Lin Yu, led by a soldier who had been searching for her, found herself standing before a middle-aged officer.
“Do you speak Lanforthian?” he queried.
Lin Yu nodded.
“Yes, to a fluent, conversational degree.”
“Say a few words, then?”
“How are you? I’m fine, thank you, and you?”
The first English dialogue she’d learned in her previous life sounded somewhat comical to her, but the people of this other world, unfortunately, wouldn’t grasp the humor.
“Alright, let her…” After confirming Lin Yu’s passable fluency, the officer acknowledged her proficiency.
Before formally accepting her, he took note of Lin Yu’s appearance: a small, slender young woman.
While he couldn’t fathom why such a young girl was standing before him in an infantry uniform, he surmised that her presence here surely stemmed from her own reasons.
Nevertheless, it was best to explain the nature of such a mission, which was almost certainly a one-way trip.
With that thought, he cautioned Lin Yu, “Are you certain you want to volunteer for the bridge demolition team?”
“Volunteer for what?”
“The bridge-blowing team,” the middle-aged man repeated, swapping out military jargon for simple, direct language.
Lin Yu stared blankly, then countered incredulously, “Blow up the bridge?”
“That’s right. The mission is to infiltrate near the bridge, disguised as Lanforthian soldiers under the cover of night, and then seize the opportunity to destroy it.”
“You haven’t blown up the bridge yet!”
Regardless of any other considerations, such a vital target had to be destroyed before it could fall into enemy hands.
Ammunition, fearing capture, must be destroyed if it cannot be carried away; supplies, lest they aid the enemy, must be blown up if they cannot be transported.
As for transportation infrastructure like bridges, any sign of their impending loss necessitated demolition to prevent the enemy’s smoother advance.
‘The Lanforthians had already pushed to the right bank; how could the bridge still be standing, perfectly intact?’
“Don’t you think it’s a bit late to be blowing up the bridge now?”
“That’s not for us to consider,” the middle-aged man interjected, steering the conversation back on track as he questioned Lin Yu. “So, will you volunteer?”
‘How could anyone possibly volunteer for such a suicide mission, carrying satchels of explosives to destroy bunkers—a task offering ten chances of death and none of survival, or at best, a slim one-in-ten chance?’
‘Especially for someone like her, who yearned for a peaceful retirement and a good life, how foolish would she have to be to rush headlong into death?’
‘Was she tired of too many shells, or too few bullets?’
‘And disguised as Lanforthians… her accent would immediately give her away.’
‘The last time, she had used ‘Auliang people’ as a cover to blow up a day’s worth of Lanforthian ammunition, surely making them wary now.’
‘Sneaking in without a password would likely result in being shot on sight.’
“C-Can I withdraw now?”
“Of course,” he replied. “Otherwise, why would I ask? Such a mission is far too demanding for a young girl like you; Commander Yang would understand.”
Hearing the familiar title, Lin Yu couldn’t help but ask, “Commander Yang?”
“Yes, Commander Yang, the commanding officer of Reserve Regiment 104. Why do you ask?”
“N-Nothing.”
Dejected, Lin Yu turned away from the middle-aged man and quietly made her way back to the temporary assembly point.
‘She had actually thought that sadistic commander had returned to command…’
‘Then again, how could a scoundrel officer like him possibly command so many people?’
‘He was merely the head of a cannon fodder unit, a commander in name only.’
Her disappointment, of course, wasn’t due to the lack of news about him, but rather her inability to repay the favor she owed him.
“Lin Yu! Good news!”
No sooner had she returned to the departure point than Nangong, rushing over, grasped her shoulders and exclaimed, “I’ve found Lieutenant Xia!”
“Ah…”
Nangong held a list in her hand, filled with a long string of names, each followed by a unit designation.
The entire sheet was titled “Evacuated Wounded List.”
Nangong pointed to the name “Xia Yu.”
“Look, he’s here! He was evacuated back to a domestic hospital for recovery yesterday.”
Xia Yu, Lieutenant, 224th Territorial Defense Brigade—this combination of name, rank, and unit designation precisely ruled out any possibility of mistaken identity.
The lieutenant, whom Lin Yu had met several times and considered a “friend,” had not perished in the Lanforthian offensive days earlier.
“Is that so? That’s wonderful.”
