Ch.406Episode 16 – The Six Million Dollar Man

# The Deepest Silence

Thunder and lightning erupted, sending ominous sounds and flashing lights across the desert. The silence was shattered by noise that shook heaven and earth, and figures hidden in darkness appeared on the desolate sands.

A building barely visible through dust and flashes. Uninvited guests moved through the subtle shadows of layered darkness.

As thunder rumbled the ground and lightning cut through the air illuminating moments of anxiety, hurried footsteps were buried beneath the intense light, leaving no trace.

The desert’s silence concealed existence, and heaven’s echo erased all traces.

In an instant, the light and noise subsided, bringing a profound stillness.

“……”

The uninvited guests who reached the building exchanged silent signals.

It was a night when even the moon barely rose, making it difficult to distinguish objects, but reading each other’s intentions wasn’t particularly challenging in such darkness.

One of the intruders who had arrived at the lodging under cover of night reached out and grabbed the doorknob.

The cool touch tickled his skin as the sound of the handle turning resonated like a heavenly deity’s roar.

The sound of a bolt sliding forward struck his eardrums.

-Click!

Wide-open eyes. A hand pulling away from the doorknob.

A finger pointing faster than the intruder’s movement.

—!!

A gunshot as powerful as a dwarf’s hammer blow cut through the desert night.

## Episode 16 – The Six Million Dollar Man

The scream erupted immediately after the gunshot.

“Aaaagh!”

Thud—the sound of someone falling followed the scream with a half-beat delay.

Having fortunately avoided instant death, the intruder’s screams as he rolled on the sand showed no signs of stopping.

“Huaaaagh!!”

“W-what’s going on?!”

“It hurts. It hurts, f-fuck!”

Incomprehensible eastern dialect came from beyond the front door. Voices filled with shock and the howls of the injured. Screams that could put a soprano to shame continued at length.

After catching my breath and waiting briefly, I heard someone approaching with hurried footsteps. Simultaneously, the screams that could wake the entire village began to fade, along with the sound of clothes and skin dragging across the ground.

The intruders didn’t approach rashly, likely intending to tend to the wounded and regroup. A wise choice. Not provoking someone with a gun is basic etiquette in neighborhoods with terrible security.

“……”

With the rifle sling around my neck, I took a drag from my cigarette. Sleep had long since fled, but my body still craved nicotine.

After watching the darkness for a while, exhaling smoke, I heard fluent Mauritanian common language cutting clearly through the silence.

“…What do you think you’re doing!”

A familiar voice.

“That’s what I want to ask you.”

I responded while puffing on the locally purchased cigarette.

“Coming to a guest’s lodging in the middle of the night, especially where a foreign woman is staying, without even knocking—isn’t that rather impolite?”

You should be prepared to get shot.

In response, a shout came from outside the lodging.

“Mr. Asud! It’s me, the militia captain! We met earlier, right? Let’s talk this out! With words!”

It was the militia captain.

He revealed himself with both hands raised high. He was positioned behind a sturdy stone wall that reached up to an adult man’s chest.

“Talking sounds good.”

I looked at the militia captain positioned behind the stone wall. Then I rolled my eyes, thoroughly scanning the area around the lodging before exhaling smoke and speaking.

“First, put down your guns over there, then we can talk.”

At my words, the militia captain’s gaze shifted. A suppressed angry voice faintly carried on the wind. The poles that had been sticking up above the wall hastily disappeared.

Though the moonlight wasn’t bright enough for proper identification, the poles clearly had the shape of gun barrels. Bolt-action rifles. Common illegal weapons in the Mauritanian continent.

“This isn’t your first time doing this, is it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Robbery. Robbery. Unless my eyes are failing me, you don’t seem like amateurs. And that armed robbery I mentioned earlier. That was you people, wasn’t it?”

“What nonsense are you talking! After shooting at us.”

A voice full of anger shattered the silence. It was an understandable reaction. A foreign guest they’d welcomed was firing guns and suddenly accusing them of being robbers.

But my suspicion had reasonable grounds.

The first thing that came to mind was the money bags I’d seen in the warehouse. Piles of cash with local bills mixed with various foreign currencies.

“Rural farmers wouldn’t have that much money. Especially in cash. If they’d earned that much from farming, the village wouldn’t be in this state. Unless it was illegally earned money.”

Logically, rural farmers would have no reason to keep that much money in the village warehouse. Nor would they have any reason to possess so much foreign currency.

This village near the border is an insignificant rural area. It doesn’t even have decent jobs, so people have to sell crops from their fields to the city to make a living—that kind of backwater place.

The Al Bas tribe that manages the vast territory including the village. Farid, the son of the tribal chief, informed me that armed robbers operate around here. The warlord duo who left for the city to find a doctor said the same thing.

What I’m curious about is why there are armed robbers in such a rural area.

As evident from my previous conversation with Farid, the nearest village is three hours away, and the city is five hours away.

