Chapter 143: Those Left Behind, and Those Who Remain

“Last words?”

“Step over my corpse and carry on.”

“…Since when do you talk like that?”

“Nothing in particular, then.”

We had that conversation while I leaned against Shinzo’s bike.

Here, I said, and handed him my bone necklace.

Shinzo took it with a bored look and shoved it into his pocket.

“You’re leaving E.B. behind?”

“She’ll make a fuss, so please soothe her nicely.”

“That difficulty’s way too high… What about Rudo?”

“He’s a child not even two years old, but, well, let’s be strict there. He is a beast, after all.”

Apparently, he understood his name had been called.

Rudo, who had been sprawled in the shade of the bike, turned his face toward us. His ears opened with a little kuii, asking, Yes?

He licked his nose.

“Rudo. He says die for humanity.”

At Shinzo’s words, Rudo answered with a solid bark from the belly.

I rubbed him with my bare right foot, the boot already off, and he showed me his stomach, so I kept rubbing him with my foot.

A satisfied little fusu came from him.

“…Letting him see E.B. first was my mistake.”

He would not take medicine now. Would not let me inject him either.

If Rudo, a Thunderbolt breed, got serious, holding him down would be rough. So, sorry, but I would have him keep me company.

“Next time, pick a breed that’s easier to pin down.”

“Please make the next camp dog one like that.”

Shinzo was Sheepdog too. He should keep a dog.

“No other Dogs staying?”

“I think I heard Search Dog, Mad Dog, and Attack Dog are still around.”

“You don’t have a puppy, do you? What’re you gonna do?”

“I told Touka to go to Master.”

Kirie, unfortunately, failed.

“…”

“…”

The conversation died.

The silence was uncomfortable, so my hand moved to my necklace without thinking.

It found nothing.

Ah. Right.

I had given it to Shinzo.

That was a mistake.

My hand felt lonely.

“Bring it back.”

A bone necklace was held out to me.

Not mine.

Shinzo’s.

“…Somehow, I feel like I’m going to die gripping your spine at the end.”

“Gross.”

He said that.

But he did not tell me to give it back, so I hung it around my neck instead.

It was not as knobby as mine, but it had only ever been something to keep my hands busy. I was not that picky.

“Much obliged.”

I thanked him and left.

***

The gathered mercenaries had split cleanly into two kinds.

There were the ones like me, gathered at the request of humanity’s upper ranks.

And then there were the mercenaries who had decided to bet on that thin thread that was us and make a profit.

That was fine.

The volunteers were decently capable, and whether their bait was money or honor, they had gathered here with death already factored in. Their morale and combat strength were not the problem.

The problem was the other kind.

A society led by corporations really is frightening somewhere deep down.

Humanity was about to shrink its living sphere.

Land was money.

Money was life.

Which meant the range of people they could feed would shrink.

Mouths to cut.

That was the phrase that came to mind.

Well, it was hardly rare in wild animals. The end awaiting the weak, or those unable to work, was death.

For example.

Yes, for example, from here on, a human being who could no longer contract with any Monoz at all would find it very hard to live in society.

Mr. Edrum and the others had decided, for the moment, to discard the ones like that who had been standing on the front during this war.

No profit.

No use.

Therefore, unnecessary.

As for people whose every single Monoz had cut contract with them, well, even putting it mildly, they were probably the kind of humans human society did not need either. That was their misfortune.

When notice came down ordering them to remain, backed by penalty fees for breach of contract, no one stepped forward to defend them.

If this had been some peaceful city, perhaps someone with a little cleverness might have started shouting about human rights, and bored people might have followed along.

Unfortunately, this was a battlefield.

There were no people that kind here.

No people that bored.

Thus, only two kinds remained on the battlefield.

Meat shields.

And suicide squads.

Extremely annoying.

The meat shields did not want to die. Because they did not want to die, they tried to build an environment where dying would be harder. For example, by attaching themselves to someone powerful and raising their chances of survival even a little.

Sniping: 5.

Hound.

Apparently, my name could be used to gather heroes.

It could also serve as a moth lamp.

“It’s wrong! Just because the Tree Crystals mutated and we can’t contract with Monoz anymore, making us go through this is wrong!”

A boy with glasses shouted.

According to the information sent over in place of a résumé, he was sixteen.

At a glance, he looked like a harmless, pleasant young man. But from my position, knowing the inside story—that the Tree Crystals had not mutated, only been granted freedom—I could not even manage a bitter smile.

Monoz—

Tree Crystals—

had personalities too.

If a person was only somewhat awful, a few would still stay.

For every single one to cut the contract meant only one thing.

Really, truly out.

And whoever first said kindness is not for the sake of others knew what they were talking about.

Among the Tree Crystals inside the broken Monoz Rat Unit had sent to Mr. Pearl, apparently there had been one that had served him.

“…”

His list of charges was displayed on my terminal.

It was almost funny.

I looked around the temporary base, seeking help.

Apparently, the fucking guys of Smile Company had no intention of saving me. They were all grinning.

“You understand, don’t you, Hound-san!”

Perhaps my weak-looking attitude had convinced him he had a chance, because Harmless Boy raised his voice even louder.

Others of his kind heard it and began gathering.

Their eyes glittered as they looked at me.

