Chapter 34: The Constant Urge to Sacrifice

Matthew suddenly realized that there were simply no other options left!

Should Glynis and I lure the enemy away? Whether we move forward or backward, we will encounter them, and once they surround us, Robin will inevitably be in danger.

Should I charge first? The enemy will riddle me with bullets the moment they see me, and such a sacrifice might not even be worth it!

Damn it, how did we end up in a dead end?

Matthew gritted his teeth. He understood that holding off the enemy for two hours without breaking into a frantic run was already an immense achievement. After all, the enemy consisted of living men, not the dead; they would inevitably change their strategy once they realized something was amiss. Robin’s previous tactics could only delay them, and how long that lasted depended entirely on how quickly the enemy reacted.

Matthew’s gaze shifted to Jennifer, scanning her up and down. Is this person of any use? If they have someone of high rank, she could be used as a hostage. If not...

"Stay close to me," Glynis said to the shop assistant. Honestly, Glynis was also incredibly nervous. Whenever battle broke out, her mind would go blank, her reactions would lag, and she would always end up doing things she would regret later upon reflection.

"Okay..." the shop assistant nodded hurriedly.

Jennifer also instinctively clung to Robin. "You’ll protect me, right?" she asked, sounding frightened.

"Don't worry, I will."

"Do you see that machine? Team leader, you and Glynis go ahead and ambush them from the machines further up; we’ll ambush them from behind this one. There are twelve of them, and we must neutralize them immediately. They are all carrying submachine guns." Robin swallowed, his breathing rapid.

"Are there any more machines further away? We could split into three groups," Matthew suggested. "Let Glynis go further ahead to use her throwing knives. I’ll hold the middle distance—I have grenades. If they break through Glynis’s line, my psychic blast can take out another three."

"Your marksmanship is precise; you can provide cover fire from the back."

Matthew’s previous psychic blast, which had taken out seven men, had been an enormous strain on him. Even with two hours to recover, he hadn't fully regained his strength. Taking out three more was his absolute limit.

Robin pondered this. Splitting into three groups and sending Glynis to the very front? She only had throwing knives; once she used them, the enemy could just toss a few grenades, and she would be finished. Damn it, the team leader still has this mindset of making others clear the path for him!

No, I cannot let the team leader devise the plan, nor can I let him be separated from the others. To him, everyone is expendable.

"Team leader, what is the range of your psychic blast?" Robin asked.

"Thirty meters at most, provided there are no obstacles."

"Understood..." Robin nodded. "Unfortunately, there are no more machines ahead, so we can only split into two groups."

"How about this: you take the lead with your grenades and psychic blast, and Glynis stays with me. I can give her a gun to use."

Robin knew that Matthew’s plan was undoubtedly the safest for himself. However, it was far too cold-blooded. Robin wanted to protect everyone if possible, and even if he failed, he at least wanted to have tried.

"Glynis will stay with you? That works too," Matthew let out a long breath. *If things go wrong, I will be the one to buy them time.*

"Whatever happens, do not leave your cover. If my line of sight is blocked and I can't hit the targets, we’ll all be finished here."

"Team leader, what’s important now is teamwork; we must not lose coordination."

"Let’s aim for a decisive strike. Let’s avoid using the psychic blast if we don't have to."

Robin realized that whenever they faced such dire straits, Matthew was far too prone to thoughts of self-sacrifice.

***

"Oh, there are too many rats here," a soldier remarked impatiently, shooing away the rodents at his feet.

"Bendick, that bacon pasta last night was really good... Do you think if we keep fighting, we’ll be able to eat food that good for lunch and dinner?" Lucky asked with a longing expression. "Oh, Mother Earth above, I love peace, I don't like war. I just want the best meat sauce pasta made from the finest flour."

"Hmm, I don't like war either, and it seems the company commander doesn't either," Bendick mused, then chuckled. "But I do like the enemy's female soldiers. We captured one during a previous mission, and that experience was... truly something..."

"Why are you so obsessed with women? I don't care for women; I only like money and food..." Lucky asked. "You have a watch, don't you? How long have we been wandering around these air-raid tunnels?"

"Heh, of course. This is my father's birthday gift to me, a pocket watch passed down from my grandfather." Proudly, Bendick pulled the watch from his jacket. One side featured a vintage mechanical dial, and the other held a photo of his mother and father.

His father had told him that when he got married, he could replace the photo with one of himself and his bride. Bendick was looking forward to it; he wondered what kind of bride he would marry. Would she be as pretty as the girls at the Moulin Rouge?

*Well, once this mission is over, I’ll go hang around the Moulin Rouge. I met a fallen nobleman's daughter there last time—that was a flavor I savored for an entire month!*

"Mother Earth above, we’ve been walking for two hours!" Bendick exclaimed dramatically.

"Ha... your watch is really nice. When will you give me one?" Lucky’s eyes were fixed on the pocket watch.

"You stupid pig, do you know how expensive a watch is?" Bendick quickly tucked the watch back into his clothes. "My family has owned this for three generations!"

"Oh, that was only expensive fifty years ago. You can buy one for just two thousand Federal Credits now," Lucky said.

"We are conscripts, not volunteers; our monthly allowance is only eight hundred Federal Credits!" Bendick rolled his eyes at Lucky.

If they were volunteers, single and living in the barracks, they would earn four thousand five hundred Federal Credits a month. Although conscripts received wartime subsidies and were provided with food and lodging, it was still far less than what regular workers earned; a normal worker's salary was comparable to that of a volunteer soldier.

Robin had been able to save twenty thousand Federal Credits in a few months precisely because of his status as a volunteer.

"If I had the money for a watch, I’d rather spend it at the Moulin Rouge," Bendick muttered.

"You two, stop whispering," the squad leader called back, glaring at them. "If we actually run into the enemy, are you going to kill them with your mouths?"

"Stay alert, everyone. Keep your spirits up."

Despite his words, they hadn't encountered a soul in so long that the men couldn't help but grow slack. Any job is filled with passion at the start, but without results, one becomes impatient and weary.

*Whoosh.*

Just then, a dark object flew in from the distance.

A sharp-eyed soldier spotted the unidentified item and instinctively shouted, "Get down!"

*BOOM!*

A thunderous explosion erupted, and shrapnel from the grenade scattered, flying toward the men!