Chapter 1237

<Chapter 1237> 1237. Dark Moon

The holy guardian, Martha, and London’s top swordsman, Sir Pucksifal.

Both are undeniable powerhouses in this world.

Knowing this, all the squad members froze stiff, staring only at the hologram.

“Don’t be tense. I’m not ordering you to face off against the holy guardian or London’s top swordsman. All you need to do is showcase your skills during the commemorative event. Prove your worth at the event.”

Instructor Venus coldly stated before swiping the hologram away.

The event schedule appeared line by line. A brief rehearsal would start at 9 AM, followed by the main event beginning at 1 PM after lunch.

“The event will be broadcast worldwide. Be sure not to make a fool of yourselves.”

Instructor Venus pointed at one item on the schedule.

Introduction of the new Magic Special Forces Unit scheduled for 5 PM.

“Our allotted time is 30 minutes. During this period, we’ll demonstrate magical firepower. Additionally, Unit 31 and Unit 211 will engage in a ten-minute sparring match.”


All eyes turned to me and Unit 31. The purple-haired girl with crimson eyes sat perfectly upright in her chair, showing no reaction despite being mentioned.

I raised my hand.

“What is it, 211?”

“I understand this is a demonstration match, but do it have to be specifically between me and Unit 31?”

“Because it’s a demonstration match. You two are the strongest in the unit, excluding the instructors.”

“True… if we exclude the instructors.”

“There’s no point for the instructors, including myself, to participate. The higher-ups want to see your strength.”

More like they want to see the project’s results…

I quietly lowered my hand. It seems the decision has been made. Even if I say I don’t want to do it, it won’t be accepted. If they tell me to fight, I must fight. That’s my current position.

“Units 31 and 211. Even though it’s a demonstration match, give it your all. Murder is prohibited, but minor injuries are acceptable. Showcase your combat abilities to His Majesty the King and the citizens.”

“Yes.”

“I shall give it my utmost effort.”

Units 31 and 211 responded.

Instructor Venus continued explaining the event details.

After the briefing ended, Instructor Venus called me aside.

“Unit 211.”

“Yes, Instructor Venus.”

“Instructors of Squad 667, including myself, highly evaluate you. You’re an outstanding soldier.”

“…Thank you for the compliment.”

“Let me cut to the chase. Lose in the match at this event.”

“…Is this related to someone higher up?”

“Yes. You know Unit 31 has a noble background.”

“How noble exactly?”

“I can’t say. Just know it’s far beyond what you imagine.”

I wasn’t planning to win anyway. I needed to conceal my true power. But hearing these words makes my rebellious spirit rise.

“…Understood.”

“I trust you, Unit 211.”

“Roger that.”

I calmed myself down. Maintaining cold rationality. I must lose in the match. Conceal my strength and show Instructor Venus that I have no intention of defiance…


It proves nothing.

“This isn’t an opportunity.”

The event is being live-streamed. Can we use it to expose Squad 667 and the Battle Mage Project? I’m pretty sure it won’t have much effect.

This world belongs to those in power. Even if I reveal everything, no one will help me.

“Those so-called human rights activists? They’re all bought off.”

I know this from the source material—human rights activists are just puppets of power and money.

And revenge through such methods? Unacceptable.

Killing them simply isn’t enough.

They need to suffer far more than what I endured.

“I’ll take my leave now.”

“Room 211.”

“Yes, Instructor Venus.”

“Just keep doing what you’re doing. If you continue like this…you might get assigned to the Capital Defense Force.”

The Capital Defense Force. The military unit responsible for defending the capital of the Freesel Kingdom. Among soldiers, there’s a saying that getting posted here guarantees your future.

Especially if your first assignment is to the Capital Defense Force—it’s like stepping into the golden elevator toward the best life possible.

“I’ll do my best.”

“One last thing: tomorrow, you, No. 31, and No. 212 will be given a mission. You’ll hear the details from your respective instructors.”

I saluted him and left.

It had been a while since I worked with No. 212. On the other hand, working with No. 31 felt natural—we were the strongest in our unit, so we often partnered up.

This time, the mission was noble escort duty.

A three-day noble escort mission. While Nos. 31 and I had handled various guard duties before, this would be our first time protecting a noble.

Our charge: Baron Ptelgar.

A lower-tier noble in the Freesel Kingdom who runs a mechanical parts factory.

Currently, his factory has shut down because the workers went on strike. In three days, Baron Ptelgar is scheduled to negotiate with the labor union.

“Ugh, stuck at home thanks to those freeloaders living off me? This is absolutely the worst.”

