Facing four shuttle craft in succession, Squad 1923, an ordinary squad, hadn't retreated a single step, and they had struck down four Great Spikes in a row. It was a glorious record of battle, an admirable display of fearlessness and madness.
They recognized Han Qingyu. That wasn't hard.
"You, 1923... Which army are you from?" Han Qingyu tried to make conversation.
"Same as you—the Ninth Army," an old squad member answered, only realizing the problem with what he had said after the words left his mouth. A flicker of panic showed in his eyes.
Han Qingyu gave him a gentle smile, silently acknowledging it.
"Yeah, Erasers," Yin Xiaojie finally managed to speak, his voice trembling with emotion. Having spoken, he swayed, his face pale as his body went limp and collapsed to the ground, though he still insisted, "I'm fine, I'm fine."
Han Qingyu hurried over, distributing the special medicine Zhe Qiuhong had told him to bring.
Five minutes later.
"Don't—stop bothering us! No need to thank us, just get the kids out of here!"
"Are you blind? Can't you read the room? I don't have the time or the mood to deal with you lot. Get lost!"
"Don't touch that! We don't need your help."
Lei San leaned against the base of the wall by the school gate, impatiently barking at the crowd of teachers, parents, and children who had come over to offer their thanks.
Perhaps he didn't realize it himself, but tears were streaming continuously down his cheeks, mingling with the blood. It stripped the terror from his ferocity and impatience, leaving behind only something heartbreaking.
The parents and teachers hesitated for a moment, bowed in gratitude once more, and finally began to disperse.
For a time, the area around the school gate was packed with people fleeing—noisy, chaotic.
After driving the people away, Lei San turned around and saw Han Qingyu wrapping bandages around a wounded soldier while looking back at him. With reddened eyes, Lei San gave an awkward grin. "They really are a pain in the ass."
"Yeah," Han Qingyu nodded in agreement.
"Uh, Major Qing, got a smoke? What brand do you smoke? Toss me one." Lei San pulled out an empty cigarette pack, crushed it, and tossed it to the ground.
Han Qingyu patted his pockets apologetically and shook his head to indicate he had none. He didn't usually smoke, though he would light one up after a battle; however, he always bummed them off Wen Jifei or He Tangtang, never carrying any on himself.
"I... I've got some here." Slumped in the corner against the wall on the other side, Da Wu fumbled around with his head down and produced half a pack of cigarettes, straining to pry his eyes open.
Seeing that the person coming over to take the cigarettes was Major The Qing, Da Wu hurriedly pulled one out and stuffed it into his own mouth first.
Only then did he hand the cigarette pack and lighter to Han Qingyu.
"Major Qing, help... cough, cough... help me light it. That way, when I see the old gang down the line, I'll have something to brag about." Da Wu's voice was weak, but he grinned.
"All right," Han Qingyu nodded. He flicked the lighter and cupped his hand, bringing the flame before Da Wu.
Puff... puff. With some effort, Da Wu took two drags, then a third, and the tip of the cigarette finally glowed red.
A smug smile curled the corner of Da Wu's mouth. "Have one."
"All right." Han Qingyu took one and lit it.
Da Wu was thoroughly satisfied at last. He continued, "The rest... help me pass them out, Major Qing."
"All right." Han Qingyu looked at him once more, then stood according to his wishes. He turned back and handed a cigarette to Da Wu's soldier, Lei San, then to...
The school gate remained noisy.
In the corner of the wall, Da Wu's eyes quietly closed, his head slowly drooping down.
The cigarette still burned slowly in his mouth.
He had fallen "asleep."
Gone to brag to his old comrades.
"When Major The Qing lit my cigarette, you have no idea—I just leaned back like this, didn't even lift a finger..."
Knowing he was having that reunion and bragging his heart out, no one from 1923, nor Han Qingyu, went to disturb him.
"Hic... hic!" Yin Xiaojie sobbed, looking up at Han Qingyu with tears all over his face. Staring at the cigarette held out before him, he said, "I... I don't know how to smoke."
"Never smoked before?"
"No."
"That's rare."
"Take it anyway. It's Da Wu's smoke," an older squad member beside him said.
"Okay." Yin Xiaojie took it, wrapped it in a piece of plastic wrap he picked up from the ground, and carefully placed it in his breast pocket.
Shhk! Shhk!
Hearing the sound, Yin Xiaojie looked up.
"Want some bubblegum?" Han Qingyu held an unlabelled tin box in his hand and shook it. It was the bubblegum supplied internally by Azure, the kind he, Wu Xu, and the others used to play little games with.