Though there was still no news of the sadistic commander, at least Lieutenant Xia’s whereabouts were now clear.
‘Five others were still unaccounted for, their fates unknown. Truly…’
“Wait a minute…”
Just as Lin Yu’s face was about to settle into an expression of relief, it was suddenly seized by dismay.
“Nangong, I… I already avenged him, but now that he’s not dead, doesn’t that mean…”
During the incident when she had rushed to the front lines to express her gratitude only to be caught in an artillery barrage, Lin Yu had fired many shots with a salvaged rifle, hitting seven out of eight targets and seemingly erasing all her grudges.
But with Lieutenant Xia alive and well—perhaps not perfectly well, but certainly alive—her act of vengeance now seemed to overflow into “meaningless slaughter.”
“That’s why I told you not to just casually shoot and kill people,” Nangong admonished. “Whether for revenge or for survival, taking another’s life is inherently a grave sin.”
Lin Yu’s hand was taken, then gently squeezed.
“Make amends by saving lives. You’re a medic, and a healer’s heart, the duty to treat the sick and save the wounded, is yours.”
“Once you join your new unit, use your utmost passion and professional knowledge to save every casualty, alright?”
“…Mm.”
Agreeing once more to use her professional knowledge to heal and save, Lin Yu gently pulled her hand from Nangong’s grasp and quietly returned to sit on the empty ammunition crate where they had been resting earlier.
‘Sigh, when will I finally be able to go home?’
She found herself fantasizing again: a world without war, where everyone lived in peace and prosperity, where people of different nations, races, and religions could become friends and coexist harmoniously.
‘…Tsk, why did *he* suddenly cross my mind?’
‘Could it be because he had inexplicably vanished that she thought of him?’
Ever since she had returned from that area, she hadn’t seen Yang Xi, nor did she know what reason he might have had for wandering off.
Lin Yu recalled that before she left, he had remained seated in his spot like a statue.
Moreover, his personality didn’t seem the type to restlessly wander about.
Since she hadn’t been present, she needed to ask Nangong, who had stayed put, for the full story.
“Nangong, have you… seen Yang Xi?”
The medic, who had also been lost in thought, blinked at her.
“So concerned about him now, are we?”
“It’s not about being concerned or not, it’s just… I have a feeling he might do something foolish.”
“Not long after you suddenly ran off with that soldier earlier, someone else came around calling for volunteers, and he signed up too.”
“What did they want you for?”
“…Oh no!”
“What’s ‘oh no’?”
“They were recruiting for a suicide squad to blow up the bridge! He foolishly went and signed up!”
“What?”
Infiltrating enemy lines disguised as foes to carry out sabotage required an extremely sharp sense of danger and excellent combat skills.
Speaking Lanforthian was one thing; successfully completing the mission was another—after all, one couldn’t expect a language teacher to wreak havoc behind enemy lines like a special forces operative.
Yang Xi, however, was a seasoned veteran, battle-hardened and frequently wounded.
Yet, while others might not have returned alive, his consistent survival indirectly showcased his exceptional survival skills and first-rate combat prowess.
Not everyone could, while injured and bleeding, wield an entrenching tool to crack open the heads of a dozen enemy soldiers.
‘With a Diacla Superman like him joining the bridge demolition team, surely they would succeed without fail and complete the mission, right?’
Lin Yu merely needed to wish them success, await a massive explosion from the front, and anticipate the railway bridge collapsing in the blast.
‘At that point… the Lanforthian soldiers who had advanced to the right bank would be trapped in a desperate, do-or-die situation, subsequently to be completely annihilated, wouldn’t they?’
It was not too late to mend the fold after the sheep had been lost (TL Note: A Chinese idiom, ‘wáng yáng bǔ láo,’ meaning to take remedial action after a loss has occurred).
Making up for this oversight now was certainly better than letting the bridge be captured intact, allowing the Lanforthians to continuously pour in reinforcements.
The sacrifices made for this, just as Yang Xi had told her when he persuaded her to participate in destroying the ammunition, were entirely acceptable.
The young man’s resolute gaze seemed to reappear before her eyes.
“Even if it means sacrificing one’s life, it is worth it.”
Shaking her head, she mentally dismissed the words the idiot had spoken to her days ago, then asked Nangong about his whereabouts with the utmost urgency.
“Quickly, tell me which way they went!”