Baron Ptelgar was a middle-aged man whose obesity strained his clothes as he lounged on a sofa, sizing up Nos. 31, 212, and me. Since this was an external mission, we wore masks—but even covered, Nos. 31 and 212 exuded a striking presence, their silhouettes radiating beauty.

Yet the baron quickly turned away.

He must’ve heard something about No. 31—or maybe he just wanted to avoid entanglements with the military. After all, even nobles don’t mess with the army lightly. My guess is it’s probably the former.

“I heard you’re all battle mages.”

“All three of us are certified Level 3 Battle Mages.”

“I know that already. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have hired you. Hmph, you seem competent enough.”

He extended his hand lazily, and a woman in revealing lingerie placed a beer glass into it. From the vibe, she wasn’t his lover—more likely a prostitute.

“I’m aware of the basic information regarding this operation. We’ll be guarding you for the next three days.”

“A friend of mine praised your work ethic. I trust you’ll handle things accordingly.”

After chugging his cold beer, he looked pleased.

“…Baron, I have a personal question, if I may?”

“What is it?”

“I heard that the upcoming day is the final negotiation. Haven’t there already been over ten chances to settle this? Why not meet the workers’ demands?”

“Are you questioning me? Are you supposed to protect me or side with them?”

“No, please don’t misunderstand. I merely heard that the workers’ strike has lasted nearly four months. Wouldn’t it be more profitable to compromise, even if it means some losses?”

“Ho ho…so that’s what this is about. You seem interested in business, huh?”

“Forget it. Answering you would be beneath me. Sure, stopping production causes losses—massive ones, too. But the real issue? Losing trust with partner companies. When customers disappear…


“…That’s what I’m saying.”

“I heard the strikers’ demands are improvements to working conditions and a 5% wage increase. Isn’t that reasonable?”

Originally, they asked for 15% raise, more hires, bonuses… But after long negotiations, their demands got smaller.

“How dare they.”

“…Pardon?”

“You ungrateful pigs. You’ve lived off my money this whole time, and now you’re daring to revolt against me asking for more food. That act is absolutely unforgivable!”

“You wouldn’t understand. Because of this measly demand, you’re ruining a factory that earns hundreds of millions credits every year. However, I’m not like you workers. I have money and connections. Starting a new business is no big deal.”

“The final negotiation… The result is already decided then?”

“Heheh. Yes. I’ll give up the factory rights. After it goes to auction, my friend will buy it cheaply. My friend will get government subsidies for the business.”

I doubt that subsidy will reach the workers.

“Why are the workers targeting the viscount?”

“Among pigs, there are occasionally smart ones. When I die, the factory ownership goes to the local government instead of auction. They’ll fix it up and sell it.”

“So from the workers’ perspective, it’s better if the factory goes to the local government?”

“It’s better than losing jobs entirely. Hahaha. Are we done with questions?”

“Yes. Thank you for answering.”

“If we’re done, go back to work. I’ll be enjoying myself in this room for three days.”

We turned around and left the room.

Just before the door closed, the prostitute’s titled voice rang out. #212 looked away awkwardly while #31 showed no reaction.

Back in our room, we activated a hologram on the table to review the situation.

#212 manipulated the hologram as she explained:

“This is the mansion layout. Four floors, 19 rooms. Basement has wine cellar and food storage. Viscount has 20 guards besides us – half are mana users, other half are specially trained mercenaries.”

I nodded.

Looks thorough but lacks substance. That’s why Viscount Petelgar paid the army for guard reinforcements – he doesn’t fully trust his own guards.

“Still, with these many guards, we don’t need boring patrols.”

“One of us should still take watch shifts though. Can’t trust these guards.”

As briefing was wrapping up, I looked at #31 and asked:

“What do you think?”

“About what?”

“The assassin. Will they attack within next three days?”

Viscount hired us because he’s anxious, even though there’s no intel suggesting workers hired an assassin. In my view, it’s less likely – workers have been on strike for four months already. Where would they get money for an assassin?

“They’ll come.”

“Reason?”

“Gut feeling.”

“…”

I seriously nodded.

Her gut feelings shouldn’t be ignored – over missions together, we’ve benefited from her instincts many times.

“#212, what about you?”

“Strike leader Bill Clarkson is in desperate situation. Desperate people… sometimes make extreme choices.”

“So you also think assassin will come. Good. Let’s get serious. #212, set up surveillance cameras inside and outside the mansion. #31, put barriers around viscount’s room. I’ll go scout the terrain for a bit.”

They followed my instructions without complaints.