The Molotov Cocktail struck the corner of the wall with a deafening bang, making the entire gymnasium tremble.
"Holy shit, that powerful?"
Lumiere stared blankly at the ear-splitting explosion before her, wondering what exactly Ursus vodka was made of.
Forget ninety-six-proof Aqua Vitae—was that thing filled with nitroglycerin!?
"Sonia, behind you!"
After her brief existential crisis, Orson's voice suddenly echoed directly inside Lumiere's mind.
Resonance Beyond—a power that allowed direct communication within a certain range without any medium.
"Haah!"
Lumiere spun around, dodging the dagger slashing at her from behind, then instinctively kicked the mercenary square in the jaw.
At the same time, Orson dropped from the ceiling and summoned Rest Note, piercing the arms of three Sarkaz mercenaries hidden among the students before he even touched the ground.
"Miss me, boys~?"
W descended from another corner after setting off a Shaped Charge. While still in midair, she pulled the trigger toward several corners, then landed steadily atop the mercenary beneath her. The nonlethal concussion grenades simultaneously robbed every nearby mercenary of the ability to move.
"Rest Note—"
Orson brought down the fifth Sarkaz mercenary attempting to press the detonator, while a mercenary farther away took the opportunity to aim a crossbow at him.
"In your dreams!!"
Thud!
Before he could pull the trigger, Lumiere shouted and hurled a crossbow she had picked up at random. It struck the mercenary square in the face and knocked him down instantly.
Thanks to Lumiere's initial wave of "drawing fire," the ambush went even better than Orson had expected. Dozens of mercenaries formerly under W were all taken down.
"Orson? What's going on—"
With the immediate crisis temporarily resolved, Lumiere asked Orson in confusion.
"It's not over yet."
W cut Lumiere off, raising the grenade launcher in her hands toward the gymnasium's front entrance. Almost at the same time, another group of Sarkaz mercenaries rushed into the gymnasium.
"...W?"
The leading mercenary recognized the cockroach-haired girl before him, his tone somewhat confused.
"Any thoughts on this touching reunion? Of course, no need to answer. I'm a Sarkaz too, after all. In short—will you stop here, or do you want me to wipe you all out?"
W knew very well that the path she upheld would only be called an "unrealistic ideal." These Sarkaz, born for war and slaughter, would only charge toward the battlefield again and again. They did not care about their own lives, honor, dignity, or names.
After all, the only heir who had cared about such things had already closed his eyes forever.
W had prepared herself to fight the comrades she had once lived and died beside, but what happened next completely exceeded the mercenary's expectations.
"What are you talking about? We thought the Rostov family had already killed you! Your safehouse was destroyed, and there was blood everywhere. We came to take revenge... Wait, isn't that guy beside you a mercenary bodyguard for the Rostov family!? Brothers, take this bastard out! W, hang in there!"
"Huh?" "Huh?"
W was a little dumbfounded. Take revenge for her? What were these people talking about?
Orson was even more dumbfounded. Why was he suddenly being hunted again for no reason?
Lumiere was also somewhat dumbfounded. Had she shown up at a really awkward time?
The unfortunate mercenary beneath W's foot was also a little dumbfounded. He had been stepped on for ages—had everyone forgotten about him? Though it weirdly felt kind of good, so never mind~
The students who had been tied up as hostages were equally dumbfounded. What the hell was going on? Had Ursus finally started offering courses like "Simulated anti-terrorism operation/Real-life experience of the Russian Bear Rescue Law"?
The two sides stood facing each other for quite a while. Everyone vaguely realized something seemed wrong with the script, but no one dared to be the first to ask exactly what was wrong.
In the end, Orson was the first to say to W, "The guy under your foot has gone red in the face," which finally got the nearly frozen atmosphere moving again.
Although Orson received another glare from that mercenary afterward, the man's expression clearly conveyed, I was enjoying myself just fine, so why the hell did you have to butt in?
After a brief explanation, most of those present finally understood what had happened.
