Retirement Plan Underway

"Reporting, Captain. After receiving your order to remain stationed in place, our squad has now been stationed in Elm Village for seven hours and twelve minutes. We have exceeded the patrol deadline set by the battalion commander by a full three hours. What are your instructions regarding the squad's next patrol mission?" Wendy suppressed the fury in her heart as she questioned this damned superior of hers. Right now, she practically wanted to eat him alive.

Especially after recalling what had happened before, that urge became even stronger.

A month ago, because the squad's captain had disregarded her advice and rashly led the squad into an attack, the Mage Soldier Squad she belonged to had been ambushed by an Allied Forces anti-mage squad and suffered devastating losses. Only she and the captain, who had remained in a safe area at the rear, had survived by luck.

And because the former captain had shifted the blame onto her, she had lost her rank of corporal and been demoted to sergeant. She had stayed in the Mage Soldier recovery camp, waiting for the army to reassign her, and had grown rather disheartened during that time.

It was only three days ago that she received new orders and was assigned to this newly established 14th Mobile Magecraft Squad.

At first, she had still held some expectations.

After all, perhaps in consideration of what she had gone through last time, the higher-ups had exceptionally added the position of deputy captain to the Mage Soldier Squad this time and specifically appointed her to it. That gave her some authority to participate in decision-making and, when necessary, ignore the captain's orders, thereby preventing a repeat of the previous tragedy.

But after officially joining the squad today and witnessing the order issued by John Maslow, her nominal superior—

Wendy immediately realized that she had merely gone from one hell to another!

After all, under normal circumstances, what squad captain's first decision after receiving a mission to scout enemy movements would be to station the squad at the mission location for rest and recovery?

And they had stayed there for a full seven hours!

They had set out at five in the evening, yet it was already midnight!

At this hour, even the Sentinels on night duty in the camp had already rotated once.

Yet their 14th Magecraft Soldier Squad had still failed to complete even the most basic patrol mission. What the hell was that bastard John Maslow trying to pull?!

Wendy could already imagine how dark Olaf, her battalion commander, must look right now.

"Hm? Has it been that long already?"

John looked at his watch in surprise. Seeing that it really was past midnight, he realized where Wendy's resentment came from and guiltily rubbed his nose.

There was no helping it. After transmigrating here, he needed some time to adjust. Besides, his current goal was retirement. If he completed every mission perfectly, then what the hell would he retire for? The Empire would probably work him to death.

Only by being bad at everything would he have a chance of getting fired!

Hm? Wait, fired?

Wasn't this the perfect opportunity?!

An image of a bespectacled beef noodle shop owner pointing at the sky suddenly appeared in John's mind.

His brain instinctively filtered out his usual lewd thoughts, allowing reason to retake the intellectual high ground.

According to his memories, he was currently the top graduate of the Imperial First Military Academy and had also participated in the Empire's commander training program. Otherwise, he would not have been able to serve as the commander of this Seventh Imperial Air Force Elite Magitech Squad as a non-Mage Soldier immediately upon entering the battlefield.

Theoretically, this battle would serve as the higher-ups' test of his abilities.

And if his performance proved unsatisfactory, such as failing this patrol mission—

Then, for someone like him, a deadweight into whom the Empire had poured a great deal of money and placed extremely high expectations, yet who failed to demonstrate the value he ought to possess, he would most likely be transferred to the logistics department.

Then, as new talent emerged, someone like him, who according to his memories only possessed the abilities Magic Eye and Analysis and had virtually no direct combat capability, would probably become scrap and gradually be eliminated by the Imperial Army.

And thus fulfill his goal of retirement?!

To think I came up with something this good. As expected of me—I really am a genius among geniuses!

Of course, this part of the plan still needed careful consideration. The Empire's Inspection Forces were no joke. If they determined that he was deliberately slacking off, what awaited him would not be an honorable retirement, but a military court-martial.

Therefore, he had to find a suitable reason for having stationed the squad here, one that at least sounded plausible on the surface.

