Chapter 132 : The Frontline Inspection

Being ‍​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌‌​‌‍part of the generation that experienced war became a reason for later generations to admire, praise, and respect them.

...Well, ‍​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍perhaps it was not all that surprising.

For ‍​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍example, knowing exactly how efficiently a single bullet could take a human life.

Knowing ‍​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍the smell of burning flesh.

Having ‍​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍to leave behind a comrade’s body in plain sight because there might be a booby trap hidden beneath it.

Having ‍​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍to stay on guard because any civilian could suddenly pull out a gun and put a hole in the back of your head.

Returning home after the coup failed and North Korea had half-collapsed, only to find your family dead from an air raid.

Little fucking things like that.

Come to think of it, it was almost laughable.

Most of the missiles fired at South Korean territory had been intercepted, making up less than ten percent of those launched by the North Korean coup forces.

Yet one of them had landed directly on his apartment building.

“Corporal Kim, what are you going to do after you get discharged?”

Suddenly, the metallic voice of a junior soldier brushed past his ears.

What should he say?

He stroked the rough stubble on his chin after nearly two weeks without shaving, then placed a cigarette between his lips, lit it, and stuck it into the other man's mouth before answering.

“I'll finish reading the novel I was following, then get a decent job. If North Korea collapses, maybe I'll head over there and start a business.”

“Phew... Is that novel still being serialized?”

“No idea. I heard the South Korean and American special forces wiped out all their nuclear facilities last time. As for the rear... Aside from martial law, it'll probably be the same as always.”

“...Guess you're right. These days everyone's fighting public opinion through social media. If you need a business partner, let me know. I-I'll come running, cough.”

“...Sure.”

The junior soldier who answered, Private First Class Choi, had already lost everything below his waist to a landmine.

His vacant eyes couldn't even swallow the cigarette smoke.

At least the two morphine injectors stuck in his wrist were easing the pain.

At least it didn't hurt anymore.

He had used every remaining dose of morphine on him, but he didn't regret it.

The poor bastard didn't even have any ferry fare.

At least he could leave feeling the effects of the drugs.

“Ugh... Corporal... Sergeant... Ah...! Cough!”

He pulled out the Type 70 pistol he had taken from a dead North Korean major and quietly spoke to Private First Class Choi—

No.

To Sergeant Choi Geun-hyeok, who could no longer even finish a sentence.

“What do you mean corporal and private? Geun-hyeok, we're a sergeant and a staff sergeant now.”

Click.

As the heavy sound of the pistol being cocked echoed out and the anesthesia slowly wore off, twisting Sergeant Choi Geun-hyeok's face in agony, he spoke without emotion.

“Take care. I'll see you in hell.”

“...Don't... come... too... soon... Urgh...”

So he meant not to come too quickly?

Don't worry.

Even if someone begged him to, he wouldn't.

There were still too many novels left unread.

Without bothering to say those words aloud, he simply nodded.

Then he pulled the trigger.

Bang!

With a short, thunderous report, Choi Geun-hyeok, who had been leaning against the tree, collapsed.

He snapped the dog tags from the back of his neck, tucked them into his chest, and began walking south.

“I wonder... if it finished?”

It was the 153rd day since the North Korean coup began.

After reliving the memories of a past he had deliberately refused to remember, Jin Crow walked through the hallway toward his quarters with a stiff expression.

—I said they usually don't work. I never said they never work. Haha....

Viper's excuse, spoken while fearing for his life with Jin Crow gripping him by the collar, was utterly absurd.

But thinking about it carefully, it wasn't exactly wrong either.

It felt like he'd been completely swindled, but what could he do?

This was why people were supposed to read the fine print before agreeing to anything.

In the end, Jin Crow left the infirmary only after giving Viper a friendly farewell.

'Try pulling this kind of stunt again, and I'll skin that tattoo off you and mount it on a wall.'

Beep. Beep-beep.

The inside of his quarters was as silent as ever.

Stale air mixed with the smell of cigarettes welcomed him.

Some people might call it the smell of a lonely bachelor.

Well, what else could it be?

At his age, living alone made him one.

“Haa...”

Letting out a sigh, he sank onto the sofa, placed another cigarette between his lips, and closed his eyes.

It didn't feel like he had accomplished much over the past few weeks.

Yet mentally, he was utterly exhausted.

Perhaps that was only natural.

It had already been difficult enough worrying about how to stop the Creatures.

Now he had ended up as the shrimp caught between fighting whales, getting crushed in the middle.

At least our whale won.

He wasn't an idiot.

He had seen Aton's death.

And it hadn't been difficult to realize the Rosen faction was behind it.

Not because he had any concrete evidence.

He had simply considered who stood to benefit the most from the incident.

So they haven't abandoned me after all? Then what does this silence mean?

He couldn't help but wonder.

He had been acting under the assumption that Rosen had already discarded him.

Yet their actions this time were impossible to understand.

Part of him had expected Rosen to approach him after everything that had happened.

But no one came.

“What exactly are you planning?”

The people one should fear most in relationships were never the ones openly waving knives around while shouting, 'I'm insane!'

The truly dangerous ones were those who appeared perfectly normal on the surface while scheming endlessly behind the scenes.

After reaching that conclusion, Jin Crow crushed the nearly finished cigarette into the ashtray out of frustration and immediately lit another.

At that very moment—

Creeeak.

