Codegease: Air and Land Warfare 1946

Page 125

Chapter 132, Section 195: The Young Man Selling Gunpowder

As evening fell, it was time for the brightly lit and bustling areas of the Tokyo Concession to continue their revelry.

Look at the bar in front of them. The two of them stand here looking left and right. The neon sign says "EX Gun" and there is a picture of a gun pointing at the back of a skull. The "EX" in the picture does not have to be associated with "Execution".

The two spent a long time getting ready, seemingly to make sure they hadn't come to the wrong place, before stepping inside.

The bartender was still yawning and wiping glasses when two figures sat down in front of the counter.

"A bottle of corn whiskey, buddy."

"Ok."

"Oh, and three cups, please."

The bartender went to get the items, and the two people sitting at the table looked around the bar, observing the not-too-noisy customers around them.

“So, Mr. Clark.” One of them took off his hood and looked at the other man who still had his top hat pulled low.

"Ok?"

"By the way, you've been getting so close to Yamashita lately, isn't that a problem?"

"Will spending too much time with the people of Japan... oh no, the people of the 11th District, who are most despised by the world, also turn you into the bottom of the social hierarchy?"

"Oh, of course that's not what I meant, sir... I meant, are you comfortable being with him like this?"

"That's his personality, right? What's the big deal? Yamashita used to be the guy who looked at computers and gathered intelligence for you guys. How could he not cause some problems if he sat in that position for so long? It's normal!"

"Well, that's true. Sir, you always avoid us when you chat with him, which is fine... but didn't you know there was something strange on his computer?"

Clark paused for a moment upon hearing this, then smiled and shook his head.

"If you look at his computer desktop, there is a folder. If you click into it, you will find several icons of cute girls."

Clark has been studying for almost a week, and he understands the first few words.

"A beautiful girl? What kind of beautiful girl?"

"Ah, just a few drawn pretty girls, about the age of high school students, with big eyes, multicolored hair, some even with two ponytails." The younger brother laughed more and more as he spoke. "Yamashita said this is what? Oh, a dating simulation game, where you chat with a group of non-existent girls by clicking around with the mouse."

“Damn, this kind of girl? She doesn’t have the air of a mature woman at all…” Clark laughed as he poured the wine that had been placed on the table. “Go on, I suddenly really want to hear it.”

"It's said that he saved these games before Japan went out of business, and the voice acting in the games is Japanese spoken by people from Japan. Some of the more familiar ones are 'Onii-chan' and 'Daisuki,' which are so cute they give me goosebumps..." The young man almost burst out laughing while imitating this tone. "Anyway, Yamashita just laughed when he heard it. But he played these games behind our backs. As for some of them that supposedly have 3D virtual girls showing their underwear and panties under their skirts, I only heard about that secondhand, hahaha!"

Clark laughed along, completely abandoning his airs as a mob boss.

"Damn it! If he didn't know a thing or two about computers, he'd probably be a useless piece of trash in our eyes."

"We've all learned a phrase to describe people like Yamashita from Japan: Let me tell you, shut-ins are disgusting!"

"Disgusting! Disgusting!" Clark couldn't stop laughing, and he spilled his wine.

……

After they finished laughing, they found the bartender staring at them blankly—Clark then realized that he seemed to be of Asian descent.

"I...I'm sorry to bother you..." the bartender stammered, turning his face away and then yawning.

"Tch, probably just another 'disgusting shut-in'." The younger guy looked at him disdainfully, took a sip of his drink, and added, "Maybe he even enjoys building harems, fantasizing about a bunch of beautiful women..."

Clark stopped his tongue and quietly sprinkled a small packet of powder into the third glass of wine, stirring it a few times.

"Hey! Kid!" he called to the bartender, pushing the glass forward. "Working hard tonight must be tiring."

The bartender didn't answer, glanced at him, nodded, and went back to his work.

"If your boss finds you dozing off on the night shift, he'll dock your pay, right? How many times has it been docked for you?"

The bartender suddenly turned his head, a little angry and a little curious.

“If you’re not a closed-off person, or rather, if you don’t want to be a lonely person, then you shouldn’t easily refuse to trust others or refuse their kindness, right?” Clark continued to push the drink forward. “If you want more money, I can guarantee that after drinking this, you will achieve that wish.”

"Oh, it's on me. Don't worry about your boss using this to trick you, I'll back you up."

The bartender hesitated before stepping forward, but Clark simply spread his hand out, placing it under the glass like an invitation to dance at a ball, until the bartender picked up the glass and drank it all in one gulp.

"Thanks, you can go back to work." Clark turned around and started chatting with his younger colleague again.

"What did you just say? Harem building?"