If armed robbers are active, they would operate in densely populated areas, not in a border region near barren swamps where monsters emerge and few people live. This doesn’t make logical sense.

In my experience, there are only two possible answers in such cases.

First, the armed robber gang has fled to the border area to escape the warlord’s eyes.

Second, the villagers, who know the geography well and are armed but have no future, are committing robberies.

In war-torn regions, people typically either join government forces or warlords to receive rations, or they survive through robbery. It’s difficult to make a living through normal means.

In my judgment, the people of this village belonged to the latter category.

In other words, they were robbers.

“You’re not affiliated with the warlord occupying the territory, nor do you appear to be cooperating with government forces.”

“……”

“Yet you’re stockpiling cash in your warehouse?”

There’s no need to overthink this. They couldn’t have amassed that much money through farming in the first place. If that were possible, Afghan farmers wouldn’t be growing opium.

That means they earned money illegally, and in the third world, underground businesses that handle significant amounts of money are generally connected to drugs, human trafficking, or smuggling. Or they pulled off a heist as robbers.

In other words,

These bastards aren’t innocent civilians either.

“You might be skilled at robbery, but you lack talent in money laundering. Looking at how you’ve collected so much money but haven’t been able to spend it properly.”

I spoke while comfortably gripping the rifle handle. It was the Kiyen Imperial Army’s standard rifle, capable of firing 600 rounds per minute.

Despite opening my mouth, no response came.

“……”

Was it because the truth had been exposed, or because they realized words wouldn’t work?

Whatever conclusion they reached, there was only one future left now.

After checking the wire connected to the front door, I took my rifle and went inside.

*

The militia captain hiding behind the stone wall thought to himself: For a journalist, he’s quite perceptive.

Grabbing his propped-up rifle, the militia captain gave verbal orders to his subordinates.

“We planned to handle this quietly, but things have gone wrong. Go and capture that guy right now.”

Even with a gun, the opponent is just one person.

I’m guessing that gun probably belonged to the mage. A journalist wouldn’t carry a gun, though a bodyguard might. That means there’s only one armed person in that house.

“Will it be okay?”

“There’s a mage in there too.”

His subordinates questioned with voices clearly showing their anxiety.

But the militia captain nodded with determined eyes.

“It’ll be fine.”

While mages and shamans are extremely dangerous beings, they can be dealt with if armed civilians join forces. This has been proven by the government forces’ operations against rebel shamans over the past several years.

So even the most accomplished mage would find it difficult to use their powers in front of armed people. No matter how well-trained, bullets can still pierce a person’s skull. Mages are still just people.

Even a simple calculation shows this.

“We outnumber them at least ten to one. Go and push through.”

“What about the mage?”

“Shoot if necessary. As long as they’re alive, that’s all that matters.”

After acknowledging this fact, his subordinates rose with their guns.

Under cover of night, the intruders began approaching the building. It was the best building in the village, given to their guests.

Prioritizing guests’ safety even at the risk of one’s own life is a long-standing custom on the Mauritanian continent.

Due to the tradition of valuing honor above life, harming guests is considered dishonorable conduct. And losing honor essentially means being treated as less than human.

However, people whose honor has already fallen tend to abandon long-standing customs on their own. Honor already lost—a little more loss makes no difference.

This was a fact the militia captain deeply understood.

It was also a fact familiar to the foreigner who had a habit of visiting only the most troubled neighborhoods.

Tatatatatata! With ear-piercing gunshots, flames erupted from the window.

“Gun! It’s a gun!”

“Take cover!”

The armed robbers approaching the lodging dove behind rocks, trees, and fences. The agile ones were lucky enough to avoid the gunfire, but those who weren’t became one with the desert.

A man who barely managed to hide shouted to his comrades.

“First floor! First floor!”

“He’s on the first floor! Shoot!”

A man standing up from behind the stone wall pointed at the window, revealing the enemy’s position.

Then, flash! A white light illuminated the surroundings for an instant.

What followed the light was noise that shook heaven and earth. And half a beat later, gunfire.

-Bang!

A single gunshot echoed in the yard. It was the moment a bullet lodged in the palate of the man who had bravely exposed his upper body.

The militia captain’s eyes widened at the sight, but soon a fiery voice hammered his subordinates’ eardrums.

“Damn it. What are you doing! Shoot!”

Under the lashing, countless gun barrels began spitting fire. With each trigger pull and bolt action, brass casings bloomed in the desert, and dust flowers blossomed from the bricks hit by bullets.

I counted the numerous bullets embedding in the wall while crouched beneath the window.

I’d been dismissing them as antiques from the World War, but they were more threatening than I’d imagined. The only consolation was their poor accuracy.

As incomprehensible shouts filtered through the broken window, I grabbed my bag and fled to the second floor.

Bang! Bang! Bang! As I climbed the stairs, bullets that had shattered the glass window enthusiastically welcomed me. Though threatening, the gunfire was certainly less intense than at the first-floor window.

“……”

I picked up a broken mirror to observe the situation outside.

