Ch.163Episode 9 – Old Fashioned

If you were to ask who the strongest mage in the world is, magicians would argue and fight until sunrise the next day. Similarly, if you asked who the most devout cleric is, priests of different sects would refuse to back down from their claims, even if it meant dueling to the death.

That’s how fierce debates about the superiority of mages, swordsmen, or clerics tend to be.

Honor, symbolism, values, propaganda, historical conflicts, legitimacy, pride.

That short question entangles the complex interests of countless groups, and no matter how much time passes, a conclusion that everyone can agree on will never emerge. It’s similar to how people always argue about whether to dip or pour sauce on sweet and sour pork.

Of course, most of the mages, swordsmen, and priests who regularly appear in such debates are either dead legends or became legends after death. But people’s gossip doesn’t care about such details.

Yet among all those legends, some still remain “active.”

The imperial mage from the royal bloodline with dragon heritage, famous for mysterious blue flames and silver hair like the northern eternal snow.

The high priest of the Order who, though currently whereabouts unknown, once earned the reverence of all inquisitors, holy knights, and exorcist priests by slaying demons, heretics, and even devils.

Standing on the opposite side, the oracle who reads the mysterious principles of the universe with her eyes and has defended the faith against the Order for the past hundred years, called the matriarch of all shamans and astrologers.

The chieftain of the great plains who climbed the snow-covered Paraang Mountains, battled a dragon, and roared covered in its blood.

These were great individuals who reached enlightenment in human form while alive, and they were living legends even now. And Camilla, by her mere existence, belonged among them.

Limitless magical affinity, overwhelming growth rate, explosive output, and more. The Abas government judged that with more magical training and sufficient time, she had the potential to reach the same level as the legendary mages who had won the war against the Order. In other words, she was a person whose value was impossible to determine.

A person like Bitcoin—you never know if she might suddenly be delisted or break through the sky and fly to Mars. That was Camilla.

And what was this Camilla doing now?

“Hold your breath a bit. The strap won’t tighten.”

“This is too tight…!”

“Now, I’m going to pull. Hold your breath.”

“Hnngh…!”

“…Ah, this doesn’t work either.”

She couldn’t even properly put on a bulletproof vest.

Episode 9 – Old-Fashioned

A bulletproof vest is an important piece of protective equipment.

If armor protects against spears and blades, bulletproof vests protect the wearer from bullets and fragments. Therefore, for soldiers or police officers who often face situations where they might get shot, a bulletproof vest is essentially a lifeline.

Bulletproof vests emerged alongside firearms and have evolved through two world wars, the Cold War, and the war on terror.

They’ve primarily developed in ways that enhance ballistic protection while reducing weight to minimize fatigue, and allowing customizable settings to improve the wearer’s comfort.

But I haven’t worn bulletproof vests much. This was because I was an intelligence officer in an intelligence unit.

The first principle of an intelligence officer is to be as inconspicuous as possible. And how could someone wearing a bulletproof vest not stand out?

Whether it’s a plate carrier or whatever, even worn under clothes, it’s immediately noticeable, and if you try to cover it with a coat, you’re in a desert region. Setting aside heat fatigue, once you go out wearing a bulletproof vest, locals will stare suspiciously and whisper among themselves.

So I rarely wore bulletproof vests during my time at both the Military Intelligence Agency and the Defense Intelligence Command.

That was the problem.

“Ah… This doesn’t seem to fit either.”

I’ve rarely worn bulletproof vests in my life, and most of those times were so long ago that I had almost no knowledge about them.

That’s where the problem arose.

For safety reasons, Camilla and I had to wear bulletproof vests before shooting. Fortunately, we managed to borrow a few vests from a nearby unit, but…

I forgot that Camilla was a woman.

“Um, Camilla… I’m really sorry, but maybe you should lose some weight in the future…”

“How am I supposed to lose weight from my chest…!?”

Since bulletproof vests basically have ballistic plates inside, they’re rigid. Whether worn by men or women, they’re equally heavy and uncomfortable. But generally, bulletproof vests were more difficult for women to wear than men. This was due to women’s physical characteristics, with developed chests and pelvises.

Unfortunately, Camilla was not a man but a woman.

She managed to get her head through the vest, but whenever we tried to tighten the waist straps, the ballistic plates kept catching on her chest, making it impossible to wear.

“It’s not working. This won’t tighten at all.”

