards quick!”
But the NPCs' reactions were ice-cold.
Thanks to the game's mechanics, my Korean got translated, but they still weren't having it.
They were probably on edge from the desperation of being surrounded.
As a PTSD veteran, I figured I needed to give them a stern pep talk.
“E-Everyone, listen up!”
I shouted loudly from the pier, overlooking the beach.
I'd given it my best voice, but only a few paid attention.
With no telling when the bombers would return, my heart raced.
I raised the rifle slung over my shoulder and fired into the air, shouting again.
- Bang!
“Vnimanije!!”
This time, almost everyone turned to me.
Sure, the gunshot drew some hostile glares, but I had no time to worry about that.
I'd planned to grab just two or three, but seeing their pathetic state changed my mind.
NPC or not, I couldn't stand by and watch them wait helplessly for death.
“Bombers are coming back soon! I need your help to survive!”
“What?! We'll just board ships and leave!! This is your land—defend it yourselves!!”
“What I'm defending isn't France—it's you! Help us shoot down the bombers!”
“Don't give orders, you incompetent French prick!!”
Insults flew, but I didn't feel the need to argue back.
I wasn't French to begin with, and I agreed with the incompetent part.
I was just shocked by the NPCs' free will.
They felt so real, it was almost nostalgic.
“The three right in front of you, go help load the AA gun! The rest, ready your rifles and prepare to focus fire on the bombers!”
“Who the hell are you to order us?!”
“I'm a war hero! Can't you see the medal on my chest?”
“Something that small?!”
...Yeah, the medal was tiny.
Still, I'd remember that guy's face.
“Stukas have thin, weak armor protecting the pilots! If hundreds shoot, we can handle them!”
“──”
“Suppressive fire will throw off their bombing accuracy! We all unite, and our survival odds go up!”
“──”
“If you know other AA gun positions, man them now! You can fight—why just take it lying down?!”
I was yelling at the NPCs, but really, it was for myself.
For the cowardly Chernakoshka who knew the Stukas' weaknesses but was still terrified.
Fortunately, a good number of NPCs started moving, hesitant but complying.
And nearly all of them began questioning the situation.
How could this many soldiers just sit there taking it?
I hadn't been at Dunkirk myself, but the British troops back then were definitely brave against the Germans.
“Where do we go?”
“Ah, thanks for stepping up. Just follow me.”
I managed to lead back three soldiers.
I'd even ignited the spark of fighting spirit in NPCs sunk in helplessness.
No telling what butterfly effects it'd have, but it'd surely turn in our favor.
Still, my unexpected speech had left my legs trembling uncontrollably.
“I'm back... These guys will help with loading...”
“Huh?! Sukka! You actually brought NPCs?”
“Yeah, we're allies. Looks like they want to fight together.”
“Wow... First time cooperating with NPCs.”
“Huh?”
Apparently, getting help from NPCs wasn't common.
For me, who'd always fought alongside them, it was hard to understand.
But I'd ask about that later.
Death's siren was already wailing from the sky.
- Weeooong────
“Stukas...”
Would trauma devour me, or would I overcome it?
Now was the time to confront the fear of the past four years head-on.