The armed robbers were firing their guns indiscriminately. There were far more bullets hitting the wall and missing the target than those lodged in the window. This meant they weren’t a militarily trained armed group.

Their skills were as inadequate as their armaments. Despite engaging in night combat, they hadn’t brought equipment to illuminate their field of vision.

I wasn’t expecting night vision gear or searchlights, but seeing they didn’t even have flashlights…

Anyway, that’s good for me.

“Huff….”

After counting numbers internally, I stood up and pulled the trigger. The selector switch was set to single shot, as this wasn’t a suppression fire.

With each gunshot, one person fell, and with another shot, another corpse was created. I quickly fired at robbers who weren’t behind cover.

In a desert without moonlight, only a dark elf with good night vision could distinguish objects. But I had night vision goggles acquired from a broker.

After creating four or five corpses in the blink of an eye, intense gunfire began flying toward the window. I rolled to the side, barely escaping.

“Ugh….”

With a dull impact sound, a stinging pain wrapped around my shoulder. When I instinctively touched my face due to the sharp, knife-like pain, red blood stained my palm.

Was I hit by broken glass? After shaking off the dust, sawdust, and glass fragments showering down on me, I leaned against the window frame to catch my breath.

That’s when I heard tremendous gunfire from outside.

-Bang-tadadadadang! Bang! Tadang!

The gunfire wasn’t from the robbers’ bolt-action rifles, nor was it from my Kiyen Imperial automatic rifle.

Listening quietly, it sounded like pistol fire. Only then could I identify the source of the gunfire.

The adjacent building.

-Tadang! Bang!

As bullets hit the exterior wall of the adjacent building, flames erupted at the window. Muzzle flash. Someone inside the building was returning fire.

I could guess the identity of that person without further analysis. After all, the building next to ours was where Farid and Al Bas’s guides were staying.

People presumed to be members of the Al Bas tribe were firing at the robbers from inside the building. It was the same pistol that the warlord duo had been carrying.

As the pistol spat fire, bolt-action rifles were fired in response. The warlord and armed robbers were engaged in fierce gunfire, each trying to end the other’s life.

Considering that this area where the village is located is territory occupied by the Al Bas tribe, and by extension, Warlord Hassan, this was insane. Provoking a warlord is equivalent to antagonizing a drug cartel in Mexico.

But even in Mexico, there are vigilante groups that resist the cartels. And on the Mauritanian continent, there were armed vigilante groups resisting the warlords.

Watching the countless bullets crossing the desert night, I muttered while taking out a magazine.

“These bastards. They really picked the wrong day.”

That wasn’t an empty statement.

Amid thunder and lightning dominating the desert, the village robbers exchanging gunfire with the warlord were pouring an enormous rain of bullets. As if they intended to push the warlord away with the entire building.

Crowning the top of that resolute will was an automatic rifle that commanded attention even amid the gunfight.

Tatatatatata! Someone behind a stone wall began firing an automatic rifle at the warlord’s lodging. Observing the area through night vision goggles, I spotted three robbers indiscriminately firing automatic rifles.

I aimed my gun at them and pulled the trigger.

Bang! Bang! Two gunshots and two corpses. I couldn’t deal with the one hiding behind the wall, but I got two of them. However, it was in vain.

The armed robbers firing bolt-action rifles gathered around the corpses. Those who stripped the automatic rifles immediately raised them and began pouring gunfire toward the window where I was hiding.

-Tatatatatata! Tatatata! Tatatata!

“……”

Despite the gunfire turning the bedroom into a mess, I calmly assessed the situation.

Three robbers armed with automatic rifles. Considering there are roughly 30 to 40 men of conscription age in the village, the attackers are about platoon-sized.

Although they aren’t regular soldiers, they wouldn’t give automatic rifles to just anyone. They’d be given to those with good marksmanship or high status.

Then surely the militia captain must be among those three from earlier.

“Everyone listen!”

The militia captain’s shout came from behind the stone wall. My guess was correct. He was the last automatic rifle shooter I hadn’t killed.

The militia captain, safely behind cover, shouted something. Though I couldn’t interpret the local dialect, it was easy to guess his meaning.

As the order was given, five or six robbers attached themselves to the lodging. They were in positions where I’d have to risk exposing myself through the window to shoot them.

Recognizing this, bullets began flying toward the first and second-floor windows.

“……”

After kicking away loose bricks to create space, I extended a broken hand mirror to check below.

In the inverted world, robbers clinging to the exterior wall were roughly opening the front door.

Bang! The sight of them breaking down the door and entering the first floor showed no signs of special forces’ SOPs or veterans trained in urban warfare. The robbers simply invaded the building brutally and violently.

Observing this, I counted internally. One second, two seconds, three seconds, and then—

-BOOM!!

An explosion shook the entire lodging building. The blast was so powerful that dust ejected from the entrance and windows obscured the view on the second floor.

“What? What happened!”

In response to the confused shout from outside, I weakly muttered.

“…You should have checked the door before entering.”