"Come on, sir, let me tell you about the daily life of the people in Area 11." The young man continued, "They always liked to do things like, ah, let's say, a boy, not outstanding, even a complete loser. And guess what his backstory is? Damn, a whole bunch of girls of all kinds are all around him. He either has some special meaning or use, or more directly, nothing at all, but the girls still chase after him like crazy, doting on the male lead more than a mother dotes on her son."

"Pfft, cough cough cough!" Clark choked. "What the hell... If you were a male protagonist with ability, you could accept it if you worked your way up and achieved your goal... But this bunch of girls are just throwing themselves at you like they're free, how is this more unrestrained than when we're fighting a war and dropping cannons and bombs?"

"Of course, there are exceptions. For example, there's a game where the male protagonist's bad ending is that he gets stabbed to death after having an ambiguous relationship with two girls. But most of the time, they go to extremes and make things even more exciting, like starting a harem and having his own sister involved... Last time, I secretly watched Yamashita play two of them. I don't remember the details, but I do remember that one of the male protagonists had a sister with white hair who always carried a black rabbit, and the other had a sister with red hair and pigtails who always had a lollipop in her mouth."

"Never mind, as long as he's happy..." This topic should be over, and Clark began to turn his attention back to the bartender.

……

No, now we can call him a "clinical trial subject" or a "guinea pig".

……

"Hey! You..." At that moment, a man who looked like the bar boss walked behind the counter.

"Sir!" The bartender suddenly stood up, startling both the BOSS and Clark.

"What's wrong? Have you finished making the drinks I asked you to mix?"

"It's all ready, it's all ready!" The bartender looked like he was sweating profusely, his eyes were wide open, and he spoke unusually fast. "Is there anything I can do for you, sir?"

"Go to the back and help move things!"

Watching the bartender rush out in a flurry, the BOSS looked surprised. At this moment, another waiter came over, staring at Clark, and whispered a few words in the BOSS's ear.

Clark's younger brother looked a little uneasy. He put his hand on Clark's shoulder and smiled slightly.

"Sir, is it convenient to talk?" Now the BOSS came to him.

"Okay! Come on!"

"You may not know our rules: customers are not allowed to give staff food or drinks of unknown origin without permission. My employee said you put something in the bartender's glass just now. May I ask if I can conduct a search?"

As he spoke, several burly men rushed in from the back of the bar and surrounded Clark.

"Relax, buddy, I'm not here to cause trouble. You want my stuff? Sure, here you go." He placed his packet of powder on the table, then slowly took off his hat and exchanged a glance with the BOSS.

"You! Uncle Sam!" The BOSS's expression changed drastically. He suddenly pulled a gun out of his inner pocket and pointed it menacingly at Clark's head.

"How dare the leader of the bald eagles trespass on our territory like this?!" The patrons in the bar were terrified and scrambled under the tables. It seemed a tragedy was inevitable.

"I had no malicious intent to cause trouble. As for the incident where I robbed your place of alcohol, I apologize. But sir, I wonder if your boss is more distressed about losing a bunch of cheap liquor or a treasure trove?"

The boss watched as Clark raised his hands, spread out his position, and turned his head toward a glass display case by the aisle of the bar—inside was a Japanese sword, its scabbard and blade resting on two separate lines, covered in blood and mud, and most importantly, its scabbard was wrapped with a tattered Japanese flag.

"There are many ungrateful people from Area 11, and many Britannians who despise people from Area 11, but I think that apart from soldiers who love the battlefield and honor, no one would leave something that looks too much like a trophy here without even wiping it clean."

"Ha, do you want me to take you to meet the owner of this knife and chat about how they live in hell?"

"You used to be a soldier, or your boss was a high-ranking official in the military or government, right?"

"Hmm?" Clark's words made the boss hesitate.

“There is one word in every soldier’s military career: life. You have to protect your own life and take the enemy’s life. If you can’t be fully focused on the battlefield at all times, you will be the one who gets killed.”

"Idiot, you're about to die and you're still spouting nonsense. I'll rip your stomach open like I did that bartender, understand?"

“Then sir,” Clark continued, “if you think bartenders have to be this energetic and dedicated, what about soldiers fighting at night? Whether it’s to overcome fear or to relieve fatigue, a bunch of excited rookies is better than a king who’s exhausted.”

The boss hesitated, put the gun away, and told the thugs next to him to put away their sticks, chains, and other weapons as well.

"Please come this way to talk."

……

“I know you, sir. You have powerful figures in the Britannian army. Destroying me would be a piece of cake. So why bother with each other? I robbed you of the wine because I was afraid you wouldn't notice me. And if you only brought a follower here, then this is just a transaction.”

"So what do you want? Uncle Sam?"

