Editing HEAVY OBJECT:Volume11 Chapter 1 (section)

===Part 11===

The two idiots grew pale behind the die-shaped air cargo container.

“This changes everything,” groaned Heivia. “I wasn’t stupid enough to believe we were fighting for justice, but is this for real? So the Capitalist Corporations are fighting to keep Colorful Vanilla out of their country and we were sent out to erase the evidence that we’re supporting that business? What the hell!?”

“I don’t like it either. I think I’m gonna have nightmares for a while, even if I confess this to a priest.”

“I wouldn’t, since you’ll just get you and the priest blown away in the name of protecting classified information. If you need a change of pace, then go to a strip club instead.”

“Hey, do you think Frolaytia was involved in this drug war?”

“If so, she’d never have agreed to the Blue Rose’s surprise visit or the Black Uniforms’ surprise inspection. Would you want to hold a cookout on the mountain you just buried a corpse in? Even if your friends were planning it, you’d start gathering beach pamphlets, put on your best smile, and try to get them to change their plans. I doubt she knew a thing.”

“So she’s innocent. That’s good at least.”

“More importantly, what do we do now? We can’t let some idiot continue making money in the worst possible way, like it’s a fishy sort of FX trading.”

Quenser used his handheld device’s lens to take photos of the container number and the purple ergots growing on the wheat inside. He also gathered a few seeds in a bag, but he looked worried.

“Will this really work as evidence? How long has it been since the crash? There’s only this wheat inside the container. If we show this as proof, someone’s sure to suggest the ergot fungus spread to the wheat from the oasis. They’ll say this doesn’t prove the Legitimacy Kingdom was involved. It’ll be just like the investigation after a suicide brought on by bullying or overwork. When everyone prefers for there to be no connection, the report can be twisted however they want!!”

“But the mastermind couldn’t just abandon this stuff. That’s why they had us risk our necks on that minefield for this phony rescue operation. They must have felt they couldn’t let the Capitalist Corporations or Information Alliance get this stuff.”

“But why?”

“…”

Quenser thought on their conversation for a bit and then caught on.

“Heivia, you said they’ll ignore this by claiming the wheat in the container was infected by ergot fungus at the crash site, right?”

“Yeah. What about it?”

“Ergot fungus is alive, so it has genes made from DNA and RNA. If we take this back and let a lab look at it, they can tell what region it came from. At the very least, they can tell it didn’t grow at this oasis.”

“So they can’t make that excuse anymore? Are you saying we can prove they were growing dangerous ergot-infested wheat in the container from the beginning!?”

They knew what they had to do.

They also knew the obstacles would grow the closer they got to their goal.

A voice reached them over the radio.

“Quenser, Heivia! Are you alive!? We had some trouble with that wall of fire that cut us off, but we’re resuming our advance. Don’t die yet and see you at the oasis!!”

“Goddammit! Who knows who our enemy is here! We need to protect this container!”

“No, let’s abandon it. As long as we have a few pieces of the wheat, we can get the ergots analyzed. If they blow up the container, the mastermind will rejoice and let their guard down. And I want to see who goes for the container first. That will lead us to who’s behind this.”

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s do that. By the way, what about the Capitalist Corporations? We’ve already killed a fair number, but I don’t really want to make more corpses now.”

They peered over at the transport plane’s wreckage again.

Even now, they were relying on their unmanned weaponry, so most of them were here. They were likely monitoring the situation and would know it was growing worse for them, but they may have decided cutting off the supply of Colorful Vanilla was more important than their own lives. It was possible some of them had family or a lover back in their home country.

They were the border patrol.

They were meant to risk their lives as they kept the dangers of the battlefield countries from entering their home country.

Quenser thought for a moment before speaking.

“Heivia, can you speak in a Capitalist Corporations accent? It has to sound native or it won’t work.”

What they had to do was simple.

Quenser and Heivia fell back to the sunflowers, stuck fuses in Hand Axe plastic explosive, and threw it all around.

Then they used the silencer-equipped carbine they had stolen from the Capitalist Corporations soldier. They pulled out a single rifle round, crushed the lead bullet portion with a pair of pliers, and reloaded it.