When the elder mentioned catching fish in the river during our dinner, I searched the nearby river and found broken fishing nets, lines, and trash scattered about. I collected the fishing line and immediately returned to the lodging to set up a booby trap.

The booby trap made with fishing line, tape, and grenades sent five robbers to the afterlife. Though a crude creation, its effectiveness was undeniable, judging by how those robber bastards were hesitating, even forgetting to shoot.

I pulled the pin and forcefully threw a grenade out the window. The Imperial grenade flying through the night sky got caught on a branch, lost momentum, and fell downward.

Then came the explosion.

“Huaaaagh!”

“Aaaagh!”

Several robbers covered in dust and fabric began crawling on the ground with terrified expressions. As lightning struck, illuminating the area, the village transformed into a desolate landscape was revealed to all.

Kwarlang, the thunderous sound reverberated with a long tail flowing beyond the sky. And gunfire like a dwarf’s hammer blow followed the footsteps of thunder.

While pulling the trigger, I noticed the chamber was empty and discarded the magazine.

The rifle attached to the sling swayed with my movements as a spy carrying a bag escaped the building with a pistol in hand.

*

The gunfight that began unexpectedly late at night continued until dawn.

“Block them! Don’t let them come up!”

“Mr. Farid!”

A tribesman firing a pistol down the stairs found the tribal chief’s son. After helping Farid to his feet, the tribesman fired a few shots outside and urgently shouted.

“You must go! Take the car and escape!”

“W-what about Mr. Asud?!”

“The bodyguard will protect him. That mage! Mr. Farid, you need to leave first. We’ll take care of the journalist!”

Some tribesmen dragged away Farid, who was shouting to take care of the journalist. The tribesmen remaining in the building fired pistols to prevent the robbers from approaching.

“The warlord bastards are resisting fiercely!”

“Surround them and push in!”

The militia captain issued orders to his subordinates. Loading his automatic rifle, he pointed to the warlord’s lodging and provided justification.

“The journalist has weapons and a mage! We’ve already lost ten men! Let’s hit the warlord first!”

“They have numbers!”

“The warlord is weaker than a mage who can cause explosions! They have nowhere to escape anyway, so kill those bastards first! Hurry, before reinforcements arrive!”

It was a perfectly reasonable argument. Compared to the lodging with a rifle and a mage, the warlord’s lodging with pistols was a relatively weaker opponent.

If they left the warlord alone, armed forces might descend upon the village. Since the surroundings were desert, it would be difficult for civilian journalists and mage bodyguards to escape. Therefore, dealing with the warlord first was safer.

Understanding the militia captain’s intention, his subordinates began fiercely pressing the warlord.

Though called a warlord, unless one is a combatant, ammunition is limited. The pistols that had been fiercely spitting fire were beginning to show their limits.

Meanwhile, I escaped through the back door that wasn’t surrounded and met up with Camilla. I had sent her out of the lodging before the gunfight began, and she had been crouching behind a fence until she saw me and waved.

“Over here. Here.”

“You weren’t caught by the robbers?”

“No. Fortunately.”

Camilla was in good condition. She hadn’t been caught in the crossfire and had somehow managed to hide from the robbers’ eyes.

After calming her down as she was anxious and didn’t know what to do, I observed the village where the gunfight was taking place.

Though the warlord’s side was fiercely resisting to protect Farid, I dared to guess they would soon collapse. After all, even warlords don’t carry unlimited ammunition. And they weren’t the only ones with guns.

Sure enough, the warlord was being overwhelmed by the robbers’ firepower.

Seeing how the pistols that had been firing furiously were now shooting more cautiously, it seemed they were running low on bullets.

Watching the scene together, Camilla tried to appear calm as she began to speak.

“…Shouldn’t we go help them?”

I firmly shook my head.

“I’ve reduced the number of robbers, but there are still many villagers left.”

There are about 30-40 robbers, but the number of villagers is 60. Sixty people is essentially the size of two platoons.

Even special forces would avoid engagement when confronted with two platoons. Special forces are guerrillas who find and strike the most vulnerable points, not Rambo mowing down dozens of people.

The same goes for intelligence officers.

The mission of intelligence agencies is to protect our vulnerabilities and identify the enemy’s vulnerabilities. And then to exploit those vulnerabilities efficiently to bring down the enemy.

Not to kill everyone like James Bond.

“This is why I said James Bond should only be enjoyed on screen. What a mess at dawn…”

I moved with Camilla slowly toward the outskirts of the village. Meanwhile, savage gunfire continued from the village.

While observing the situation from a position near the reed field, a vehicle broke through the fence and escaped from the village with a loud engine sound. It was the vehicle the warlord had been using.

The vehicle that left the village entered the reed field and began driving westward. West is the direction of the city according to the map.

“Let’s go.”

I shouldered my gear and took Camilla’s hand. Despite the cold desert wind, her hand was still warm.

“Where are we going?”

“We’re going to walk to the city.”

“Wait! What about the people?”

