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Chapter 9 - Catching the Magic Bullet

Was I hallucinating? Seeing things?

No, it was too real for that.

A green-fused orb the size of a baseball, encasing a Magic Bullet.

And there, plain as day even when I rubbed my eyes, was the safety pin that shouldn't have been visible.

'Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn.'

My brain nearly froze, but the situation was too dire for that.

If anything, my mind cleared, sharpening to a razor's edge.

'Dodge...? No, too late for that.'

Dozens of thousands of calculations flashed through my head in the face of death.

I had to find the one with the highest odds of survival.

"Get down!!!!"

'Get down? You want me to die!'

I ignored the instructor's worthless shout and racked my brain harder.

'Gotta live. I have to survive.'

Right then, my thoughts raced at supercomputer speed.

The instant the best option surfaced, I acted without hesitation.

"Please!"

Instead of fleeing, I lunged forward and snatched the Magic Bullet from the ground with my bare hand.

If it detonated now, instant death—no question.

Yeah, this was a gamble, pure and simple.

'Don't blow. Don't you dare blow. Please.'

I gripped it tight, then hurled it toward the empty rear.

Whiiiiiish!

It streaked in a straight line from my hand.

Before it hit the dirt, the timer ran out—and it erupted in a brilliant blaze.

BOOOOOOM!!!!

'Holy...'

Silence crashed in after the thunderous roar.

One thought dominated my mind.

"That was way too close."

As the tension drained from its peak, all strength fled my body—hell, even my soul felt like it was slipping away.

"Haa."

A miraculous survival. And I wasn't the only one.

"Hyung... hyung! You're insane!"

Derek, right beside me, clung to me like a lifeline, his face on the verge of tears.

"Th-thank you. You saved my life."

"If that thing had gone off..."

.

.

.

The cadets around us poured out their gratitude one by one.

If not for me, they'd be dead or maimed.

'Wasn't trying to play hero, but results are what count, right?'

Win-win, anyway.

"Cadet."

As I fielded endless handshake requests, the instructor approached, having gotten the situation under control.

"Cadet, Palan!"

"The cadet failed to respond to this instructor's orders."

I'd expected praise like "excellent" or "outstanding." Dead wrong.

"Therefore, for disobeying orders, one point deduction."

'What? Is he nuts?'

I'd kept him from getting court-martialed out of uniform, and this was his thanks?

"Wait, what the hell does that—"

"You saved lives, and you're deducting points?!"

Not just me—the cadets glared at him in disbelief too.

'Who knew they'd have my back.'

F-grade nobles or not, they felt a tad reliable now.

"However."

The instructor broke the contemptuous silence.

"It cannot be denied that it was the best judgment possible in that moment. You saved countless lives, making the outcome outstanding."

Carrot and stick, huh? His tune flipped like a pancake.

"Thank you!"

"As exemplary conduct, three merit points awarded. Maintain that quick thinking after commissioning."

"Yes, sir!!!"

One point down, three up. Net gain of two. I breathed a sigh of relief.

'But what kind of bullshit is this?'

Deduct first, then add. Bet he thinks he's clever.

"And the one who threw the Magic Bullet at his comrades..."

Praise over, his voice and expression turned lethal as his gaze swung around.

At the end of it: the terrified bomber, shaking like a leaf.

"Eek! S-sorry!"

He bowed, sweat pouring, but this wasn't a slap-on-the-wrist mistake.

'You... yeah, take the hit.'

* * *

"Exhausted."

With the training accident, I'd figured they'd cut us slack today.

No such luck. Training camp gonna training camp.

'No mercy, no consideration. Hopeless.'

Small mercy: lecture hall class, so no physical strain.

Though fighting sleep was its own hell now.

"Ahem, can everyone hear me?"

Once all cadets were seated, an unfamiliar man took the podium and leaned into the amplification artifact.

"You in the back row, gray hair."

"Ca-Cadet Barus!!!!!"

"Good lungs. Can you hear me fine?"

"Yes, sir!!!!!"

"Excellent. Instructor, merit point for that one. Outstanding."

"Un...understood."

The instructor replied with obvious displeasure at the order.

'Kid's just yelling from three-hour PTSD, and he catches this break.'

Luckiest bastard.

"I could belt it out that loud if you asked."

Ion shot Barus a jealous glare, obsessed with points.

Honestly, same here.

'Luck's one thing, but why that mouth?'

Barus deserved a demerit, not merit.

But what could a mere cadet do? Guy on stage was top dog.

"Pleased to meet you all. Major Jabein, your tactics instructor here at the training camp."

Clap clap clap clap!

First normal greeting since enlisting—cadets applauded.

'No wonder the instructor shut up at the merit order.'

Instructor was a lieutenant. Major outranked him sky-high.

"You lot, all nobles—got that noble air we haven't seen before."

Major had that relaxed vibe.

Felt like a university prof.

