I Have Returned, but I Cannot Lay down My Gun

Chapter 684

• "Guardian team, attempting a detour. Numerous enemies have been identified from the first floor beneath the overpass. Requesting fire support until a detour is found!"

"Let’s break it down. First, the enemy’s main goal is likely... resource theft. The cargo on the military trucks aside, it's most probable they’re aiming to seize the equipment and firearms worn by the Military Police Company as well."

"...That sounds about right. Beyond that, it's hard to explain. Even without mortars or SMAWs in the convoy, it’s rare for anyone to charge at well-armed dozens head-on."

"But the fact that such a rare event is happening means there’s a reason or room for it... I think the answer lies with the ones slowly crawling out from below."

One, two, three, four, ten, twenty...

A flood of people starts pouring out from the first floor below. It was like a scene I had once witnessed when I shot at a hornet’s nest during a trip to the countryside.

Luckily, back then, my grandfather had a flamethrower, so even though we were doing something so dangerous, we didn’t have much trouble. The hornets came out furious and turned to ashes as soon as they did.

But today... I wondered if I could stop the many people pouring out from below—still, that thought quickly faded as I opened my Icarus gear-equipped bag.

With a click, the strike drones soared into the sky. As I pressed a button on my bag, it split into two turrets. The linked grenades were a bonus.

Meanwhile, Laurentina activated the pulse, and I picked up one of the turrets I’d placed on the floor, setting it up somewhere behind the rooftop.

Olivia spoke.

"Let’s see your shooting skills, rookie. Check IFF, and for the ones that aren’t blinking, just put a hole in their heads. It’s easier than you think."

"Uh, yeah, I’ll... I’ll try…!"

"Good. Don’t hesitate. Crush them all. They’re attacking the US military."

Her voice, though sounding cheerful, carried anger. After all, she too was one of the soldiers defending America.

I wondered if I would ever feel that way. I thought about it for a moment, but I honestly wasn’t sure yet. At that moment, it didn’t matter. I had to make sure all the members of the 107th Military Police Company below made it out alive.

And those bastards had injured them. I couldn’t forgive them.

With rage overtaking the emotional burden of the battle, I saw enemies moving below through the LPVO (Low Power Variable Optic) scope mounted on my rifle.

The next part was simple.

???Boom!

One enemy fell.

It was different from the time I killed the escaped convict with a pistol.

It was different from when I killed someone with a minigun.

This was my first real kill, done entirely by my own will and judgment.

In Brooklyn, I had almost collapsed from the shock. The second kill had left me feeling bewildered. But this, the third and true first, was terrifyingly void of thought.

Or, to put it differently... maybe I should call it a relief. The fact that one life was erased meant someone else didn’t have to die. That gave me immense comfort.

The next part was simple.

"Ha, huff, ha…!"

I took a deep breath and squeezed the trigger.

Even as I did so, my improved vision scanned the 107th Military Police Company members below, and the scouts looking for a detour with drones.

Enemies hiding behind vehicles, walls, and columns were usually dealt with by throwing the tracking mines in my multi-purpose pouch.

With a dull noise, the bombs rolled and exploded with a scream.

Everything seemed to slow down. It felt like my thoughts were all erased. But through all this, the two of them continued firing and speaking into the comms, adding more orders.

Then, the sound of turret fire snapped me back to reality.

???Rrrrrrrrrr!

"Whoa…!"

"Good thing we installed it on the stairs. I thought maybe one or two would show up, but there’s more than that."

"Phew, this is my first time fighting like this. It’s not like the open field combat I’m used to, so I have to keep track of so many things. It’s a headache. But at least the enemy’s entry points are limited, which is a good thing."

"Same here. I’m originally a VBSS (Visit, Board, Search, and Seizure) specialist."

"Yeah, I figured. This Icarus thing... it’s a mix of the Navy, Air Force, and civilians like you who were just recently added. It makes sense."

"Now, if only we had the Army, it would be a real joint operation... Grenade!"

Boom!

The sharp noise and metallic sound were followed by a change in their expressions. At first, I thought it was a grenade landing nearby, but the truth was even stranger.

I did my best to show no reaction, focusing on firing, but the next words from Olivia completely wiped out everything I had learned.