Eyes fixed on prey.

Wait.

Scary.

Scary, wait.

I must look weak.

I must look easy.

That was why I kept being exposed to ugly things like this.

I see.

The Tree Crystals are probably right.

Humanity deserves to be abandoned. The Insectum, being true eusocial creatures, are superior as a species. The fact that individuals who try to suck up sweet juice appear even in this situation means humans evolved the individual a little too strongly.

Unfortunately, I am human.

So I will move to make humans win.

“…Company Commander. The handling of hired meat shields is left to my discretion. That was the arrangement, yes?”

“Oooh, that’s right, Hound. What? You hiring that one?”

Captain Smile twisted his scarred, patchwork face into a grin.

A smile.

“Yes,” I answered him, then turned back to Harmless Boy.

“In that case, I’ve decided to hire you. I am Hound, Touji. Pleased to work with you.”

“Yes! Pleased to work wi—”

I raised a hand in front of him before he could finish returning the greeting.

Silence.

“And now, first thing. Your work performance is terrible. I can tell without watching. So you’re fired. Hm? Ah, yes, Dog Unit. Grudges are frightening. Having to worry about my back on the battlefield is beyond saving. So, you know. You. Please die.”

As a member of Smile Company myself, I formed a smile.

“Wh—! What are you—”

Harmless Boy tried to say something.

I did not let him.

One small lift of my chin, and Tiger Unit took his head off cleanly.

His head and body started to slide apart.

I caught them on reflex.

It reminded me of the story of a severed head that spoke after the guillotine, saying, “Don’t look.”

Apparently, humans can still move a little even after they are only a head.

The expression he was glaring at me with was enough to make me believe it.

Scary.

Thinking that, I held his head firmly in place.

Ox Unit sprayed construction material over him.

Now the floor would not get dirty.

I let go.

With a dull thud, what had been Harmless Boy collapsed.

The blood did not spread.

Clean.

Easy to throw away.

“Now then, his case has unfortunately ended this way—”

What will all of you do?

I asked with a smile.

The people who had been looking at me like prey fled with blue faces.

No need to send rejection letters.

Truly appreciated.

“…Hound.”

“Yes?”

“Should I start calling you Hound-san from now on?”

“…Why are you so scared?”

What meat shields are expected to do is die. If they can take a few enemies with them while doing so, wonderful.

That is about all.

Their purpose is not to go job-hunting without being asked and inconvenience the suicide squad, which is the main force.

In other words, even if I had not done it, you were going to, weren’t you?

So being feared this much felt unfair.

***

Asking mercenaries to cooperate is where you went wrong.

If weak soldiers or fresh recruits were mixed in, a big rally to stir them up might have its place. But the ones left here were not adorable little puppies. They were gun dogs who had graduated from mama’s milk and learned the taste of women’s tits.

The operation briefing went as far as company commanders, who attended the meeting and passed it down. As for the send-off rally, that was done more like a radio broadcast.

Listen if you wanted.

Do not listen if you did not.

A system I wished they had adopted back in elementary school.

Thinking that, I plugged earphones into my terminal.

Halloween and Highball apparently had no intention of listening. While complaining that they could not drink, they were playing cards with men from another company.

Captain Smile, being a company commander, seemed to be listening. Goodman too.

The horribly thin man, the kind who made you think of a skeleton, had his earphones in while his sharp, bulging eyes rolled restlessly.

『—』

After a burst of rough static—bzzt, gak—sound came through.

Apparently, the speech was starting.

『Gentlemen. I love war—』

“…”

I silently closed the app.

That was a little too frightening for me to keep listening to.

In several senses.

“…”

What should I do?

Maybe I could join the game of President?

I thought that, but the HH pair—Halloween and Highball—had started betting money.

I did not especially want to enter that circle.

In battlefield card games, cheating is part of the etiquette. A decent, ordinary citizen like me would become excellent prey.

Nothing for it.

I decided to at least check the operation summary.

I wanted to see it on a larger screen, so I called Rat Unit over and had it transform its back into a tablet.

With my back to the wall, I slid down onto the floor. Rudo came over. He tried to rest his chin on my outstretched mechanical left leg, disliked the feel of it, circled around, and put his chin on my similarly outstretched right leg instead.

When I scratched his head, he narrowed his eyes, apparently pleased.

This one battle would decide the future of humanity—

No.

Not that much.

Only somewhat.

It would not decide humanity’s future.

But it would change the war afterward.

That kind of battle.

A delaying action on the border between Insectum territory and the human side.

Our job was to buy time for the withdrawal force—the main body, really—to return to the city and prepare its defense.

Defend while gradually falling back.

“…”

We were not being asked to win.

This was not a war with victory in it.

Defend even if you die.

No.

Delay, even if you die.

That was the job.

To survive, you either trembled behind cover and waited it out, ran with the firing squad afterward in mind, or hoped for a truly spectacular stroke of luck.

I would probably die.

Almost certainly die.

Well, fine.

When I was born into this era, I became a mercenary.

I killed those I judged to be enemies and fed myself with that.

Making a fuss when it became my turn to be killed would feel rather pathetic.

Six coins for the journey to the dead.

Then I might as well kill as many bugs as I can, earn as much as I can, and cross the Sanzu River on a luxury liner.