The bedroom door opened.

Light footsteps, as soft as a cat's, reached his ears.

Instinctively, he drew his greatsword and turned his head.

Then he saw Ner rubbing her sleepy eyes as she walked into the hallway.

The cigarette hanging from his lips trembled slightly.

“...You were here?”

“Yes.”

Apparently unconcerned by the cigarette smoke, Ner walked over and sat down on the sofa.

But the Confucian side of Jin Crow simply couldn't allow himself to smoke in front of what looked like a young girl.

He immediately stubbed out the cigarette he had just lit and looked across at her.

Even if she was an artificially cultivated human, her body wasn't much different from that of an ordinary human.

She seemed to have filled out a little and grown slightly taller during the few days he hadn't seen her.

After quietly observing her for a moment, he poured himself a drink and spoke.

“I read the article on Blind, Ner. I haven't thanked you yet.”

“You knew?”

With Naomi and the other researchers detained, and even Lillian being held at the transfer station, there had been no one else who could have helped him besides Ner.

To everyone else, she looked no different from a clever little girl.

But he knew her true identity.

“It was dangerous. Next time, think about yourself before you think about me.”

Was it because she looked exactly like a young girl?

He calmly said something others might dismiss as an old man's lecture before taking a sip of his drink and walking toward his room.

He opened the closed door and stepped inside.

Just as he was about to close it, he realized he had forgotten something.

Turning his head through the half-closed doorway, he met Ner's eyes.

“Thank you, Ner.”

For a brief moment, warmth flickered within his tired black eyes.

Then the door closed firmly.

“Ah...”

Left alone on the sofa, Ner stared toward his room for a while.

Without realizing it herself, she lowered her gaze, fidgeted with her fingers, and quietly murmured.

“Yes, Instructor.”

At that moment, a faint smile appeared on Ner's face—

One she herself didn't even realize.

It was the smile of a daughter who had just been praised by her father.

「Training Dummy Rampage Terror Incident」

One month had passed since the incident.

The Kukenhauzen family had kept its promise.

Martin had been expelled.

Those who had suffered losses during the incident anonymously received enormous compensation.

And Ideale received notice from the Ministry of National Defense that new Special-duty equipment would soon be delivered.

Humans were creatures of adaptation and forgetfulness by nature.

The cadets and instructors returned to their ordinary routines without much difficulty.

The small number who couldn't voluntarily left the academy, and the atmosphere quickly stabilized.

“Final exams are coming already?”

“Please tell me this is a dream.”

Not only the important courses in the curriculum but nearly every class resumed normal schedules to finish the semester.

The cadets, buried beneath a mountain of assignments, were practically dragged out of their gloom by force.

However, not every class returned to normal.

“It looks like it'll take a little longer.”

Ginatio said as he handed a document to Jin Crow, who was sitting in the instructors' office.

The contents were remarkably simple.

It was nothing more than an excessively long explanation of a single conclusion.

'Training Dummy Usage Deemed Unsuitable.'

After reading it, Jin Crow frowned and looked back up at Ginatio.

“To me, this just looks like they're nitpicking.”

“...There's really no helping it.”

Jin Crow sighed and irritably shoved a hand into his pocket to pull out a cigarette.

Watching him, Assistant Instructor Ginatio quietly walked over to the wall, turned the ventilation system to its highest setting, lowered the blinds over the now-brightening window, and spoke.

“Realistically speaking, I don't think it'll be possible this quarter. The incident was simply too large.”

Ginatio's words were perfectly reasonable.

Although it had already been determined that Jin Crow bore no responsibility for the incident, the real issue was that everyone now knew Training Dummies could be used for terrorist attacks.

If someone intentionally caused another Training Dummy to go berserk, there was no guarantee a similar tragedy wouldn't happen again.

Jin Crow understood that perfectly well.

No.

As the instructor responsible for the class, he understood that danger better than anyone.

They might overlook it once, but if another accident happens, people will start saying the responsibility lies with me.

It was only natural.

Deliberately committing terrorism was obviously a crime.

But poor management was also an undeniable disqualification.

Perhaps sensing his complicated thoughts, Ginatio cautiously spoke after observing him for a moment.

“For the time being, I think it would be best to conduct theoretical classes, and if practical training is necessary, use hologram training instead.”

“That'll have to do.”

There was no better alternative.

Jin Crow nodded.

Only then did Assistant Instructor Ginatio finally breathe a sigh of relief.

He agreed much more easily than I expected. Thank goodness.

Honestly, even Ginatio found it surprising.

Who was Instructor Jin Crow?

Having personally witnessed how many regulations and teaching ethics Jin Crow had casually thrown aside, Ginatio was simply grateful that he had been willing to compromise this time.

However, at that very moment, after signing the revised theory and hologram curriculum Ginatio had prepared, Jin Crow stood up and spoke.

“Proceed with it that way for now. I'd better hurry.”

“Pardon?”

The first half of that sentence had sounded perfectly reassuring.

The second half, however, sent an inexplicable chill racing down Ginatio's spine.

Hurry with what?

Rolling his distinctive brown eyes, Ginatio asked.

“What do you mean?”

The answer that immediately came from Jin Crow's mouth left him utterly dumbfounded.

“What do you mean? I need to scout the Frontline Inspection area.”

“Are you out of your damn mind?”

He voiced his honest feelings without the slightest regret.