Completely unlike what W had imagined, the mercenaries who had once followed her had accepted this insane mission not because they "craved battle and wanted to survive desperate circumstances to prove the purity of their Sarkaz bloodline."
Quite the opposite. They had taken the mission to avenge "W, who had been brutally killed by the Rostov family."
"That bastard Garson—hahaha, this is a lot more clever than his usual missions, isn't it?"
After figuring out the full story, W let out a chilling sneer.
Garson/Baikal had first used an ordinary mission to send W's squad away. Then, while W was alone, he tracked down the mercenaries of W's faction to find her safehouse and fabricated the appearance that W had been killed by the Rostov family.
Afterward, Garson used the illusion of W's death to incite W's faction members who had just returned from their mission, using "drag all of Chernobyl into the water" as a means to exact revenge on the Rostov family.
It had to be said that this scheme of killing with a borrowed knife had worked exceptionally well. The Third Army Group had gained ample justification to march into Kazimierz City, and these Sarkaz mercenaries—even W herself—had nearly been kept in the dark and played right into his hands.
"You lot—never mind that you actually believed that nonsense about me being dead. You idiots really wanted to avenge me?"
W questioned the mercenaries who had fought beside her, wearing the same smile as always.
"Forget it—seriously, you're all like idiots."
W had no intention of receiving an answer. She waved her hand, signaling that the subject was over.
Perhaps it was only an illusion, but Orson noticed that for a brief moment, the smile on the Sarkaz woman's face did not seem to be fake.
The "terrorist attack" meant to kill with a borrowed knife had failed to cause any greater damage through the efforts of W, Orson, and Lumiere's explosive Molotov Cocktail(?). Only a few unlucky students in the gymnasium had been caught in the concussion grenades and falling chunks of cement.
"Deputy leader! We caught a few students trying to run awa—huh?"
"Put me down! If you've got the guts, fight me fair and square! I can easily knock out your front tee—huh?"
"I told you countless times, Rosaline, don't touch those buttons before you understand how the radio works...! If Sonia hears that we got caught because 'the walkie-talkie suddenly played a ridiculously loud junk-collection advertisement,' she'll definitely scold us to death—huh?"
"Ah, Orson, you came back to class!"
Once the dust had temporarily settled, several mercenaries suddenly entered the gymnasium carrying Bear Squad members whom Orson knew all too well.
Summer, Truth, and Gummy were being carried by the Sarkaz mercenaries like grocery bags, and when everyone came face-to-face, they once again stared at each other wide-eyed.
"Oh my, so we're all on the same side! So this was an anti-terrorism drill?"
After hearing the whole story, Summer nodded, indicating that she understood everything.
Just how carefree is this girl...!?
The students who had yet to recover from their fright complained internally.
Worth noting was that Truth, from the group that had seized the radio, provided Orson with a subtle piece of intelligence. While studying how to use the radio, she had accidentally heard the voice of Marquis Boris, the Mayor of Kazimierz City. Though the signal had been extremely garbled, Truth had barely made out one message: Marquis Boris seemed to have abandoned Kazimierz City and was preparing to leave.
Would Duke Baikal really let Boris run away just like that? It made no sense, unless Marquis Boris and Baikal had reached some sort of deal.
Before Orson had time to sort through the implications of that information, a piercing police siren suddenly rang out right beyond the school gates.
W and Orson both frowned. Clearly, these police officers had been specifically summoned here.
"That asshole Garson. If he put even half as much effort into his regular missions as he does into these little tricks, I probably wouldn't want to kill him so badly."
W shrugged and looked at Orson beside her.
"So, what are you planning to do? I can cover your escape, Sir Knight."
"No choice. For the sake of what comes after this war, I definitely can't obediently sit in a cell right now. Besides, I don't think Baikal's people will let the media spread the truth. In the eyes of ordinary passersby, Peterheim Middle School is probably still under the control of a group of vicious terrorists."
Orson did not think that if he simply surrendered, he could just wait for the Rostov family to explain everything after being arrested.