Camilla pointed to the village with her other hand. Gunfire was still echoing there.

Looking as if gazing into the distance, I shook my head helplessly.

“Don’t worry about those people.”

“No, Farid…”

“He’s probably already escaped. In that car.”

Just by observing how the warlords were moving in two teams, I could roughly guess the situation.

One team escapes with Farid to a safe area, while the other team holds off the robbers. This was a tactic used by communist guerrillas against Republic of Korea Army pursuit teams to save intelligence officers with important information.

While the escaped guerrillas either returned north or died, the fate of the guerrillas assigned to cover was always similar. Armed guerrillas pursued by combat units were all killed.

And the warlords left in that village would meet a similar death.

I gripped my rifle and looked around.

“One team breaks through the encirclement with the VIP while the other team engages the pursuit team. A method often used by North Korean armed spies. The Kiyen Imperial intelligence units do the same. My first medal was for catching Imperial paramilitary operatives. I know their methods better than they do. My grandfather was a spy catcher.”

“……”

“Now is the time for us to escape. While those people are still holding out.”

Going to help the warlord now would be futile. If Jake or the Royal Intelligence Service operations team were here, I might have engaged somehow, but right now I’m operating alone, and Camilla is with me.

And the reason Leoni sent me here was to secure Camilla’s safety. So I need to take her and run.

For the success of the mission and Camilla’s safety.

“I’m sorry for those people, but there’s no choice.”

I persuaded her again with a resolute voice. We have to go.

Perhaps understanding my feelings?

After hesitating, Camilla firmly gripped my hand and responded with difficulty.

“…Alright.”

“We’ll leave the vehicle in the village and move on foot.”

Losing the SUV that Viktor gave me is heartbreaking, but I can’t risk our lives for just a car.

The gunfire from the village had long since quieted down. The SUV might be somewhere there, but I had all the intelligence we’d gathered.

Taking only the necessary equipment and burying the rest in the ground, we began walking westward, relying on a compass.

*

Walking through the wilderness without a trace of moonlight is no easy task.

Except for the metropolitan area, the country is occupied by Group 1, Group 2, and Group 3 warlords. Although the Al Bas tribe is affiliated with Warlord Hassan, the vast territory managed by Al Bas would fill an entire table even if transferred to a large-scale map.

We are crossing that vast desert.

Since the moon had disappeared, making it impossible to distinguish paths with the naked eye, I had to wear night vision goggles. Camilla carefully stepped where I had walked as I moved in the direction indicated by the compass.

The process of slowly moving toward the city, holding hands, was a series of tedious moments.

As thunder and lightning boisterously displayed their power in the distance, sand carried by the wind brushed against our collars. We moved our steps silently, without saying a word.

The problems we faced during this roughly five-hour journey were mountainous.

It’s not just about the water supply—only one and a half 500ml bottles left—and our exhausted bodies.

This area had so many insects that countless bugs clung to us even while moving just 100 meters. Mosquitoes, flies, mayflies, and more. While mosquitoes become active in summer in South Korea, the Mauritanian continent was much worse.

I pulled up the local traditional headscarf to the tip of my nose and quietly spoke.

“There are so many mosquitoes. Perfect environment for catching malaria.”

“……”

Though I wasn’t particularly expecting a response, the lack of one made me feel strange. Camilla just kept her gaze on the ground as she walked.

Suddenly, memories of my time in Nigeria came to mind. Back then, I crossed the desert with team members, wearing night vision equipment. Not particularly good memories, but still something I could call reminiscences.

The scene in my memory wasn’t much different from the current reality.

The barren land, the thickly grown reed fields, the dust stinging my eyes, and being surrounded by mosquitoes forcing me to wear layers of clothes. Thanks to that, I avoided mosquito bites, but I passed out from heat exhaustion as soon as I reached the safe house.

At that time, a senior who hadn’t properly covered his skin had his limbs severely bitten by mosquitoes. Everyone made a fuss thinking he had contracted some disease. How much we laughed when we realized they were just mosquito bites.

I opened the water bottle, took a sip, and passed it back.

Camilla received the water bottle and briefly moistened her throat. Since we didn’t have the luxury to stop and drink, she drank while walking, but at that moment her head tilted backward and she seemed to lose her balance and slip.

“Aack!”

“Are you okay?”

I caught Camilla as she was about to fall and helped her up.

Embarrassed by her awkward display, she just kept nodding. While I was looking around to calm my startled heart, Camilla, who was massaging her legs, suddenly began to speak.

“…It wasn’t the first time.”

“What wasn’t?”

“The experience of nearly dying.”

Camilla recalled past events in a calm tone.

It was when she was working as a medical volunteer in Iraq. Camilla, along with her colleagues, visited a rural village and was attacked by the residents, she began.

“They were robbers.”

“……”

The moment I heard that word, a hypothesis flashed through my mind.

In war-torn regions, there are occasionally people who plunder aid supplies from relief organizations. Rebels, warlords, terrorist groups, corrupt military and police. While there were many instigators, ordinary citizens were among them too.

