I looked at the others and hesitated.
"Wild Wolf... this team doesn't need two captains. You take charge."
I glanced at Wild Wolf. He looked back at me, hesitated, then nodded.
"Things aren't looking good... She's apologized, but..."
"Boss, you don't need to say it."
"Boss... we're mercenaries. We took the job, and we knew the risks. This... isn't like you."
"Heh..."
Wild Wolf looked at the others. Mercenary work might leave little room for sentiment, but these people clearly cared about him.
The bond between comrades
was sometimes hard to explain.
"Mm..."
Wild Wolf nodded and looked around at everyone again.
"We're in a bad spot. I don't need to spell it out; you all know. We can't go home. Of course, before every mission,
I arranged for our contacts to look after your families. They should be fine. Besides, Scarface isn't the sort to wipe everyone out."
Wild Wolf looked at the others.
"We'll keep the same formation: three teams, with the same assignments. Team One, follow the river upstream
and scout. Team Three, head downstream. Whether you find an exit or not, turn back after two hundred meters."
Seawater Backflow
"Yes, sir!"
At Wild Wolf's command, the teams quickly split up. Nobody was reassigned, probably for two reasons. First,
changing formations too often could throw off how well the team worked together. Second...
Well, of the ten of us, the two wounded and one person who could barely fight were all on Team Two. That left
the scouting to Teams One and Three.
There was no other choice.
With only one arm, I had less than thirty percent of my usual fighting strength. After all, one plus one didn't always equal two.
Try fastening a belt with one hand, then with two. What one hand couldn't do