I Have Returned, but I Cannot Lay down My Gun-Chapter 805: Washington D.C (21)

"Yeah, I knew you'd say that."

"It would be nice if you could get caught soon, mosquito friend."

"Hah, that remark just ruined it."

In the battlefield, where human emotions escalate to unprecedented extremes, a conversation that should never have taken place bloomed.

For someone who lives a social life in a peaceful world, after seeing the same person twice, they would want to acknowledge them, and after three times, they might even start talking. In extreme situations like war, if you face someone five or six times...

Even if you don't want to, you can't help but start talking.

Of course, the interactions between the Black Eagle—practically a human-machine hybrid—and the US military, aside from their loyalty to the Syndicate, were limited to the lead slugs flying at each other.

This scenario was possible only due to Race, who had recently been demoted and sent directly to the frontlines, and the Dagger team, which was deployed in places where intense battles occurred, areas the US military couldn’t survive in.

Through the operation of the mobile strike force, Race was always sent to the most dangerous locations, directly interfering with the US military's offensive, making repeated encounters with the Dagger team inevitable.

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—Drreeek!

"Kuh...!"

"Wake up, Black Eagle. Get lost from here."

"These bastards aiming at my ass, there’s too many of them these days. You should at least take a ticket!"

Screech!

A dull noise, as if something was being shaved away, filled the building. It was the sound of armor-piercing rounds pounding against the thin barrier of blood surrounding Race, like a torrential downpour. But even that, half the physical force was absorbed, and the power was enough to be blocked by her armor.

However, that was just the first encounter. She secretly grabbed a blood pack she had stolen from the medical room and squeezed it with her hand. At that moment, the thin shield around her body began to thicken.

But that wasn’t all. The blood of soldiers who had died nearby swirled at her command. A strange sensation surged through her hand.

But,

"Who would think I’d just wait quietly?"

"Kuh...!"

Boom!

The moment Olivia, crossing the hallway at an invisible speed, passed by, Race’s body twisted at a right angle and was thrown backward. This was because her blood manipulation was dependent on her senses.

Despite this, Race still tried to counterattack. Even as she flew back, she threw all the 'energy' she had gathered directly at the front. A large amount of blood turned into spears and shot across the air.

However, Olivia’s overwhelming reaction speed made it look like the spears coming at her at near-sound-speed were nothing more than a simple catch. She drew her pistol and shot each one down.

With sharp explosions, the spears that had been aimed at Olivia were shattered, turning into splashes of blood.

Of course, Race, who had been kicked and sent tumbling down the stairwell, didn’t know that.

Instead, as soon as she regained her senses, she threw a grenade upwards in preparation for Olivia following her, and a loud explosion followed.

"Crazy..."

Even though Race had reduced the force with her blood-made shield, she still felt a sharp pain in her abdomen. The kick had more physical force than a gunshot.

However, the fortunate thing was that for Race, this kick was on the lighter side. Just recently, when she had encountered Dagger Team's operator Logan Blemis...

'That time, I almost really went to hell...'

A single punch breaking through a concrete wall wasn’t a cheat, was it?

It wasn’t a human body anymore—it was a weapon. Logan’s overwhelming physicality was enough to degrade Race’s abilities into nothing more than tricks, and if she hadn’t temporarily developed a flight-like ability to escape that situation, she would’ve been captured with her limbs twisted backward.

Maybe... that wouldn’t have been so bad, except for the twisted limbs. She thought that way. Race would eventually leave the Black Eagle, and perhaps in the future, she might even join Icarus.

But not now.

It was almost like a stubbornness. No one, other than herself, would understand—Race was curious about how far the Black Eagle would fall before she left.

Of course, there was another reason—she decided to use this mission as an opportunity for her own growth. She had resolved to rely as much as possible on her abilities without using firearms.

"...All surviving soldiers, respond."

Silence.

Maybe they didn’t want to answer, or maybe they were all dead. But it didn’t matter. In the end, more than half of them would be dead here, and HQ had ordered it.

In the first place, the command to hold off a brigade-level attack with just three platoons was absurd, but the Black Eagle had entrusted this glorious task to her.

Race remembered the events in the operations control room a little while ago.

