I Have Returned, but I Cannot Lay down My Gun

Chapter 700

"Shark 1-1, we've encountered fierce enemy resistance inside the bookstore! I'll cover from the right, check it, Logan!"

"Reloading! These bastards are trying to push in! Throw the Seeker mines! Throw them, damn it!"

"Pulse deployed! Drills in place! Throw the turret! If we keep fighting here, we're all dead! The prisoners are spread from the first floor to the third-floor balcony!"

• "Shark 1-1, two Liker squads of about 20 are coming from the side entrance, heading toward the front. We’ll cover with turrets and drones."

"Damn, now that the others are all dead, they’re finally showing some guts…!"

The Bronx, the northern part of New York City, and Upper Manhattan, which borders it.

In an area spanning over 200 square kilometers, filled with countless buildings, the sounds of gunfire occasionally erupted amidst the ongoing gang conflicts. But the noise coming from City College of New York in Upper Manhattan echoed for kilometers, growing louder and lasting longer than expected.

The urban warfare, the first major operation by Icarus Operators in a big city, was supported by tremendous technology, but ultimately, it was people who had to carry it out.

As someone had said, urban warfare had not progressed since World War II.

The only thing that had changed was the equipment; the clashes between forces armed with guns were still filled with curses, shouting, gunfire, and explosions.

And this was happening after Task Force Dagger’s first ambush had crushed 200 out of 500 enemy escapees.

"These damn… When we get back, I’ll have to write down that we should leave a few holes for the Liker bastards to escape through…!"

"Damn it! Pulse, Pulse! The enemy’s coming from the rear!"

"Enemy grenade—damn, that’s some heavy fire! Someone hit the arm! Damn well done!"

"Logan, the stairs! Hammer and anvil, you know what to do!"

"Yeah, damn it. Let’s go!"

Boom, KA-BOOM!

A grenade that someone had thrown, and an operator who nailed the exact moment with a precise elbow shot. At the same time, the pinless explosive rolled across the first-floor floor and took two or three people with it to their graves.

The fierce resistance from the Crips gang on the first floor had begun. A barricade so well-constructed that not even an ant could slip through, and the news of the other team’s annihilation sent despair to the remaining forces.

However, that didn’t mean the gang was just sitting there waiting for death. The phrase "a cornered rat will bite a cat" wasn’t for nothing.

As a result, the gang started pulling out military-grade explosives and thrown weapons they had scavenged, putting up a full resistance.

Of course, it was all in vain.

"Shark 1-1, we’ll flank to the second floor with Shark 1-2! Don’t shoot as you pass the balcony!"

"Registered on the IFF interface, so go up without worries! Hurry up and do something about those cowardly bastards, damn it!"

"Let’s move, let’s move! Throw the Seeker mines!"

Screech!

The terrifying sound of a Seeker mine rushing ahead in the corridor, followed by a pulse that swept the entire second-floor corridor. Like chocolate chips embedded in cookies, the Liker gang was scattered in every corner of the hallway.

Lorentina, leading the charge, aimed her MP7A2 and began clearing the university building’s classrooms at breakneck speed. The 4.6mm rounds passed through the suppressor, making a strange metallic sound with every shot.

It wasn’t the clean and sharp single-shot CQB everyone knew. It was all-out, chaotic combat.

The key here was tempo. Strike so quickly that the enemy couldn’t even react, punching holes through their bodies before they could regain their senses.

Whether they had body armor or not didn’t matter. The two mutants, with their overwhelming reaction speed and reflexes, could put a hole in five heads before anyone even blinked.

As the two mutants swept through the second floor like a wave, the fighting outside continued.

"Phew, do those damn bastards even know we’re struggling outside?"

"…Do you think the inside’s alright?"

"The ones who made it into the first floor are probably the most battle-hardened. Plus, with two mutants like us, we don’t need to worry. We’ll just kill anyone we see…!"

Bang, bang, bang!

In stark contrast to the stealth operations, the Eagle team was armed with compensators or additional modifiers instead of suppressors, and the noise from their guns was deafening.

While the Shark team assaulted the medical school building from the inside, the Eagle team engaged from the outside. Thanks to that, Olivia, Eugene, and the Eagle team received real-time location data of the enemy from the drones in the sky.