"Getting ready to attack the police, oh righteous and glorious Lord Orson?"
"I've never been a representative of the light. I'm the one who embraces darkness. Being labeled a terrorist who attacked a school suits my identity perfectly, doesn't it? As for the rest, leave it to her."
Orson smiled reassuringly. He knew perfectly well that he had never been some righteous and glorious person. Rather, he was the "necessary evil" who had to help Talula block the things lurking in the dark.
At the same time, on another "battlefield"—
"Everyone gathered here should already be very clear on their own goals and needs. Regarding the terrorist act at Peterheim Middle School, perhaps you believe your children will not be affected."
In the main hall of a luxurious villa, Talula paced slowly before dozens of nobles and wealthy merchants, her tone cold and beyond dispute.
"Is that truly so? When you see your children's corpses, when you realize there is no longer any place for you in Kazimierz City, when a machete is pressed against your forehead—"
"Will you still think you chose the right side?"
Talula smiled, but there was not the slightest warmth in her eyes.
Like... a cold-blooded black snake.
There is an illustration here. It can be viewed after updating to the latest version.
After posting chapters at work, I took things a step further and finally started writing at work too()
Anyway, the reason I originally wanted to write this book was because I recently revisited Fire Punch.
Seriously, when Agni's village was burned to ashes in the first chapter, I somehow thought of that part in Chapter 8 of Arknights.
After that, everything followed naturally. With "changing tragedies without making it too power-fantasy" as my main goal, I began writing this book.
If the current progression were viewed as a physical book, this would probably be the "solution segment" near the end of a volume—how to thwart the old nobles' conspiracy, how to get the Reunion Movement on track, how to gather companions... and so on.
The story afterward will still lean toward a lighter tone, though it will not be completely without a main plot.
There are still many stories that can be expanded upon. Lungmen, Rhodes Island, Kazimierz—I feel there are still plenty of interesting ideas to try.
Thank you all so much for your support that has allowed me to write this far. I hope I can live up to your expectations and continue writing interesting stories.
Anyway, see you all tomorrow at 11:30 in the morning!
Stopping a Black Snake for Some Torture
At an Enforcement Team outpost somewhere in the northern borderlands—
"Where are we going to shake down today?"
A man wearing an Ursus military uniform swaggered into the tent and tossed a backpack onto a nearby table. Many crudely made precious-metal ornaments spilled from the bag.
"Whoa, where did you loot all that from? It's rare to see this much haul."
The soldier sitting in front of the transmitter glanced at the backpack and asked in surprise.
"A village in the south. I heard the duke managing that area is about to be impeached, so shouldn't we hurry up and make a profit?"
"You've got some fucking nerve. But yeah, ever since that thing called... 'the Reunion Movement'? That damn merchant association showed up, there's suddenly been a lot less for us to take."
"Damn those bastards. One day, I'm definitely going to arrest every last one of them and kill them!"
This was the daily routine of the border Enforcement Team—they would not bring those villagers warnings of natural disasters or Originium insect outbreaks. They only used their authority to loot remote villages no one wished to govern, filling their own pockets.
Beep beep beep—beep beep—
The telegraph machine suddenly sounded, and the Enforcement Team member seated at the desk lazily picked up the receiver.
"...W-what?"
As he decoded the message, the Ursus man's expression instantly turned incredulous. He immediately checked again to make sure the information from the other end of the telegraph was correct.
"What is it?"
"We... uh, just received an order."
"We can exterminate villages harboring Infected?"
"Starting today, all Enforcement Team operations in the northern borderlands are suspended. Infected and civilians are to be allowed through the checkpoints..."
"—Wait, who issued that?"
"Jointly approved by fifteen noble families, including Kazimierz City and the Rostov family."
"..."
The two Enforcement Team members stared at each other wide-eyed.
Inside the Rostov family's meeting room, more than a dozen nobles sat silently around the table. They had done nothing but sit there the entire time, yet every one of them was already drenched in sweat.
Before you continue