The reason villagers turned into robbers was simple.

“They said they hadn’t received aid supplies for several years. After the organization gave supplies and moved to another area, warlords would come and take them away. To avoid confiscation, they needed to hide the supplies somewhere, but whenever news spread that an aid organization had arrived, warlords would come. So they said they would plunder the supplies and hide them.”

I responded calmly.

“It’s a common occurrence. It even appears in movies. Warlords in Somalia plundering aid organization supplies. There was a movie with a helicopter crash. I can’t remember the name.”

Normally, Camilla would recite the movie’s title and plot with excitement, but today was different.

She crouched down, her gaze fixed on a distant point.

“Those people. Later, I found out they were eventually attacked by warlords and there were casualties. They secured the supplies, but the warlords took them by force.”

“……”

“If we had properly helped those villagers then. At least they wouldn’t have died, right?”

I understood the meaning behind her words.

The Iraqi villagers who plundered aid supplies and the Mauritanian rural villagers who engaged in armed robbery were remarkably similar. Though the targets of plunder differed, the purpose was ultimately survival.

I couldn’t easily answer the civilian’s question. Usually, words come easily to me. But at times like this, I find myself speechless.

Perhaps it’s because I bear some responsibility too.

I sighed lightly and spoke.

“There are no ‘what ifs.’ That’s just how the world works.”

“…That’s realistic.”

Camilla suddenly looked up at the night sky.

“Can my efforts change the world?”

“That’s unknown. No one knows how you help others, or who will help you.”

“……”

“But you can try. Isn’t trying something better than doing nothing at all?”

Camilla smiled gently and nodded at my casually thrown remark as I turned to look at her.

“…That’s true.”

“If the break is over, let’s get up now.”

We still have a long way to go.

After tidying up our traces, I took out an energy bar from my pocket and handed it to Camilla. Walking a long distance would consume considerable energy, so we needed to eat when possible.

As we were crossing the desert, munching on chocolate bars embedded with nuts, it happened.

“…?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Stop for a moment.”

I hid with Camilla in the reed field. An alien noise was coming from somewhere.

After listening intently, I turned my head sharply. Camilla also looked at me, startled.

“…Car sounds.”

“Hide.”

I led Camilla to find a hiding place. Hearing water sounds nearby, I found a small ditch flowing. We entered it and crouched down.

The engine sound that had been distant was now getting closer. More than six pairs of headlights approached along a path through the reeds, then began to slow down as they neared us.

I checked the compass. The direction the vehicles came from was east. The direction we had been walking from.

…Damn.

“It’s a pursuit team.”

My prediction was spot on.

Three vehicles appearing from the direction of the village slowed down and stopped nearby. They were worn-out pickup trucks with armed people in the cargo beds.

“Hold the gun.”

“Yes.”

After handing the rifle to Camilla, I rummaged through my gear and took out another rifle. A Kiyen Imperial Army standard rifle with a folding stock. A shortened rifle designed for airborne and special forces troops who infiltrate through air using teleportation magic and airships.

Two automatic rifles aimed at the vehicle convoy. The opponents were armed, but their identities were unconfirmed.

I quietly lowered my voice and spoke to Camilla.

“Illegal weapons are more common here than you might think. You’ve probably seen plenty in Africa and the Middle East.”

“…I know.”

“Since we might shoot innocent civilians, stay still until I signal.”

Camilla nodded and said she understood.

Meanwhile, people in the trucks began to disembark. Thirteen, fifteen, sixteen…. The number quickly rose, eventually exceeding twenty. A platoon-sized force.

I had a bad feeling.

“What are those people talking about?”

“It’s hard to hear from this distance…”

Camilla began to focus on the voices of the gesturing people carried by the wind. Frowning, she translated fragments of their conversation.

“…They seem to be looking for someone. People are asking if this is really the right place… One man is strongly insisting.”

“What is he insisting?”

“That this is definitely the place.”

“Is it a familiar voice?”

I hoped she would say no.

But the world beautifully betrayed my expectations.

Camilla explained that she had heard the voice of the man making the strong assertion before. In the village, that is.

Observing the procession through night vision goggles, I cursed after confirming the face of the man Camilla pointed out.

“…Shit. It’s that militia captain.”

How the hell did those bastards know to follow us here? Did they learn some special shamanic art after a few robberies?

There were no shamans in the village. Maybe they have a magical artifact. Tracking artifacts are used not only by intelligence agencies but also by police. I had handled them occasionally while working in the counterintelligence department under Clavins.

I don’t know what magic they used, but the enemy was certain.

Looking closely, there were women mixed among the robbers. It seemed they had reinforced their combat strength to pursue us.

Amid the robbers making a noisy commotion, I signaled to Camilla.

We moved gradually to widen the distance between us, moving to the sides. More precisely, we moved to firing positions.

The most common way to ambush a convoy is to attack from the front and rear. A CIA friend who served with the US military in Afghanistan often used this method.