"Ask your men, ask their troops if they need this kind of stimulant that can keep bartenders moving bricks all night and might even make soldiers want to attack all night. I'll give you an address later."

"'Gunpowder'... Ha, this is your work?" The shopkeeper looked at the handwritten words on the powder bag.

“I was in the army too. Victory and life are more exciting to us than the side effects of drugs… Keep this package. Oh, and by the way, if this bartender gets too excited tonight, give him this injection.”

Clark left behind the vial of medicine and the syringe, intending to leave the boss alone as he turned to leave.

"Wait a moment."

"Ok?"

One last thing: how will you pay for your drinks?

"This packet of medicine is worth how many Margaret's? Do you want me to calculate it for you?"

"Ha, do you think this is the age of barbarians, trying to play the game of equivalent exchange with me? Or are you planning to swallow the pill and act like a barbarian, throwing a tantrum?"

“Barbarians, hmm…” Clark nodded. “Barbarians disregard the rules of law and plunder by force; barbarians are fond of killing and lawless; barbarians are fanatical and violent and know nothing of civilization; barbarians greedily plunder every bit of wealth and treasure they want, and even kill each other, letting blood flow all over the world.”

Slowly, he lit a cigarette, and as he turned to leave, he uttered his last words.

"And you still don't seem to understand, this is what we civilized people do on the battlefield..."

Chapter 133, Section 196: Heaven is about to bestow a great responsibility upon this person.

The Oder River is not particularly turbulent.

However, the soldiers busy along this riverbank displayed a different kind of race against time than the former.

The soldiers standing guard nearby couldn't help but feel anxious—almost a month ago, they had stood on this riverbank, quietly guarding the railway bridge that spanned Kostchen.

Now, all they can watch over, besides the hopelessly broken bridge piers, is this pile of "new bridge" slowly disappearing before them—a pontoon bridge previously built on the orders of the generals, now being dismantled by Soviet engineers.

Who would have thought that this pontoon bridge, built only two weeks ago and used by fewer than a thousand trucks, would be forced to be taken down now? It seems this battle...

The engineers placed the last plank, pulled out the last nail, sighed helplessly at the earth echoing with a dull thud on the west bank of the river, and withdrew to the east bank, behind the Soviet soldiers' positions.

Following the red military flag that had just been pulled from the Soviet positions on the west bank, together...

Silently listening to the roar of shells and warplanes whizzing overhead, crashing into the unknown German soil...

……

At that very moment, in the city hall of the Tokyo Concession, Prince Schneizel heard some very good news.

"Your Highness, Duke Sasler has sent word that they have essentially recaptured the eastern salient of Berlin that they lost a few days ago. They have succeeded!"

"Really?" The prince chuckled softly, seemingly unconvinced. "Is the information reliable?"

"Ahem, this time it's truly reliable, Your Highness. The Duke can assure you that, apart from reckless artillery shells and overworked warplanes, the enemy has nothing that will make Your Highness feel your feet tremble when you walk in the occupied territory."

"So, do you think this is good or bad?"

"What the Duke means is that we have made things much better than during the Great Airborne Operation. Although we can't get close to the river, the Soviet defenses on the perimeter of the salient have become worse than before, and we have even broken through many of them without much effort. They judge this to be a sign that the battle is going in their favor."

"It seems the purpose of this new reinforcement is to completely drive the Soviet army out of the 100-kilometer radius of Berlin, rather than to secure the Berlin landing zone." Schneizel finally smiled. "As they say, pressure is what drives motivation."

"Alright, that concludes your report." The prince slowly rose from his seat. "Now, I must meet with my guests."

"A guest? Nobody told you where he is. Do you know him?"

"You're coming with me this time, Colonel."

……

The colonel accompanied the prince to an exhibition hall outside the city hall. Although the colonel didn't understand the prince's purpose, he did know what the hall was for—it was temporarily used to display a large number of weapons that the expeditionary force had collected and captured from Soviet soldiers, for officials and generals to view. Of course, there were also some American weapons that the vanguard had initially obtained.

Before the colonel could even push the door open, the prince unexpectedly shouted loudly first.

"Since they landed here and didn't come to find me right away, there shouldn't be anyone else here!"

The door opened, and in the hall stood a tall girl with long white hair and a cloak, picking up a long, stick-like rifle from the weapon rack in front of her.

The girl held the gun to her shoulder with her right hand and slowly turned around. Only then could the prince see that her calm expression was pressed against the scope on the rifle, aligning her pupils, the front sight, and Schneizel in a straight line.

"Alright, brother, let me take a look..."

"If they only aim now, they should have been shot dead long ago."

"Hahahaha!" The girl laughed with satisfaction, then withdrew her hand, held the gun to her chest, and slowly walked towards Schneizel.