"Day two, so probably just drill. Heard the run was canceled. Right?"

He eyed a front-row cadet.

"Yes, sir!"

"Post-drill discipline's tight. No need to be so stiff in my class. Relax—but no sleeping."

"No sleeping" meant demerits if you did.

"No time to waste. Let's start. Assistants, hand out the textbooks."

They distributed books two finger-widths thick.

Military Tactics: Basic Theory

"Three days to study this. Normally two weeks— you know why it's shortened."

I hefted the book instinctively.

'This... in just three days?'

Damn near impossible. Straight-up impossible.

"No skimming just because time's short. Exam on day three, content-based. Up to ten demerit points. Note that."

Thought he was nice at first.

Now dropping bombs one after another.

'Not high rank for nothing. Soft words, same devil.'

Worse, even.

"Let's dive in. Chapter one: terrain and tactics correlation. Skip front, open to page seven."

Flip flip flip!

Pages rustled through the hall.

"Terrain's one of three core factors in planning tactics."

Scribble scribble.

I turned at the sound. Ion, furiously taking notes.

'Elite's different.'

Top students got there for a reason.

"Think: cliff nearby. Safer on top or bottom? Top, obviously."

"..."

"But enemies know that too. What should the field commander decide? Anyone?"

Whoosh!

Ion shot up his hand, pro-gamer reflexes.

"You, cadet. Answer?"

"Cadet Ion. Plan tactics to seize high ground faster than the enemy."

"Correct. But enemy's numerically superior, obviously. What then? Charging head-on means defeat."

"Uh..."

Follow-up stumped him—he hadn't thought that far.

"Fine. Answer as it comes."

"D-don't know. If we can't take high ground, other options?"

"Possible. Sit."

Ion slumped back, disappointed.

"Anyone else?"

No hands. Nothing popping for them?

'Can't take high ground? Hm.'

Not a genius, but I rolled it desperately.

'No high ground means disadvantage. Disadvantage...'

Flash.

Solid answer hit. Hand up, no delay.

"Oh, cadet. Go ahead?"

"Cadet Palan. If we yield high ground to the enemy, retreat to terrain negating its advantage."

"Retreat."

Jabein stroked his chin thoughtfully.

'Not good enough?'

Might suck by soldier standards.

This inefficient meathead org only knew charges.

But luckily, the major was sharp.

Clap clap clap!

"Not my planned answer, but excellent."

A weird thrill surged as he applauded.

"Instructor, merit for that cadet."

"Thank you!!!!"

Loudest shout since enlisting. Thrill plus reward.

'Teacher, love you.'

If God existed, he'd look like this guy.

"To overcome numbers, need flexible thinking. Don't forget."

Flexible thinking.

Words that didn't belong in the army.

"Next: mountain warfare tactics. Western front—war's main stage—is mountains. Memorize whole section."

Thirty-ish pages.

Thought he'd explain. Nope, straight rote.

'If it's important, shouldn't you teach it...?'

Weird teaching style.

"Oh, right—cadets, heard about yesterday's war news?"

Heads shook.

'Border was crumbling from raids last I heard. Something blow up?'

I knew the initial western line collapsed to surprise attacks; new defense line seeing fights.

Territory loss didn't mean disadvantage yet.

'Real war hasn't started.'

Aditz Empire vs. my Lycan Empire.

Other kingdoms existed, but two empires dominated the continent.

Attacker had initiative, but both had too much to lose for all-out war.

'Negotiations ongoing up top.'

Diplomacy to avoid total war. Stalled talks, per papers before enlistment.

"Might disappoint, but want to hear?"

He asked a front-row cadet, who nodded without hesitation.

"If cadet wants, I'll tell. His Majesty recalled border ambassadors over Aditz's outrageous demands. Surprised?"

'What... the hell?'

Eyes bulged. Not just me.

"D-does that mean war's really starting?"

A cadet's voice trembled.

"Likely. His Majesty ordered war prep. We just fight now."

'That's the hard part!'

No one says "go fight" that casually.

"Rumor: they want fifty percent of Orkan Mine shares. Ridiculous, right?"

'Orkan Mine? What's that?'

This guy skipped geography? Zero knowledge here.

"Belburn Duke family oversees it, I think. Any Belburns here?"

Jabein scanned hopefully. Ion raised his hand.

"Empire's nobles all in one place. As Belburn, your take on Aditz's demand?"

Ion answered without pause.

"Insane. If true, war's justified."

Voice dripping disgust. Genuinely pissed.

"Brass agrees, hence prep. Sit."

As Ion sat, I couldn't hold back.

"That place that important?"

"Thirty percent of empire's mana stones from Orkan Mine. Fifty percent stake? No negotiation intent."

Mana stones.

Essential for magic artifacts, pricier than gold by weight.

'His family runs that?'

Already saw him as silver spoon. This was another level.

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Read 191 more chapters ahead on NovelDex!

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