After moving to firing positions, we immediately began pouring attacks toward the robbers.

Tatatatatata! Loud gunfire shook the reed field as bullets rained down. Two robbers splattered blood on the headlights and rolled on the dirt, raising dust.

The ambushed robbers began to panic. However, when someone shouted, they immediately started running to find cover.

I took down those who hadn’t managed to hide yet. As the one-sided gunfight stopped and entered a lull, I quickly loaded a new magazine from my chest rig.

That’s when it happened.

“…!”

A bright light suddenly illuminated my night vision goggles.

As I covered my vision with my palm and hesitated, gunfire erupted. It was at that moment I felt a heavy impact on my chest.

“Urgh!”

Shot, I fell onto the reed field. Hearing my cry, Camilla rushed over to support me.

“Are you okay?!”

I felt around my chest. Fortunately, the bullet was stopped by the bulletproof vest.

The Kiyen Imperial Army’s bulletproof vest, capable of stopping even Abas Army rifle bullets, proved its effectiveness.

However, the enemy was still numerous. At least five times our number.

“……”

I put the night vision gear back on. But even with the night vision goggles, my vision was pitch black.

Feeling the night vision goggles with my hands despite not being able to see properly, I found a large dent in the body. Did it get hit by a rock when I fell?

Anyway, the fact remained that I had lost my biggest advantage in night combat. Throwing the useless night vision equipment into the grass, I grabbed my rifle and fired at them indiscriminately.

The enraged robbers also began pouring bullets at us. As bullets fiercely cut through the air, Camilla fired her rifle and began creating flames.

-Whoosh!

The flames instantly engulfed the reed field.

“Let’s go!”

I got up with Camilla’s support and fired my rifle.

Tatatata! After shooting for a while, I started running, and Camilla covered me with her rifle. We alternated providing covering fire as we escaped the engagement area.

I had long since lost my sense of direction. There wasn’t even time to check the compass. The robbers were fiercely pursuing us with their vehicles.

Although I had lost my night vision goggles, Camilla’s flames illuminated the darkness. As I fired at the vehicles pursuing us with roaring engines, I muttered with a dumbfounded expression.

“Wait, that’s my SUV.”

Among the vehicle convoy was an old SUV. It was the vehicle Viktor had given me.

“Damn these bastards! They took my car!”

“If you have the luxury to worry about that, run!”

The firepower of two rifles was tremendous.

In the modern era, where the age of knights has faded and the age of magic and science has arrived, automatic weapons are the greatest force ordinary people who cannot use magic can possess. Automatic weapons, which can kill people with overwhelming cost-effectiveness, are the greatest masterpiece of humanity, used by government forces, rebels, terrorists, and even neighborhood thugs.

Although regular armies are focusing on developing new weapons rather than magic, this doesn’t mean magic has fallen behind the times.

When does magic shine on a battlefield filled with gunfire and shells?

The answer was the flames illuminating the desert night.

-Whoosh!!

In conventional full-scale warfare—that is, on large battlefields where field armies clash—magic doesn’t exert great power. No matter how well-trained a combat mage is, they cannot withstand the firepower of an artillery unit. It takes 20 years to train a mage, but only a few weeks to train an artilleryman.

However, in local conflicts and low-intensity disputes—when battalion-sized or smaller units engage in combat or fight guerrillas in irregular warfare—magic boasts tremendous power.

In small-unit combat, there are no means to counter combat mages. Without the support of mortars or field artillery, it’s not easy for riflemen to face a skilled combat mage.

This was a fact proven by the regular army’s organization, which always includes combat mages in reconnaissance and patrol units, and by numerous engagements between Abas Army and Kiyen Imperial Army special forces in no-man’s land.

Just look at when terrorists used black magic to take a department store hostage. When the Imperial Army special forces engaged in combat near the uninhabited village where the terrorists lived, they overwhelmed the Abas special forces with magic, and it was only when the Abas artillery unit watching the uninhabited area fired shells at the Imperial bastards that they were barely able to escape.

In other words,

“A mage! There’s a mage over there!”

“Fire! Run!”

“Don’t bunch up, scatter!”

As long as Camilla is here, the robbers cannot defeat us.

Theoretically.

Camilla, who had been firing magic, spoke with a perplexed voice.

“The reeds are too tall! I can’t see where the enemy is!”

The reeds were so tall and thick that a person’s form would be completely hidden just by slightly crouching. In the darkness without even moonlight, flames erupted, but the other side seemed to be approaching with widened intervals, aware of the mage’s existence.

There’s no choice. We have to set fire to everything around us.

My body suddenly staggered to the side as I pulled the trigger.

“Kugh…!”

I gritted my teeth at the pain in my forearm. Looking at the wound illuminated by the flickering flames, I could see the entry and exit wounds where a bullet had passed through.

It didn’t seem to have damaged the bone or major arteries. After tying a tourniquet, I fired my rifle at the figures moving through the reed field and shouted to Camilla.

“I’ve injured my arm! Can you reload for me?”

