The creak of treads mingled with the cicadas along the roadside, yet the squad returning victorious was deathly silent.
Not long ago, they had cooperated with infantry riding in wheeled armored vehicles to raid a village at the foot of a mountain.
There were barely a few decent houses in the entire village. The only valuable things were a diesel generator and a tractor bought from the Velanders.
Credit to the reconnaissance boys for finding this godforsaken place.
There was not even a proper road from Miryans County to this village.
Of course, what was even more hateful were those Boro soldiers.
Those bastards had left their looted equipment and supplies here, even inciting the villagers to attack them. They had no choice but to fire on the villagers...
At least thinking of it that way gave them some comfort.
Carver still remembered how, on the way to the battlefield, the squad's gunner Walk had kept shouting that he would break his "111" record. Radio operator Jessden and loader Joe had even argued red-faced over which bar in West Sail Harbor had the prettier girls.
But now, Walk was mute as a stone, not saying a word, much less mentioning how many he had killed.
Jessden and Joe were still chatting now and then, but their stiff topics were so awkward that they made everyone want to curl their toes.
In the end, only their commander Buck remained as silent as ever, always doing what needed to be done and saying what needed to be said.
Carver suddenly recalled that it had seemed the same back in Eternal Night Harbor.
Everything seemed to have changed, yet nothing seemed any different...
For a moment, a thought Carver had never entertained before surfaced in his mind.
If he had not picked up