WeTried Translations x Flame Comics
Translator/Editor: Hydrogen B
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
Chapter 101: 15. Real Combat Is Standard for Academy Summer Vacation Events (6)
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* * *
-Bang!!
Ivan fired his pistol into the air and scanned ahead. As expected, the Hero Party students could only flinch and crouch, unable to even consider responding.
If they had developed line-of-fire detection, they would have rushed out and attacked the shooter before they even registered the gunshot. That was how superhumans fought.
The method for awakening line-of-fire detection was simple. Strengthen the body with mana, then stimulate the survival instinct.
“Should I change the ammunition after all?”
“...Pardon?”
The agent serving as his assistant shooter broke out in a cold sweat as they asked.
Ivan was a reasonable person, so rather than answer, he sank into thought.
‘Even with a first aid kit, wounds from live rounds can’t be fully healed without a priest’s help. A healing potion would work, but...’
A healing potion was not something he could use on his students.
Ivan was a rational man who knew how to distinguish tools by purpose. This was time for education through appropriately measured trials, not for torturing children by putting bullets in them.
“Captain...?”
“Fire at ten-, fifteen-, and five-minute intervals. Don’t aim for the head. If possible, focus on areas that won’t interfere with movement.”
Ivan issued the brief order and left his post. He had to prepare the next part of the plan.
Things would have been easier if Dmitry or Pavel had been here. With only field agents assigned beneath the highest-ranking commander, the chain of command was a mess.
Ivan let out an involuntary snort.
So he was thinking exactly like a commander now.
He holstered his pistol, pulled out a length of wire, and wrapped it around his wrist. Then he took an axe in one hand and a dagger in the other before looking up.
To begin with, he was better suited to carrying out missions than giving orders.
It was time to return to his real job.
* * *
[Doubt safe places.]
The moment Elphihara leaned against the cover, she spotted a note at head height and screamed.
“Eeeek!!”
The ground behind the rock, which had looked perfectly normal and even ideal for hiding behind, suddenly collapsed.
Isabelle reached out the instant she heard Elphihara scream and barely managed to pull her back up.
“At least they didn’t plant spears or spikes at the bottom.”
“What kind of insane thing is that to say, Oscar?”
“I mean the Annihilation Unit would have.”
“I’m scared of this country now.”
Oscar inspected the trap and nodded. Even he had failed to notice it beforehand.
What made it even more malicious was that it lay opposite the direction of the gunshots. In other words, anyone who tried to use this rock as cover would be led straight into it.
“Is anyone injured?”
“It hurts like hell, but thankfully I can still move.”
“Were you all hit in the back?”
“I got hit in the thigh, too...”
At Aesidis’s words, Oscar glanced at her thigh before forcing himself to look away.
They had all been rolling across the ground so much that their needlessly flowy outfits were caked in mud, making for an intensely distracting sight. Aesidis especially so.
At the same time, he realized something.
At least getting hit there wouldn’t interfere with movement.
Normally, trained shooters aimed for the stomach or chest when sniping. If they had another purpose, they targeted places that hindered movement, like the knees, shoulders, or elbows.
The head was out of the question. Unless one could guarantee a precise headshot, it was too small a target to aim at from range.
That was why basic firearms training always taught shooters to align their sights with the center of mass.
Yet no one in this party had suffered that sort of “fatal” injury.
An ordinary person might have dismissed it with, They’re going easy on us because this is training. But Oscar was an agent who had received specialized training, even if only through the trainee course.
That was why a chill ran down his spine.
‘The agents are too well-trained.’
Firearms training was generally something conscripts learned. At most, others received it as general education. Shooting was ultimately ineffective against truly powerful fighters.
And there had to be more than ten agents in this forest. Perhaps around twenty.
How many personnel would it take to control an entire mountain, predict the trainees’ movements and routes, set traps, and monitor them without rest for twenty-four hours?
And what were the odds that every one of those people could fire from long range, avoiding fatal wounds without a single error?
‘And these aren’t even live rounds.’
The fact that they were not live rounds did not merely dull the trainees’ vigilance. It reassured the shooters as well.
They’re not live rounds. Even if I make a mistake, no one will die.
That reassurance would inevitably dull a shooter’s aim. Considering the number of bullets fired at them over the past twenty-four hours, what did it mean that every shot had struck only its intended target without a single error?
‘Not every shooter here can be one of Krasilov’s elite agents.’
Was this not at least one facet of the hidden strength of the Krasilov Counterintelligence Command?
Even low-ranking agents assigned to train students could make flawless shots regardless of distance, day or night.
And they had enough high-value personnel to spend on a simple trainee education program.
Oscar stared into the forest with grave eyes, then followed the departing group.
* * *
At the northern edge of the operational area, at the 250-meter elevation point located at twelve o’clock on the tactical map.
Ivan slowly raised his head amid the dense summer undergrowth. He had heard leaves rustling together in the distance.
When he focused his hearing to its limit, he could distinguish forty-two species of wild animals by sound. Once one understood that every animal differed in stride length, body weight, center of gravity, and gait, it was a level anyone could reach through training.
Therefore, a sound that shared no traits with any of those forty-two animals could mean only one thing.
A large entity weighing more than one hundred kilograms and walking on two legs had entered this place, where all civilians and personnel had been evacuated. In other words, a human or humanoid.
‘They’re here.’
Since he did not know the other side’s hearing range, Ivan held his breath and slowly rose.
There were no traps or traces nearby. Setting such things up would only raise their guard.