John's walnut-sized brain began spinning at high speed, though outwardly he still put on an unconcerned expression and said:

"Although we have indeed been stationed a little longer than expected, it was still within my calculations. I have now organized my thoughts. Sergeant Wendy, you may lead the squad members to carry out the patrol mission."

"Huh? Now? John Maslow, are you joking?"

Wendy's eyes widened as she stared at the officer before her in disbelief, as if she could not understand how he had the nerve to say such nonsense.

Patrolling at night, far from their station and near the combat zone—wasn't that just rushing off to die?

Did her superior really not understand such common sense, something even ordinary Imperial civilians who had never set foot on a battlefield knew?

Was this guy really an outstanding graduate of the Imperial First Military Academy, rather than a brainless idiot?

Fury surged within Wendy. Just as she was about to rebuke him for treating the soldiers' lives like a joke, she met his cold black eyes the next second.

"Sergeant Wendy, may I take that as you questioning my decision?"

John looked expressionlessly at his subordinate. His voice was utterly calm, but it made Wendy feel a chill run through her.

"I believe I have said this before. Regarding my orders, you only need to answer yes or no. As a soldier of the Empire, Wendy Brown, your conduct has greatly disappointed me. If there is a next time, I will consider applying to headquarters for an order dismissing you from service."

"Please believe that, as the top graduate of the fifty-ninth class of the Imperial First Military Academy and a recipient of the Iron Wreath commendation personally awarded by President Tolovsky, I have every right to say that!"

Seeing Wendy's pale face and frightened expression, John inwardly felt a burst of satisfaction as he imitated the posture of a heartless boss from his previous life warning an employee.

But as a gold-medal corporate drone, he also knew that balancing kindness and severity was the long-term way to survive in the workplace. More importantly, if he could not find a suitable reason for his decision, he would definitely be in deep trouble when the Inspection Forces reviewed his record in the future.

So he assumed the posture of examining a subordinate while rapidly working his brain to fabricate a reason. After pondering for a moment, he slowly said:

"However, I also know that you acted out of concern for your comrades' safety. Therefore, I do not resent your actions, but I am dissatisfied with your rash behavior in questioning a superior's decision."

"Second, unlike what you imagine, I made these arrangements based on my own considerations."

"I believe Sergeant Wendy is well aware that our army has been unable to make progress in the Walden Region for a long time. You also understand that patrol missions supposedly meant to search for enemy traces, aside from finding one or two wandering remnants and eliminating them for a little meager merit, cannot fundamentally do anything to advance our war effort."

"The reason I defied headquarters' mission arrangements and changed the patrol time from evening to late night was to use the advantages of Mage Soldiers: they can fly, and because of their small individual size, they can conceal themselves in the darkness and avoid detection. That will allow us to uncover more critical intelligence during the patrol and help the Empire obtain an opportunity to turn the tide of the war."

"That is why I did this!"

Of course, I made all of that up on the spot to fool you. Otherwise, I would have no way to explain myself to the Inspection Forces.

Still, only someone as clever as me could come up with such a flawless excuse in so little time. Anyone else would probably panic so badly they couldn't even piss, heh heh!

As for the possibility that the Mage Soldier Squad would be exposed during the patrol and wiped out, John, being a veteran gamer, naturally knew that was impossible.

After all, according to the game's settings, unless the enemy had prepared an Anti-Magic Device beforehand, Mage Soldiers like Wendy and the others, who could fly above five hundred meters and use large-scale Explosive Magic, were completely invincible in this world.

There was simply no way they could die so easily.

John did want to retire early, that was true, but having received a proper education and having been an upstanding young man of the new era in his previous life, he was not some vile capitalist who treated people like livestock.

If anything, he was the one being treated as expendable material. As a fellow corporate drone—or rather, a former corporate drone—he naturally would not persecute working people like Wendy and the others.

Of course, he could not let them get the promotions and raises they wanted, either.