When the firefight paused for a moment, and the escapees tried to move in another direction, Olivia, having aimed from beyond the wall, barely extended the muzzle and pulled the trigger.

The result for the poorly armored escapees was almost always death.

Even if they had body armor, the outcome would likely have been the same.

• "Ugh…!"

• "Damn it, the blood won’t stop…"

• "Where the hell are they shooting from? Damn it…!"

One, two, three.

Most had their heads blown off, while a few lucky ones were hit in the shoulder, chest, or abdomen, and even among them, the luckiest escapees spoke one or two words before dying.

Despite this, the number of enemies was still too many to count on one hand. But no one felt disheartened by that fact.

At least not the operators. They were trained for this.

As the battle raged on, everyone drank from their CamelBaks, fueling themselves with sports drinks to replenish the energy burned by the grueling physical activity of the firefight.

There was no time to chew solid food. But to endure the harsh demands of combat, caloric intake was necessary.

Logan and Lorentina, veterans accustomed to this, drank a thick shake—essentially a high-calorie chocolate bar mixed with milk—while the battle continued.

The two mutants, having completely cleared the second floor, were the first to replenish their energy.

"Phew, damn, my head’s about to explode."

"Let’s go. Looks like the bastards trying to hit us from behind are all dead."

"…Shark 1-1 to Eagle team. We should be able to secure the medical school center in 1 minute. Any anomalies outside?"

"A separate recon team is detected by the drone, lingering around after hearing the gunfire. If the battle drags on… it might get boring."

"Hm."

Climbing the stairs to the third floor in just 2 seconds, Lorentina began mentally calculating when they might need to retreat.

Strictly speaking, the operation was a preemptive strike. Thanks to intelligence provided by Zodiac, a former Liker turned ally, the identities of the enemies in the Bronx and Upper Manhattan had been partially revealed, and Task Force Dagger had come here to cut the head off the snake.

The success so far had been more than enough. Retreating wasn’t a bad option. Pushing on further could bring unforeseen consequences.

Plus, they were running low on ammo.

So, Lorentina made a quick decision.

'…There are about 160 enemies remaining in this facility.'

The question now was, "What will happen if we wrap up the combat and head back?"

And no matter how much she simulated it, the result was the same. The remaining escaped criminals wouldn’t end up in a favorable situation. At best, they’d be absorbed by the Liker gang that came from Brooklyn.

At this point, calling it a day wasn’t a bad choice.

"Olivia, for now… prepare the extraction helicopter. I’ll leave the LZ designation to you."

"…So you’re thinking about wrapping it up? Not a bad choice."

"We’ll clear the third floor and then reassess."

As they entered the third floor, Logan and Lorentina were already moving. And there was no need to explain what would happen next.

Like supernatural beings severing the intangible thread of life, every enemy that faced the mutants collapsed as if their strings were cut.

Though they had already racked up a few hundred kills in just a few hours, the two mutants didn’t let it get to their heads. There was only so much you could do with a single rifle.

"..."

It was indeed an absurd feat for just eleven operators to kill 300 enemies. But that was the end of it. The number of people in the Bronx and Upper Manhattan was well over 50,000, and more than a fifth of them were gang members or affiliated with gangs.

It wasn’t impossible to physically wipe out 10,000 gang members, but it wouldn’t be efficient in terms of time, and it would be hard to expect a good response.

But on the other hand, continuing to strike fear into the gang members by hitting them from all sides was well worth it.

For that reason, the first strike had to thoroughly crush the enemy and, for fear’s sake, withdraw as quickly as possible to make it look like they were everywhere.

The decision on whether to leave some alive would have to be made through discussion.

'…I’m not sure how many of these expected outcomes will actually come true.'

Operations don’t run on hope alone.

She thought that and took a deep breath. By now, the third floor had become eerily quiet, and Owens and the EX squad members, who had done their part as the anvil, were reassembling, exhausted.

The remaining escapees numbered around 130. The facility was thick with blood, gunpowder smoke, and shell casings. The air was so thick it was hard to breathe, and the two mutants wiped the sweat from their brows.