"...Did you just shoot the incoming grenade out of the air?"

"How did you even see that?"

"My eyesight isn’t that bad. Actually, even now... I can see the enemy pretty clearly without needing night vision."

"Well, in that case, I guess you can help next time. But seriously, how do those bastards have grenades? From the looks of them, it’s like they stole them from a military or SWAT warehouse... damn it."

"Well, if that’s the case, they’re probably carrying flashbangs too, damn it. I’ve already seen enough casualties from dealing with idiots who shoot AKs without aiming, but now I’m having to deal with even worse bastards."

Boom!

While all this was happening, I quickly scanned the surroundings, and fortunately, the enhanced vision combined with the Icarus Gear allowed me to prioritize eliminating the enemy forces holding heavy weapons.

I didn’t know why they had those weapons, but, now that I was somewhat able to understand English, I heard the common refrain among those seeing these weapons: they couldn’t have gotten them from raiding nearby military warehouses.

Whether that was true or not, it didn’t really matter. What mattered was that I knew that if one of those rocket launchers hit a car, it would be bad news.

Luckily, the rocket launcher seemed to function as a sort of... magnet for enemies. If I knocked one down, someone else would come to shoot, and I’d just take them out.

Amid all this, a familiar voice came through.

It was Captain Parkwson.

"Guardian team, we haven’t found another detour beyond Park G. To clear the barricades, we’ll seize the rocket launcher they have, fire it, and destroy the obstacle. Please provide cover."

"Roger. I’ll mark the launcher’s position with the infrared laser from the strike drone. Move quickly."

No detour?

As I thought this, the two of them quickly explained why—Park G, the road where the Military Police Company was located, was one of the few four-lane roads in Manhattan, and also one of the few remaining roads the convoys could use without issue.

The unique thing about this road was that it ran right through the Hemsley Building, but the access road was blocked by abandoned cars.

Their goal was to blow it up.

After explaining this, they asked me.

"Alright, so where’s our next target?"

"...The area with the improvised barricades?"

"Good. It’s time to head down. We weren’t sure if we could do anything under the pressure of real combat, but you’ve done better than expected. Let’s push a little more."

"...Yes."

"Let’s move, rookie."

And with that, the tension eased.

Thankfully, the courtyard in front of Grand Central Terminal was being cleared. The enemy, having occupied the rooftop, was forced to hide or retreat once we launched our attack.

As warmth gradually returned to my ice-cold fingers, the team members began picking up the rocket launchers scattered on the floor and preparing to use them.

The two of them said the remaining enemy forces at Grand Central Terminal would attack the Military Police Company trying to destroy the barricades, and we had to stop them...

I was really thankful to them.

Anyway, the fight had just ended, but we had to move as fast as possible. If we delayed, something disastrous could happen.

I now understood why operators had such immense stamina.

But...

"...Huh?"

Suddenly, a warm feeling in my lower abdomen froze me in place.

The tension and relief from my first battle, combined with all the other sensations, had become overwhelming, and my body couldn’t control it even with the Icarus gear.

And I quickly realized what it was.

It didn’t take long before my face turned bright red.

"Ah, why... why isn’t it stopping, I hate this..."

The unpleasant sensation of wetness spread through my pants.

It didn’t take long before everything went dark, and I covered my face with both hands, lowering my head. Shame and a crude sense of liberation engulfed me.

The two ahead of me glanced at me slightly as I embarrassedly messed up on the ground, and without saying a word, added.

"...Try to keep up as quickly as possible."

With those words, they moved on.

I was mortified.

My first battle memory was stained with urine.

"How am I supposed to console him about that later? Should I tell the guys who've been deployed that they’ve all pissed themselves at least once?"

"Some guys had to deal with the Taliban while jerking off, so... maybe it’s best to just shut up and pretend it didn’t happen."

"I’m just glad I didn’t piss myself, damn it."

Meanwhile, the two leading figures weren’t having much of a normal conversation either.

The night was still deep.

"From here on, we’ve completely deviated from what was originally planned, so we’ll have to solve it on the fly."

"Got any good ideas?"

"Well, it's not really a great idea, but at a time like this, the options don’t need to be overly complicated. The most important thing is to block the firepower that’s targeting the convoy, so we just need to act with that in mind."