“L-let’s… Let’s try one more time…”

“Do we really have to? Wouldn’t it be better to just shoot without the vest…?”

“No matter what…! Ah, it’s for safety…”

“Sigh…”

I moved behind Camilla.

She tilted her bright red face upward and held her breath with a “Hup!” I pressed close behind her and strained with all my might to tighten the vest straps.

I applied so much force that the vest and waist straps trembled. We struggled desperately to get the bulletproof vest on.

Of course, applying brute force wouldn’t make the vest stretch. The straps, which had been pulling ever so slightly, sprang forward along with the vest as soon as Camilla, unable to hold her breath any longer, opened her mouth.

“Aah…!”

“……”

The tightly pulled straps now hung limply downward, and the vest, blocked by an enormous barrier, began to dance awkwardly in the air. It was a pitiful sight.

In the end, after wrestling with the bulletproof vest for over 30 minutes, we had no choice but to declare defeat.

“Let’s just get a new model or have one custom-made.”

“…Let’s just shoot.”

*

The shooting training, now in its second day, finally got on track. I began the training by teaching Camilla about pistols and rifles.

“The firearms in this area might seem unfamiliar, but if you’ve used ARs or AKs before, you should adapt easily. Let’s first learn about the military rifles of Abas and Kiyen today.”

Today, Camilla would be handling rifles. I lined up the firearms she would be using and explained them one by one.

“You can see differences in design philosophy and appearance between Abas and Kiyen rifles, but the most notable difference is the selector switch. Kiyen military rifles operate by raising and lowering a lever using the thumb or index and middle fingers for right-handed users. This inevitably creates a gap as the index finger leaves the trigger, which often puts untrained soldiers at risk.”

“Conversely, Abas military rifles can be operated with just the thumb for right-handed users. The two rifles have fundamental differences in grip and shooting techniques, so we won’t focus exclusively on one. That means you’ll need to learn both diligently.”

Camilla took the gun and entered the shooting lane. I opened the ammunition box, poured out the bullets, fitted the brass cartridges into the magazine, and explained the training.

“Today’s training will start with zeroing, then cover grip methods and shooting techniques. For rifles, we’ll only do precision shooting like yesterday. For pistols, we’ll move to the next level.”

“The next level?”

“Dynamic shooting. You’ll shoot while moving, shoot at moving targets while standing still, and shoot at moving targets while moving yourself.”

I handed Camilla a chest rig that had been stuffed in a box, personally inserted the magazines for her, and picked up my own gun. Thus, the training began.

As explained, rifle training started with zeroing. When Camilla fired three shots, I checked the shot group on the target and adjusted the sights. Surprisingly, Camilla’s shooting skills were decent; from her first shots, she formed a shot group near the center of the target.

“You’re doing well.”

“Am I?”

“Of course, this level is good.”

She clearly had experience handling guns, as Camilla adapted easily to the Abas military rifle. I heard she owned an AR, which probably helped her adapt quickly.

But problems arose with the Kiyen military rifle. Camilla didn’t know how to handle the imperial-style rifle she was seeing for the first time, and after attempting to load it a few times, she gave me a pitiful look asking for help.

“Have you never used an AK? Soviet, Russian, Eastern European. Or even Chinese, or at least a counterfeit one.”

“Why would I have used that…? Have you?”

“Is there any intelligence officer who’s served in Africa or the Middle East who hasn’t handled an AK?”

Of course I had used one.

Camilla, examining the Kiyen military rifle, asked me a question.

“Where do you get all these guns anyway?”

“In Africa or the Middle East, you can just go to the market and buy guns. Well, depending on the region, sometimes we bring them from home in advance. Especially for sniper rifles, since maintenance is important, we often prepare them before going rather than acquiring them locally.”

“Aren’t locally acquired firearms of questionable quality? What if they explode while shooting?”

“These days, AKs in Africa or the Middle East are of good quality. Even DIY ones have improved with technological advances… If you’re really suspicious, you can just buy good parts separately and assemble them yourself.”

“Wait, that’s possible?”

“For ammunition, many places import casings and bullets and assemble them. Some tribes even produce and sell ammunition. They even make money from it.”

Let’s end the talk about Africa and the Middle East here and get back to the main point.

I carefully explained to Camilla, recalling old memories and the enemy weapons training I received at the Military Intelligence Agency.