She had prepared the argument that "meaningless losses of troops and equipment were expected," which was half a lie—though the other half was sincere—but the higher-ups had firmly rejected her opinion.

But that wasn’t the end; it was the beginning—Web had given her the exact position that would result in "meaningless losses." It was a malicious and petty personnel assignment.

It almost felt like the higher-ups had forgotten that she had become a mutant.

'It’s unsettling knowing that someone is dying pointlessly...'

Except for a few, Race already knew that most Black Eagle operators had lost their minds. After all, she had been like that before she mutated.

Still, she thought it was right to save soldiers who didn’t need to die. Not because she was saving lives out of kindness, but because she believed it was the responsibility entrusted to one person.

But if the weight of responsibility no longer had meaning, and unnecessary responsibilities were being piled on...

"...I’ll just throw it all away."

What was certain was that it wasn’t something she had brought upon herself.

Race reached out to the sight of a Black Eagle soldier, badly wounded, leaning against the wall. In that moment, the soldier’s body trembled, and with a strange sound, the soldier collapsed to the ground, almost like a mummy.

The bright red blood that poured from the body wrapped around the soldier and formed eerie crimson wings resembling bat wings on their back.

And at that moment,

—Crack!

Olivia crashed through the window from the exterior of the building.

The question of how that was possible didn’t even matter. In a world where materialism had been shattered, anything was possible, and Race would have believed Olivia flew in.

In reality, there was nothing else that could explain it.

A tremendous number of bullets crossed paths in an instant.

When they collided with each other, the distance between their bodies was close to zero. A deafening noise filled the hallway as the two figures collided like cars crashing.

The next moment, with the sound of glass breaking, the two of them were thrown more than 10 meters from the building into the hallway.

The Black Eagle and US soldiers, who had been engaged in combat nearby, both wore dumbfounded expressions.

"...What the hell is that?"

It felt like fantasy had suddenly arrived in reality.

Olivia, with faint holographic wings on her back, and Race, with wings made of blood fluttering behind her, like something from a myth or novel.

But neither of them had fully mastered the sky, both could only manage short flights or glides. Before anyone in the area could regain their senses, the two figures collided with the opposite building and crashed into the hallway.

As Race expelled blood, sending Olivia flying off her, she saw a blue blade flash in front of her.

The smell of blood evaporating, the metallic scent, and the pungent smell of burning protein filled the room.

"Damn it...!"

"...!"

Race clenched her fist at that moment, but Olivia had already disappeared from her sight.

If the attack hadn’t missed, the blood would have surged back, causing even Icarus operators to suffer significant internal damage. But as always, all attacks and defenses relied entirely on the user’s senses.

Race hadn’t yet refined herself to Dagger Team’s level, and instead of strategizing how to neutralize her opponent, she was still focused on how to ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) escape without harm.

A brief exchange followed.

"Are you finally going to give up?"

"...I still plan on living a while longer."

"Who said I’m going to kill you? The polar bear came chasing after me quite fiercely..."

With a thick wall between them, the standoff continued.

Race mentioned something that had happened earlier, and Olivia chuckled while preparing for the next attack.

And so, one step at a time, as Race grew sharper through combat, the claws of the Black Eagle stationed in Washington D.C began to disappear one by one.

Summer was coming to an end.

"Gamma air defense base is under attack. A self-propelled artillery unit stationed at least 30 kilometers away is firing indiscriminately."

"Every cruise missile fired is being intercepted. A solution to this is required."

"How about the mobile strike force under Commander Race?"

"They encountered fierce resistance 15 minutes ago. Communications suggested the US military might be mobilizing a brigade. After that, we haven’t received any additional reports."

"Things aren’t looking good..."

Meanwhile, several kilometers away at the Kestrel Command Center.

Crow was absorbed in the hologram depicting the ongoing battle in the heart of Washington D.C. Everywhere, red and blue seemed to be pulling at each other in a tug-of-war.

The air defense base Gamma was being bombarded endlessly. At least the artillery brigade-level firepower was being used. The US military had retreated to prevent a close-quarters battle, and the stationary target, the air defense base, was being bombarded every few seconds.

Since the modern era, excluding nuclear weapons—even those were ineffective at destroying buildings unless they were beyond a certain range—no weapon could completely destroy the structure of a building, and even if they collapsed, they left massive debris.