"Hmm. So it’s the ‘smack them in the back of the head while they’re in chaos’ strategy. I like it."

...

Their high-level conversation was always hard to follow.

How should I put it? It felt like they had already reached the same conclusion and were just checking it against each other, skipping the intermediate steps. It was almost like a form of convergent evolution.

In that kind of atmosphere, I did my best to ignore the embarrassing liquid-soaked pants. God, I was so ashamed.

While I desperately turned my attention away from reality, the two of them kindly explained their conclusion to me.

"The logic is simple. If we break the legs of these confused friends, the convoy will have no time to worry about anything else. Got it?"

"...I get the idea, but do you think it’s possible with just three... or rather, 2.5 people?"

"This is why they’ve put those Icarus gears on us, rookie. You’ll be joining this team soon enough."

...

It’s... terrifying.

As we quickly moved through the passageway leading up to the ceiling of Grand Central Terminal, I thought about that.

The three of us mutants, including myself, were now crossing the terminal's ceiling passageway. It was a place with an astrological pattern drawn on the ceiling, used for repairs, but now it was a very convenient secret route for people to travel.

The gunfire from outside had completely died down by now.

But the faint voices coming from below the thin ceiling walls were not just a few, they were many, and they were all talking frantically.

There was no point in distinguishing between who to kill and who to spare. We had gone too far for that. At least, that's what these two thought.

...What did they say? "If food has mold, you just scrape it off and eat the rest." Maybe that’s the right way to think. And well, it’s not like there weren’t combat rules.

'...The only rule is "Don’t shoot people who don’t have guns."'

It was a rule I had read about in military manuals—things like warning shots, final notices, warning fire before full combat—but here it was reduced to a simple line.

But in a chaotic world like this, such binary thinking was essential. Honestly, bringing up combat rules in this situation felt unrealistic.

And those two... I wondered how they had so quickly adapted to the new rules of engagement. Plus, since the Icarus gear could scan for whether individuals were carrying weapons, there was no hesitation in their hands.

The result was simple.

???Pik! Pik! Pik! Pik!

With a sound like air leaking out, the .277 Fury subsonic rounds cut through the air slowly.

It was something I had learned about. Reducing the powder charge and increasing the bullet's size. I never imagined I’d be studying something like this, let alone firing it and seeing it pierce through someone’s body.

Whether it was fortunate or unfortunate, it wasn’t me who was leading the charge. It was Olivia and Laurentina.

I didn’t know if it could be called “clearing the way,” but that was what they did. The squad, busy moving somewhere, saw heads explode as they fell to the ground like marionettes whose strings were cut, all in mere seconds.

As the positions of the enemies they marked in real-time appeared in my eyes, they added.

"Throw all the tracking mines!"

My response was quicker than my words.

I scattered the five or six geometric objects, about 3 cm in diameter, from my multi-purpose pouch onto the floor. As they took cover, I also hid behind a cover.

The sound of metal clinking together echoed slightly.

But that didn’t mean the enemies would react. The interior of Grand Central Terminal was dark, with only candlelight and some lighting, and the tracking mines hidden in the shadows crawled up the walls, rolling towards the enemies’ feet.

What happened next didn’t need much explanation.

???Boom! Boom!

"Ahhh!"

"Ambush! Counterattack!"

"Where are the enemies, damn it…!"

It was like watching a movie.

With every burst of flame and shrapnel, one more life vanished from this world. It was disturbingly unreal.

As I watched what was happening right in front of me, I felt like I might throw up. I wasn’t mentally strong enough yet to fully accept this.

I missed my mom and dad.

"Gunfire at Grand Central Terminal! The interior situation is unknown!"

"Surveillance team, see anything?"

"...The drone only shows enemy positions. But... the enemy is dying at an incredible rate."

"Feels like we’re haunted. This Icarus thing... is it some kind of ghost?"

Meanwhile, the 107th Military Police Company.

They were among the first to indirectly witness the combat of the Icarus Operators, and the mutants who were almost the first to be deployed into real combat—of course, those who saw it directly would never be able to report it.

It had only been a week since the Icarus Operators’ rapid response team was nicknamed "Specter."