Because this was an environment where distant targets had to be identified by sound, all nearby personnel had also been withdrawn. There was no need to distinguish friend from foe.
Which meant that anyone who crossed the controlled line, where civilian entry was prohibited, was an enemy.
Simple.
Within the forest, within the operational area, he was the only friendly. Every other entity was presumed hostile.
It was the same as any reconnaissance mission. Ivan had never failed one. Whoever they were, they could not be on the level of elite troops stationed at the stronghold of one of the Seven Dragon Generals.
“Is this the right direction?”
A voice carried from afar. Ivan silently climbed a tree trunk and focused his hearing and vision.
Something was moving clumsily through the gaps between the trees and thick leaves.
‘Around thirty. Everyone except two is armed.’
A quiet voice followed.
“There are no traces of humans at all. Are you sure this is the right place?”
“Are you questioning it now?”
“I have never doubted the Eye. But... doesn’t this seem strange? There was an uproar since morning about a dire omen!”
‘Dire omen? A mage? They refer to humans as humans, so they aren’t human. Elves... obviously not. They’re too polite for elves.’
Ivan frowned as he watched the faint gleam of weapons through the forest.
‘No coating over the metal. Either they lack field experience... or they’re a race that dislikes camouflage paint.’
There had been several demonfolk races like that. Some races specializing in close combat refused camouflage paint to display their own version of “bravery.”
Naturally, most of those who made such foolish choices had gone extinct.
Soon, the figures beyond the forest drew closer. At that point, Ivan identified them.
After quickly counting their forces, he slipped deeper into the forest.
“Headquarters, this is O1.”
-O1, Headquarters receiving.
Ivan pressed behind his ear and spoke in a low voice.
“Operation A1-2 is cancelled. C2 Situation has arisen.”
-Confirmed. C2 Situation, correct?
“Correct. Where is the field strike team?”
-Team Seven is deploying.
Ivan recalled the operational map.
If Team Seven was deploying, Team Three would be monitoring while Team Five was on break.
“Notify 5-1. C2 Situation Response Two.”
-Confirmed. C2 Situation Response Two. Execution time?
“Ten minutes.”
-Confirmed. Operation “Crisis Induction” will begin at 1232.
After the final response, Ivan tucked the axe into his belt, took the dagger in his right hand, and stretched out his arm.
* * *
‘The protagonists need to become stronger than they are now.’
‘According to academy genre conventions, it is impossible to strengthen protagonists through training.’
‘Therefore, the protagonists need danger and trials.’
Those had been Ivan’s thoughts when he first formulated the plan.
Taking it one step further led to this.
‘In an academy training camp, it is common sense for enemies to attack.’
Naturally, he had no choice but to reach that conclusion. Ivan was a sensible man.
Adding his thoughts as an agent led to the following.
‘Unless the attackers are complete idiots, it is possible to lure them toward a suitable location for an attack.’
‘If the attackers are competent enough, they can serve as excellent training material for Counterintelligence Command agents lacking real combat experience.’
The potential enemies he could expect were as follows.
The Crown Prince faction, remnants of purged nobles, rebels from foreign countries, international terrorist organizations.
Those were problems the Counterintelligence Command agents had to solve. Yet there was one more predictable attacking force in this academy story.
An enemy force with a long history, from train terrorist attacks to raids on practical classes.
The demonfolk.
Naturally, this was a trial the protagonists had to overcome. The Counterintelligence Command was an intelligence organization, not a demonfolk disposal unit. Contrary to popular belief, the Annihilation Unit had only ever been deployed in a full-scale war once in history.
The demonfolk had to be handled by the protagonists. But the protagonists would believe that Counterintelligence Command agents were protecting them.
And that...
“Couldn’t be a trial.”
A famous masterpiece of a novel from Earth contained a saying.
[If you have enough courage, turn life itself into a trial.]
Put more simply, it meant something like this.
[A trial that cannot kill me makes me stronger!]
Ivan knew that truth was correct. His own life had proven it. And a rational educator should be able to teach trainees the wartime maxims he had learned.
Through proper difficulty adjustment and situation control, carefully arranging only “trials that could not kill them.”
* * *
“Ghk!!”
Isabelle raised her sword toward the source of the sound and took a wary step back.
What kind of bullshit was he trying to pull this time?
Sadly, the image of that kind, warm, considerate, and caring man, not that he had ever been any of those, no longer remained in her heart.
All that was left was a monster who had lured university students out on a vacation date, shut them away in the mountains, and opened fire on them.
This time, though, the situation was different.
The person who stumbled out of the forest with a scream was a large agent thoroughly covered in camouflage paint.
“Wh-wh-what? What is this? Is this training too?”
“Run... run...!”
The agent coughed up a mouthful of blood, staggered, and collapsed.
The party fell into chaos in an instant.
“Eeeek! A-are you all right?!”
The moment Aesidis screamed and tried to run forward, bang. A gunshot rang out, and blood sprayed from the agent’s back.
Another shot followed, kicking up a small spray of dirt at Aesidis’s feet. She screamed and hurried behind cover. It was quick enough to earn extra credit if Ivan had seen it.
“What? What, what, what is this?!”
“Th-they’re live rounds! Everyone, get down!!”
Gunshots continued alongside Oscar’s shout. A groan rang out, followed by the sound of someone running through the forest.
“An attack...? Are all those agents getting taken out right now?”
“I-I think so?!”
Then who was supposed to protect them?
The four looked at one another at the same time, then peered beyond the forest with terrified faces.
Under the bright summer sun, the forest became horribly quiet.
* * *
Footnotes:
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