“Got it!”

Camilla took the rifle and magazine and quickly reloaded. Meanwhile, I fired my pistol.

I began discarding gear as I retreated. Bulletproof vest, chest rig, military pack…

When the rifle returned to my arms, I fired again, and when the bullets ran out, I asked Camilla to reload again. She not only took magazines from my chest rig but also pulled out the magazines she had been carrying.

After exchanging the rifle a few times, I asked Camilla a question.

“How many are left? Bullets.”

“…This is the last one.”

Camilla removed the magazine from her rifle and inserted it into mine. Though her expression was hidden in the shadows, Camilla’s face wasn’t particularly bright.

After firing every last bullet, I discarded the rifle and drew my pistol. Camilla, who had been firing magic at the robbers, took me and hid in a ditch.

Leaning against the ditch, I thought that Viktor had indeed sold me proper goods. The bulletproof vest that was supposed to stop rifle bullets admirably blocked the outdated ammunition, and the automatic rifle and grenades had served their purpose well. The night vision goggles too, of course.

“……”

How many had I killed? By now they should be giving up and turning back.

Though I wasn’t on speaking terms with the robber bastards, I wanted to beg them to go back to the village if given the chance. But they were persistently tracking us.

As I inserted the last remaining magazine into my pistol and caught my breath, a familiar voice penetrated the reed field and reached us.

“Give up!”

“The militia captain…?”

I let out a hollow laugh. That bastard is still alive.

The robbers who had hidden in the reed field shouted with their voices from a distance. Come out and surrender. We’ll spare your lives. Time is on our side. That was roughly the gist.

I instinctively sensed that this was an ultimatum. Actually, it was laughable to offer surrender after such a messy fight. They’d kill us anyway if we went out.

Camilla looked at me with anxious eyes.

“…What should we do?”

“What else? We go all the way.”

I took out a grenade from my pocket and threw it forcefully beyond the reed field. Boom! An explosion sounded, and chaotic screams echoed across the barren reed field. That was my answer.

Watching this intently, Camilla raised flames as if saying “whatever.” Though not as fierce as the Duke’s blue flames that burned demons, it was enough to engulf the reed field.

In the burning reed field, we prepared for our final battle, looking up at the night sky from the ditch that had become as bright as day.

At that moment, a warm sensation began to be felt on the back of my hand. Looking down, I saw Camilla’s hand overlapping mine.

I firmly grasped that hand and gripped my pistol.

“So this is how I die. Without even experiencing love!”

Camilla shouted playfully.

From Camilla’s demeanor as she shouted, I could sense her anxiety.

With a pistol in one hand and Camilla’s hand in the other, I looked at the reed field. Beyond the rising flames, robbers were sporadically passing by, gradually tightening the encirclement toward the ditch.

Observing that scene silently, I chuckled.

“……”

“…Why are you laughing?”

“Nothing. Just because.”

I put down the pistol weakly and continued my answer.

“It seems today isn’t my death anniversary.”

Camilla’s head moved, following my gaze.

Far away, beyond the reed field, on the road to the west.

Countless lights were rushing toward us.

*

At first, they were small lights. Lights that appeared smaller than fireflies gradually grew larger and then split into several.

More than ten vehicles.

The vehicles that approached rapidly didn’t even slow down. Breaking through the rising flames, they didn’t even sound their horns.

Instead, they just poured bullets.

-Tatatatatatatata!!

The heavy machine guns mounted on the vehicles spat fire toward the robber crowd. The bullets that tore through the reed field found the robbers hiding inside and tore them apart one by one.

Witnessing that brutal scene, I covered Camilla with my body and hid in the ditch.

“Get down!”

“Oof!”

After enthusiastically pouring bullets, the vehicles stopped on the completely burned reed field. People armed with guns jumped out of the vehicles illuminating the surroundings with powerful headlights.

They delivered merciless violence to the robbers crawling out of the reed field. The bastards who instantly received crossfire rolled on the ground like SpongeBob.

And not long after, they arrived at the ditch where we were hiding.

With intense light pouring from all directions, Camilla and I raised our hands with narrowed eyes.

“……”

As my eyes, which had adapted to the darkness, gradually regained sight, I began to see the people’s forms.

They were holding automatic rifles. Though not in great condition at first glance, the shape was clearly that of a Kiyen Imperial Army automatic rifle.

After confirming the weapons, their clothing also came into view. Mottled military uniforms now phased out in Fatalia. They were wearing something resembling woodland camouflage. Plus, they had military boots.

Military uniforms. Military boots. Automatic rifles.

The three words quickly combined in my mind, and one conclusion emerged.

I hastily threw away my pistol and raised both hands high. Then I shouted in the Mauritanian continent’s common language.

“Don’t shoot! I’m a foreign journalist!”

I didn’t care about the robbers anymore.

A more serious situation had arisen.

The people who arrived at the scene were soldiers. That is, government forces.

Surrounded by government forces, I thought to myself.

We’re fucked.