29. Worth Doing

The attack came faster than expected. Even quicker than Karl and the others had anticipated. They had all thought that perhaps the assailants had been holding back all along, waiting until the very end—until they reached their destination and were at their most relaxed—to strike. So they prepared themselves to face the enemy in about ten minutes. Yet, to their surprise, just after checking the time and turning the corner toward the Azure Tower, the convoy behind them was ambushed.

“Boom!”

Amid the deafening roar of gunfire, Karl was the first to regain his senses, tumbling out of the vehicle. Although he immediately went on alert, no attack came his way. It took him a moment to realize that the explosion hadn't come from their vicinity. For a moment, he almost thought that despite his vigilance, they had failed to defend against the assault.

“It’s the convoy behind us that’s under attack. Looks like the assailants have now locked onto their target,” Oliver said as he stepped out of the car holding his Shingen rifle. He was now convinced that the attackers’ previous retreat hadn’t been due to a lack of manpower but rather a form of testing.

There’s always been a saying about escort missions: the most obvious target is often not the real one. Everyone knows that compared to flamboyantly strutting down the street, blending in with the crowd is a far better way to remain hidden.

“Their initial attack on us was probably because they suspected the target was among us. After confirming that no target was present, they saw no reason to engage us further…” Oliver explained, noticing that the other mercenaries had also disembarked and were readying their weapons.

“What do you say, Karl?” Jack asked, looking toward him.

“Let’s go back and rescue them,” Karl replied.

Though the company’s corporate dogs had left them to die earlier, the situation was different now. The target was under the protection of Arasaka security. If the target died, this mission would be for nothing.

“Any tactics, KK?” Mann, impressed by Karl’s earlier performance, asked.

“No,” Karl said, drawing his Kenshin blade. “Just kill them all.”

He wasn’t a professional bodyguard; he didn’t understand defensive tactics. All he knew was that if everyone threatening the target was eliminated, the target would be safe.

There were ten mercenaries left, including Karl, Jack, Oliver, and Mann, plus six others. It seemed those six had already made some plans while still in the vehicles. After disembarking, one of them nodded at Karl’s group and then ran off in the opposite direction from where the target was being attacked.

‘Are they abandoning the mission and running away?’ Karl wondered.

Just then, the leader of the remaining five approached Karl.

“Your name’s Karl, right? Your comrades called you that earlier,” the man said.

“Who are you?” Karl asked, puzzled. He had been eager to rush to the target’s aid and didn’t understand why this man wanted to exchange introductions at such a moment.

“Call me Brown. When you go to rescue the target, the protection’s on you. We’ve seen what you can do—you’re the most capable among us.”

“Protection’s on me? What does that mean?” Karl asked. Wasn’t everyone supposed to protect the target?

“We all know this mission. The people who want the target dead aren’t amateurs. If you can’t hold them off, out of gratitude for saving my comrade earlier, you take the target and run. We’ll cover you with our lives.”

As Brown spoke of sacrificing themselves to protect Karl, his expression was calm, and the four mercenaries behind him showed no emotion either, as if this was the natural order of things.

Suddenly, Karl understood.

He glanced at the sixth mercenary who had already vanished from sight. Brown noticed Karl’s gaze and looked back at the fleeing teammate.

“He’s the youngest in our squad. If the mission succeeds and we die, he’ll collect the payment from the middleman for us. That money will be enough to support our families.”

Brown stepped past Karl, leading his four companions toward the corner.

“Don’t worry. We’ve told him that if we all die and the mission fails, with no money for funerals, he’ll come back to collect our bones and bury us together. You don’t mind being buried with us, do you?”

“Well… I don’t mind,” Karl replied.

“Good.”

A smile crept across Brown’s scarred face. “Alright then, we’re going in first. Remember, if it’s no good, take the target and run. You’re young—don’t die before us.”

The man had been calm the whole time; it was only in the moments before heading to certain death that a faint smile appeared. As he and his companions turned the corner, the sounds of gunfire erupted, and the smile vanished into the bend.

“A real man,” Mann said, patting Karl’s shoulder before hurrying after them.

“I’ll lead this squad,” Mann said. He had already declared upon joining that he would take point.

Karl exhaled quietly, his eyes filled with solemn determination—a look he had never shown before.

What could be heavier than a dying man’s final request?

That weight pressed down on Karl, forcing him to steel himself.

When Karl, Oliver, and Jack reached the corner, they found a scene of utter chaos.

Of the thirty-seven Arasaka security personnel, fewer than twenty remained. They had driven the Sword of the Lake into a nearby store and were making a stand inside what looked like a convenience store. Not far from them, two groups were advancing, weapons drawn.

One was the attackers—easily identified by their distinctive Shingen submachine guns.

The other group was…

“Scum from the Whirlpool Gang,” Jack muttered as he followed Mann, wielding his Saratoga submachine gun, and charged forward.

The current battlefield situation was clear:

The Arasaka guards protecting the target had left their vehicles and were cornered beside a three-story convenience store. Inside the store, with few obstacles and the Sword of the Lake’s doors open, the target’s exact location was unknown. Ahead of them, the attackers with their smart weapons and the Whirlpool Gang members were charging together, while the mercenary squad was arriving from the side.

“I’ll follow Mann and Jack. Karl, circle around to the back door of the store. If there are no attackers blocking the way, take the target and run,” Oliver instructed as he glanced at Karl. “The target is in your hands.”

“You planning to fight to the death too?”

“Just think of me as infected,” Oliver replied, charging forward.

Karl understood what he had to do now.

Just as Brown and Oliver had said—to take the target and run.

Run.

They had to run.

The enemy’s aim was the target. If the target escaped, the mercenaries wouldn’t be heavily targeted. Survival would then be possible.

Karl had killed many in 2075, but saving someone—that was a first.

Yet…

“It’s worth doing.”