However, that only gave an advantage in infantry combat during urban warfare. The operation of delicate and complex equipment, like at air defense bases, was a different story.

After minutes of continuous bombardment, the air defense base had lost more than half of its functionality. Of course, even without the artillery, the US cruise missiles that had arrived from somewhere gave a cold chill.

Already, Washington D.C. was turning into ruins, filled with concrete debris and scattered rebar.

"What’s the Talisman Brigade doing?"

"They’re continuing to counterattack. At the same time, they’re reportedly moving the air defense bases that haven’t been attacked to the rear. I hear Race Commander is considering a phased retreat plan."

"Is that so."

Crow almost burst into laughter at that moment.

The decision they were likely to make, which had just dismissed Race's concern as excessive worry in the TOC, was actually being made just a few hundred meters away.

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He composed himself and continued thinking about the matter. Although it wasn’t certain, the 'consideration of retreat plans' was probably the result of a much worse situation than expected.

In simple and blunt terms, they had 'reaped' the results that Race had to take the fall for.

Excessive concern wasn’t sabotage—it was the correct decision.

In situations filled with people who were barely human, it was common to punish the person who took responsibility and then steal their ideas for personal gain. Crow had seen this happen many times, even in Artemis.

But in a world that was half broken, human nature hadn’t disappeared, and Crow felt a deep irony in that.

"Just in case, prepare a rescue team. If I don’t hear from you in five minutes, I’ll go myself."

"I’ll form a company."

He nodded and connected to the Black Eagle command network.

As he scrolled down, various command orders and data requiring direct confirmation disappeared from the screen. But what stood out was the evacuation plan displayed as a notice.

He clicked on it, entered the password 1q2w3e4r!, and carefully examined the contents.

And-

-[Evacuation Plan Draft]

-[The Talisman command, located relatively southeast, will retreat through Andrews Air Force Base to Bermuda’s LF Wade International Airport while Kestrel defends the US military in Washington D.C, gathering in the Bahamas afterwards.]

-[Kestrel command will retreat via the Naval Academy in Annapolis, 43 km to the east, and then to Chesapeake Bay if Talisman Brigade retreats successfully, then moving to the Bahamas HQ.]

"Hah, this is just ridiculous."

"What did you say?"

"Nothing important. Don’t mind me."

If this were a comedy, it would be the most absurd one.

After declaring that they would establish a new world order after conquering Asia and the US, the internal strife of a group calling itself the Syndicate and Black Eagle was more childish than a kindergarten.

They openly set a simple goal of betraying America and making a fortune, and to achieve it, they didn’t hesitate to cross any line. Artemis, which at least didn’t shy away from getting their hands dirty, seemed better in comparison.

Of course, they got beaten senseless but barely survived.

Crow let out a slow breath.

"Has it been almost 10 years?"

It had been roughly 10 years since he first met Race.

Through various trials and experiments, they had at least known each other’s faces, and it seemed like that would be the end of it. But the one thing that was certain was that no one expected they would end up in such a situation.

But that was the reality.

Fortunately, just before five minutes were up, communication came through.

-...Can you hear me? If you can, respond. Checking comms connection...

"I hear you, Race. If you’d been one minute and 22 seconds later, I was going to go out and meet you, but it seems like that’s not the case."

-You freakin' pervert... The operation’s failed. The US military has already set up massive defenses. They redirected nearly two battalions to trap the mobile strike force.

"Can you return?"

-We've escaped the encirclement, but the others... I don’t know. Should I say it’s unfortunate?

"Get back here. You need to know what’s happening at the Talisman command while you’re out."

What’s happening, he said—could it really be wrapped up in such polite words? Crow thought.

What was certain was that if she returned in one piece, Race would probably laugh so hard her stomach would hurt when she heard what happened in her absence. Crow, thinking this, collapsed into a chair and let out a small sigh.

"We’ll send a vehicle for retreat support. One will be enough, right?"

-For someone who’s lost all their forces, that’s more than enough.

"Don’t say things you don’t mean."

Of course, how Race’s words were received was up to each individual—naturally, the only truth in Race’s mouth was that 'it was more than enough.'

Slowly, the two no longer saw the Black Eagle as one entity.

The sound of military boots from the US soldiers could be heard.