They fired into the air. Most of the bursting sound was absorbed, so only the sharp whistle-like noise of the crushed bullet tearing through the air rang out.

After a few seconds, Quenser hit his radio’s switch.

As the sunflower field was torn apart again and again, Heivia shouted at the top of his lungs.

“Legitimacy Kingdom mortars!! Once this area’s been levelled, their main force is coming. Fall back! Fall back to the shelter immediately!!”

Thinking explosives were raining from the sky, a stir ran through the Capitalist Corporations soldiers. They began to move. A few were reluctant at first, but the other soldiers grabbed their arms and fled.

“This would make any pacifist shed tears of joy. From now on, today shall be known as St. Heivia’s Day.”

“Don’t let your guard down yet. We need to hide and see what happens. Who’s going to go for the container before-…?”

He trailed off.

“Heivia, you’re all right!? That was one hell of an explosion just now!”

It was their (supposed) allies from the Legitimacy Kingdom. The noble boy let out a sigh and gave up. He casually removed his assault rifle’s sensors and military battery and dropped them to his feet. Then he joined the other soldiers with a smile on his face.

However, those soldiers had not called Quenser’s name.

They had not seen him.

He crouched down, took the gun accessories, and held onto the silencer-equipped carbine as he slowly slipped further back into the curtain of sunflowers. He heard a rustling just five meters ahead of him and the (flat-chested) black-haired exposed-forehead Black Uniform appeared on the crash site. He knew she would not be carless enough to wear perfume on the battlefield, but a different sort of sweet feminine aroma wafted his way. That was just how close she was. The tension squeezed painfully at his heart, but fortunately, he had not been found.

(Who will it be?)

The container was only one hundred meters away, but he attached the extra equipment to the carbine and observed the scene through the scope.

(Who will go for the container first!?)

Heivia walked through the crash site. The surrounding soldiers groaned when they saw the mowed down sunflowers and the crashed plane split into three parts. They all focused on the cockpit because their official objective was to rescue the pilots.

However, one person was focused elsewhere.

They were sneaking further looks around the area without focusing on the wreckage of the plane.

When they spotted something, they casually walked away from the rest of the unit. They traced their fingers along the surface of the die-shaped air cargo container that Quenser and Heivia had used as a shield before.

Quenser’s mind went blank.

For a moment, he had no idea what was going on.

(You’ve gotta be kidding me… The Black Uniforms Special Platoon 15!?)

It was the one with a relatively flat chest for her age.

The one with the trademark forehead showing between her long black hair.

There was nothing anyone could have done. It was like having the airport’s drug-sniffing dog tamed by a toy bone and some pet food. If the inspection system was not functioning, they could run their drug war without worrying about a thing. Those young women had performed the inspection themselves so they could ignore the bag of white powder hidden in a corner of the container. Once they stamped it “checked”, “safe”, or “passed”, no one would suspect a thing.

But this was no time to be lamenting the corruption of those supposedly well-behaved people.

The black-haired Black Uniform was running her fingers along the container. No, she was measuring something with her fingers. As a combat engineer, Quenser realized she was judging where to place explosives. And when he saw what she pulled out, he silently groaned.

(White phosphorous of all things!?)

They were white phosphorous incendiary grenades.

They were famous for producing intense heat while also spreading toxic chemical-filled smoke. It was to the point that everyone tended to tilt their heads and wonder why it was not classified as a poison gas weapon.

Quenser recalled the burned corpses by that tunnel’s stairs. Not only did those grenades scatter sticky flames, but the powder mixed in with the smoke would destroy the human body when breathed in. Anyone hit by the stuff would writhe around as it covered their body like melted chocolate and their lungs would grow too inflamed to breath properly. That hell would last for a few dozen seconds to around a dozen minutes. And once they were hit, there was no saving them. It was truly a dance of death.

Quenser checked the wind through the scope and found the other soldiers would be caught in the blast. Plus, there was more than just the one member of the Special 15th. He moved his carbine’s scope around and saw suspicious figures near seven or eight air cargo containers.

If they all used white phosphorous, all of the Legitimacy Kingdom soldiers at the crash site could be swallowed up. Without even having to breath it in, the chemical- filled smoke would wipe them all out just from contacting their skin.