"Yeah." Yin Xiaojie nodded.
Han Qingyu shook one out for him.
"Give me one too, Major Qing," a soldier nearby said.
Han Qingyu shook one out for him.
"Let me try that stuff too."
"One for me as well."
Soon, only a few pieces were left in the tin.
Before long, pop.
No one knew who blew the first bubble.
Pop.
Pop, pop...
After a bloody battle, a group of bloodstained soldiers sat by the school gate, chewing bubblegum and having fun.
Passing children glanced over, their eyes drawn to the tin box in Han Qingyu's hand. Perhaps because they had never seen bubblegum like this before, they looked on with curiosity and longing, or perhaps, in the aftermath of their terror, they simply couldn't resist wanting a piece.
Han Qingyu popped open the tin and looked inside.
"Don't—don't give it to them, Major Qing!" Not far off, Lei San turned and shouted a warning to Han Qingyu.
Then he turned back around and barked fiercely at the children, "You want some?! Go home, eat well, and stay alive! When you grow up, join Azure and buy it yourselves!"
Then, pop. As if deliberately showing off, he clumsily blew a bubble of his own.
Han Qingyu watched with a smile, quietly putting the tin away.
...
The students in the school and the nearby residents were finally completely evacuated, leaving only Han Qingyu and the members of Squad 1923 at the scene.
"Right, Major Qing, there's something we almost forgot to tell you," a veteran said. "Those black armors seem to know how to send messages now. They send word, and then they summon more craft."
"Is that so?" Han Qingyu was startled; he wasn't familiar with the situation.
"Yeah." Everyone around nodded together.
Just then, the communicator on the fallen squad leader of 1923 suddenly rang, and Han Qingyu's own communicator sounded at the same time.
The communicators connected.
"All combat units across all sectors, please be advised. All combat units across all sectors, please be advised..."
The announcer clearly outlined and explained the Great Spikes' current combat logic: from probing and searching... to dispatching reinforcements for annihilation, and how they would continue to send reinforcements.
"At present, our response strategies mainly fall into the following three categories:
"First: Assemble and lure for elimination. Wherever conditions permit, concentrate superior forces as much as possible, but keep a portion concealed in ambush. Begin the engagement with one or two squads and progressively enter the fray, maintaining superiority throughout the process to continuously lure and eliminate Great Spike reinforcements. However, beware of operational limits and evacuate in time.
"Second: In uninhabited areas and in the absence of reinforcements, immediately evacuate the battlefield after achieving the first kill. Disregard subsequent developments; leave it be. Currently, Great Spikes will return once they lose their target.
"Third: When there are civilians to protect but insufficient reinforcements, delay the final kill as long as possible. Once the civilians have evacuated, execute the kill and withdraw."
The announcer's voice continued, repeating the broadcast.
"Bullshit!" Lei San cursed. "That third point is total bullshit! Once you're fighting, if there are more than a handful of civilians, they can't evacuate at all! Once they start running, it's a massacre—we can barely block it! And in any place of decent size, how the hell could they finish evacuating anytime soon? How are we supposed to leave?
"Take right here, for example. They're out of the school, but what about the rest of the city? There are still people in the city! How can we just leave?"
He kept talking, but then—
"Wait!" A veteran suddenly stood up, saying nervously, "If that's what it means, doesn't that mean more craft are headed here?! And this time, several might show up at once!"
The logic was sound. With his reminder, everyone snapped to reality.
The soldiers' expressions tightened. One after another, they struggled to their feet, checking and replacing their source energy blocks, retrieving their blades, and steeling themselves for the coming battle.
"You should withdraw," Han Qingyu urged from behind them. "In the state you're in, you can't fight any longer... Fall back. Head to a medical aid post first, and escort our fallen comrades' bodies back."
Every member of Squad 1923 turned back to look at him.
"But there aren't any reinforcements that can reach this area anytime soon. Most squads have already gathered and headed toward the central battlefield. The craft that landed here was probably an accident to begin with," a soldier said.
"Yeah. If we leave like this, what if they land without a target and head into the city nearby..." Imagining the massacre that would follow, another soldier spoke urgently, his voice trailing off.
He had realized the answer.
"It's fine. I'll wait for them here."
Han Qingyu dragged the blue column sword with one hand as he stood. With a clatter, he dragged it forward, then came to a stop. Looking toward several black specks emerging against the distant sky, he spoke.
Chapter 609