“The AK has a groove, so when inserting the magazine, you must align it with that part. And since the charging handle is on the right side, novices instinctively use their right hand to load, which is a very bad habit.”

“Then what should I do?”

“Use your left hand.”

I taught her methods of reaching over the gun with her left hand or tilting the gun and inserting her hand from below to load.

After finishing my explanation, I handed the gun to Camilla. She handled it with awkward movements a few times, and as she began to get used to the Kiyen military rifle, we moved on to zeroing and live firing.

We conducted live fire exercises in the warehouse.

According to Abas military regulations, we should have been at an outdoor shooting range with strict safety regulations, with targets set up at least 100m to 300m away, but we coolly shot indoors.

Why? Because… we weren’t regular military.

“Let’s start with rifles. Shoot at the target while changing positions.”

At my signal, Camilla shot at the target while changing positions. She would shoot standing, then bend her knees, or slowly move left and right.

Unlike rifles, pistol training was conducted in a more challenging way. Following my signals, Camilla moved around the warehouse while shooting at targets with her pistol.

“Move to the left cover while shooting.”

“Advance forward while shooting.”

“Now move backward. Keep firing, of course.”

Camilla showed quite a decent stance. She extended her arm holding the pistol, slightly hunched her upper body, and moved with stable steps while firing at the targets.

We didn’t stop there but continued with training on taking shooting positions using cover and reloading during firing. Unfortunately, Camilla repeatedly made mistakes like dropping magazines on the floor or forgetting where she had put them, hesitating.

Of course, I had made such mistakes a few times myself, so instead of yelling, I limited myself to cautioning her to act as calmly as possible without being too hasty.

After all, no one can be perfect all the time.

As she gradually became accustomed to pistol shooting, I tormented her by changing the positions and increasing the number of targets, or making the commands more complex. And when she showed signs of adapting to this method, I gave her a new command.

“Camilla. Do you know how to do jumping push-ups?”

“You mean jumping while doing push-ups? Yes, I’ve done them.”

“From now on, do that before shooting. After the jumping push-ups, run to the sandbag visible at the entrance, lift it over your head a few times, then come back here and shoot.”

“What did you say…?”

“It’s training to shoot under physical stress. This is done in special forces and regular military too…”

“Why on earth would we do that?!”

“Because combat always breaks out in unpredictable situations. If bullets are flying at you right now, you can’t tell the enemy you’re not feeling well and ask to fight tomorrow, can you?”

“……”

I trained Camilla in an extremely sensible, systematic, scientifically proven and verified manner. It was absolutely not that I wanted to torment her unconditionally or teach her in a haphazard way.

Camilla seemed to recognize my effort and sincerity. She continued pistol shooting while moving her trembling arms and legs after push-ups and sandbag exercises. It definitely wasn’t because I was holding a rifle that she was doing this forcibly. Probably.

Looking at Camilla enthusiastically following the training, I smiled brightly. The inside of the warehouse wasn’t very pleasant with the smell of gunpowder, sweat, and damp humidity, but it wasn’t bad.

“How is it? Not too bad, right?”

“……”

“I’ll find a professional training ground soon, so just bear with it a little longer. We’ll scrape together vehicles and heavy weapons for proper practice.”

“Gaaaah…!”

How much time had passed?

Just as Camilla, trembling like an aspen leaf after finishing push-ups, threw down the sandbag in frustration and collapsed on the floor, I handed her cold water and a towel.

“Let’s take a short break.”

“C-couldn’t we eat first…?”

“It’s not time yet, I think? There should be about two hours left until lunch.”

“Ah.”

Camilla’s eyes glazed over. She seemed broken.

Leaving behind Camilla, who sat dazed and half-conscious, I went to open the tightly closed door for ventilation. Or rather, I tried to.

-Creeeeak.

The moment I put my hand on the handle, the warehouse door opened by itself. And as bright sunlight poured in along with the clear forest air, an uninvited guest peeked her head in and our eyes met.

It was Lucia.

“……”

“……”

“…Saint. Why are you here?”

“I came to call you for treatment before your injury worsens. But somehow…”

Lucia looked at Camilla once, then at me, then back at Camilla.

Then with a very disgruntled expression, she narrowed her eyes and glared at me.

“Did I interrupt something?”

“That’s a clear misunderstanding.”

=

There are many specific organizations and groups that make money through illegal means. Besides drug and gun smuggling, some even occupy mines to make money.

This part will be explored more deeply when we move to another continent later.