(No, slaughtering us is actually convenient for them. With none of the Capitalist Corporations soldiers around, they can’t disguise burning the containers as part of the battle. It would seem unnatural if incendiary grenades went off here, so they’ll get rid of all the witnesses. If none of us can speak, the Special 15th can give any report they want. They’ll just say they were attacked by the Capitalist Corporations!)

He checked Heivia’s face through the scope. He could not make eye contact from this distance, but the boy seemed to be glancing back this way at times. He had probably also noticed the Special 15th going for the containers. However, there was nothing he could do. If he suddenly aimed his gun at the Black Uniforms without explaining the situation, he would be seen as the dangerous one.

Quenser was the only one free to protect them all.

He had to stop them from igniting those white phosphorous incendiary grenades, even if it meant sniping every last one of the Special 15th.

But…

(Can I do that?)

At this point, he was not about to question the morality of killing someone.

He had cutting-edge military equipment with plenty of guidance by sensors, but he was used to using explosives. He had never been trained in using a carbine.

(There are allies all over the place. If I miss, who knows where the stray bullet will fly. And the Black Uniforms might panic and pull the pin on the white phosphorous. Can I really do this? Even if this is a semiauto, there are eight of them. They’re everywhere from one hundred to four hundred meters away. Can I really snipe each one in turn without any one of them moving their fingers in the confusion?)

He was breathing heavily.

He felt faint.

He knew what he had to do, but a strange weight pressed down on him. He could not bring himself to actually take action. He knew the conditions for success would only grow more severe as time passed, but he still could not.

And then…

“Honestly, what a useless gentleman. Let me see that.”

The scent of rosy perfume stood out in the grassy smell of the sunflower field.

The next thing he knew, a hand had reached in and grabbed the carbine from him.

The action was done so naturally that he found himself simply watching.

A girl crouched on one knee next to him.

She had a golden cascade of hair, white skin, and a dazzlingly blue dress that looked out of place on the battlefield. As she peered through the scope, she did not use a military technique meant for killing human beings. She instead used the hunter’s stance of a noble who wished to elegantly pursue her prey.

But then she looked puzzled.

“What is all this additional junk? …Honestly, this is only in the way.”

She removed and tossed aside the Legitimacy Kingdom accessories that Quenser had added on. Only then did she peer through the scope again.

She boldly raised her jaw, yet her skin was so pale it almost looked sickly.

She moved her lips while staring at her prey and not him.

“I do not require a spotter either. Inexperienced advice would only trip me up.”

That was her cue.

Four hundred meters away, the head of a Black Uniform neatly jerked to the side. She had gone for the most distant target first. The bullet had passed right by Heivia and their many other allies. From there, she shot the remaining targets in order of decreasing difficulty. Even if it was a semiauto weapon, there was only a gap of about a second between shots. The movement would have been impossible without using the recoil of each shot to shift her aim to the next target.

But rather than a great feat, she made it look easy.

It was like a scene from a Western or a samurai film. It felt like the stage had already been set for this exact resolution and she was simply approaching the conclusion.

In no time at all, only one target remained.

It was the flat-chested young woman with her trademark forehead showing between her long black hair.

She was caught off guard and looking in the wrong direction entirely. As the Special 15th woman moved her trembling lips to mutter something, a carbine bullet mercilessly pierced the side of her head.

“Even a wild rabbit would struggle to live more than this. How boring.”

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Finally, the Legitimacy Kingdom soldiers notice the sniper fire and acted like they had poked a hornet’s nest. But the girl in the blue dress was not worried. She shoved the carbine back into Quenser’s hands, slowly stood from her crouching position, and used a hand to brush back the golden cascade of her hair.

“This is merely a portion of ''noblesse oblige'', so you need not thank me. It is a noble’s duty to reach out a helping hand to a wandering commoner.”

“Who…are you?”

“Oh, right. This is technically a surprise visit, isn’t it? I assumed that was only an excuse for the press and that everyone here would already know.”

That phrase resurrected a memory.

Could it be?

“I am Azureyfear Winchell.”

Just before vanishing into the sunflower field again, she looked back.

The pale-skinned girl in the middle of the desert battlefield provided another name.

“Or as a commoner, perhaps you would know me as the Blue Rose of Winchell.”