Logan broke the silence.

"So, are we stopping here?"

"Whether we stop or just take a breather, it doesn’t matter. The only thing that’s changed is that the recon team is starting to arrive."

"It’s not like we can’t just leave. I’ll leave that decision to you. But…"

"...But?"

Logan added.

"You’re not the one choosing where Dagger swings the blade, are you?"

"...Ha. You’re right. Does everyone else agree?"

"Shark 1-3 to 1-5, we agree."

Task Force Dagger, Icarus’s first blade.

Understanding Logan’s hint, Lorentina smiled wickedly and inserted a new magazine into her rifle.

Her lips parted.

"Shark 1-1 to Eagle team, enter the building. We’ll wrap this up and leave in 10 minutes."

The sharp teeth in Lorentina’s smile gleamed.

Five minutes until City College of New York became a no-man’s land.

"…Still not asleep?"

"Well, it just turned out that way. Is there something I can help with?"

"I can clean the firearms myself, don’t touch them. Just help me with taking off my armor."

"Yes, understood."

3:00 AM, Central Park HQ.

A helicopter landed on the helipad in the completely darkened park, and about eleven operators stepped out casually, heading toward the debriefing room next to the command center. Applause erupted as they arrived.

Just eleven operators had hijacked two enemy nuclear submarines and erased about 500 escaped prisoners from the world. It was an absurd situation by any measure.

That was why the support officers had been watching the operators’ operations through body cams just minutes before, and as soon as that was finished, they came out to greet Task Force Dagger.

Even Lapland, who had to go to bed, shamelessly inserted herself among the support officers.

As the other support officers returned to their duties, Olivia shot a glance at Lapland and, rather than making her uncomfortable, assigned her a task.

Lapland, trying to act as casual as possible, began unbuckling the gear that was tightly fastened to the operators’ bodies, while taking in the strong stench of sweat and gunpowder that had been built up over the three-hour firefight.

Her delicate fingers fumbled between the gear and clothing, and as she pressed the buckles, the body armor slipped off, hitting the floor.

'…Huff.'

Due to her wolf-like nature, which had a much more advanced sense of smell than humans, Lapland could not help but pick up the lingering scents of blood and the acrid smell of gunpowder. Her heightened senses caught them far more sharply than a normal human would.

That wasn't the end of it. As soon as the armor came off, the faint scent of sweat hidden beneath the blood and gunpowder filled the air. Her heartbeat quickened, and she found herself swallowing instinctively.

Was this feeling a result of longing? Lapland knew better than to think so. But despite her strong sense of reason, she couldn't help but continue acting on her instincts.

The operators paid little attention to it. The reason was simple.

"…Are you feeling better, rookie?"

"Yeah… I’m just a bit dazed. I guess there’s been a lot going on, so I’m a little lightheaded. But I’m not really anxious or anything."

"You're fine. Most people purge their worst memories in the shower, and the gear helps with mental stability. You’re handling it way better than most."

"Yeah, the first time I saw combat, everyone was puking. I’m adjusting well."

It was because of the rookie operator that Lapland was helping with her gear.

Lapland glanced at Eugene and, though she thought it, she realized he didn’t look too bad at all. Far from looking like he was forcing himself to deal with it, he seemed like he had hardly been impacted by the trauma of combat at all.

Unlike mutants like Lapland, who had become more worried after their transformations, Eugene didn't seem to be struggling as much, but Owens had already noticed that Eugene wasn’t as shaken as the others.

"He didn’t hesitate when facing the Likers."

"…Yeah."

"I won’t ask what happened to you in the past. Just keep acting like that in the future."

"Yes."

At that moment, the other three mutant operators turned their heads toward Eugene and Owens as if they had realized something, but the two didn’t seem to care. They just continued removing their armor and holsters.

Task Force Dagger had an unspoken understanding that Eugene's past was tied to the Likers in some way, but none of them voiced it.

After all, every operator had their own hidden pain.

As the war with the Likers continued, it was clear that it would never be fully revealed to anyone outside of those involved. The signal for their long and grueling battle had already been sent, and the first conflict of Task Force Dagger had ended.

It was the moment the beacon was lit in Manhattan.