After all, retirement was his goal. Slacking off was his natural state.

As for the possibility that Wendy and the others would patrol as he said and actually discover valuable intelligence—

Heh, give him a break. He did not even believe that himself. Fooling others was one thing, but could he fool himself with that nonsense?

It was merely an excuse he had casually made up to deal with the Inspection Forces. No matter how stupid the Allied Forces were, they could not possibly be stupid enough to make a move at night, could they?

Besides, he clearly remembered that there were no special events in the Battle of Walden he was currently involved in, at least according to the game's background.

The Allied Forces already held the advantage. As long as they maintained the current stalemate, the Imperial Army would, just as in the game, have its supply routes cut off due to an overextended front and ultimately be forced to withdraw and accept defeat.

The other side would have to be out of their minds to cause trouble at such a critical juncture, much less be discovered by his thirty-man squad by sheer coincidence.

How could such a possibility, even less likely than winning the lottery jackpot, happen to John Maslow? If he had that kind of luck, he would not have transmigrated into this godforsaken world. He would probably be at a foot massage parlor right now, booking his beloved number thirty-eight masseuse to work on his feet!

John grumbled inwardly, then maintained the authority on his face and calmly looked at his doubtful deputy captain.

"Now answer me, Wendy Brown. Do you still have any questions about my decision?"

"I... do not, sir. Wendy Brown has no questions. Thank you for your explanation!"

After hearing that explanation, Wendy still had some doubts in her heart. But sensing the arrogant look in his eyes, as though he were looking at an idiot, she could only suppress her humiliation and nod in response.

"Very good. If there are no problems, then carry it out immediately. After all, the Empire's future rests in the hands of young people like us!"

"As the future of the Empire, even if it is merely a small scouting mission, I hope you will not slack off. So long as all of us work together, the Empire's radiance will one day shine upon every inch of this planet, allowing the entire world to experience the Empire's grace. So carry on with that hope in your heart, Sergeant Wendy!"

John continued the fine tradition of heartless bosses feeding empty promises. With a gratified expression, he stepped forward and patted his subordinate's shoulder, giving her the kind of motivational soup he had seen everywhere in his previous life.

Although every corporate drone in his former world knew that a company's glory ultimately belonged to its boss and had nothing whatsoever to do with expendable workers like them.

But that was only because modern people had lived through an age of information explosion. In this other world, which did not even have the internet, it was a complete dimensionality reduction strike.

One could tell how intoxicating that rhetoric was from the way Wendy, that foolish girl, looked at him. Her gaze had changed from initial disgust to shock and excitement after hearing it.

"Yes, Captain John. Yes, for the Empire, I will certainly not disappoint your expectations!"

After hearing such stirring words of encouragement, Wendy's little face immediately flushed red with excitement, and she could not help feeling ashamed of her earlier disrespectful behavior.

She truly had not expected her officer to possess such conviction.

The decision had clearly been issued only after careful thought, and Captain John had even risked being punished by the battalion commander in order to strive for the Empire's advancement.

Yet she had foolishly questioned the captain's decision. Although the failure of her former captain had influenced her, Captain John was not that idiot. How could she bring the suffering others had inflicted on her onto him?

Wendy, you really should not have done that!

Wendy's heart was full of shame. Just as she was about to apologize to John for her earlier words, his lazy voice reached her ears again the next second.

"Oh, right, Sergeant Wendy. Remember to address me by rank while carrying out missions. Stop calling me captain all the time. It makes me sound like some small fry, you understand?"

"Otherwise, I will consider applying to the battalion commander to send you back for etiquette training. Those procedures are troublesome, so I hope you pay attention next time."

"Yes, Sec-ond Lie-u-ten-ant John!"

Wendy replied coldly, enunciating each word. Then, surrounded by an aura of darkness, she strode out of the room and slammed the door shut behind her, so furious that her teeth clenched with audible cracks.

To hell with apologizing. That bastard John Maslow did not deserve it at all!

(End of Chapter)