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墨書 Inktalez
Russell led the team to the signal launch site at Red Smoke.
It was unclear what had actually happened; it was possible that there had been fatalities.
Before seeing the truth, it was hard to say.
"What happened?"
Upon arriving at the scene, it became evident that all previous words were unnecessary.
The members of the Suicide Squad, known as The Old Blacks, wore grim expressions.
"You can see for yourself," one of the leading men said with a grunt.
Russell pushed past several of the men to take a closer look, his face turning pale as he did. What he saw sent chills down his spine.
This was a densely vegetated area, with the wires of landmines embedded beneath the grass.
To any observant person, there would be no sense of unease about this place.
In fact, the situation had unfolded right under their noses.
Judging by the moisture level of the turned soil, it had only been a few hours since the incident occurred.
The morning dew had irrigated the upper layers of soil, and from the dilution of moisture, this was easy to discern.
The soil had been completely uprooted, and the wires of a Nuclear Landmine had been entirely pulled out.
It was not a case of human severance.
From the clues available, it appeared that the base had been deliberately bent open with a powerful blade.
If it was a human possibility, there were only two outcomes: either stepping directly onto an explosion or cutting the fuse.
However, cutting the fuse was not something an ordinary person could do without theoretical guidance and the right tools.
So, upon reaching this point, almost instinctively, everyone came to a conclusion.
"Is there a possibility that some members of the Search Team survived?" one of the members from the Suicide Squad, who was Black, asked.
Clearly, this incident was too bizarre; it wasn't just ordinary strangeness.
After surveying the area nearby, another situation suddenly arose.
"Come over and take a look; there are other landmines that have suffered the same fate."
Upon hearing the voice, everyone rushed over.
After a professional Sapper cleared the area, they quickly unearthed a large number of Nuclear Landmines that had been secretly sabotaged.
These landmines had become duds, losing their explosive capability.
In the core of the Nuclear Landmine, explosive materials like Sulfur and other flammable substances had been hollowed out.
The twisted metal casing had been torn and bent as if by claws.
The tough metal shell had fallen apart like butter after being gutted.
Everyone present couldn't help but touch their chests, feeling fortunate to still be alive.
"If just one or two had such results, we could still affirm that there might be Survivors who dealt with the landmines in a rough manner because they wanted to find us."
"But if all twenty-five Nuclear Landmines show similar results, then we cannot rule out the possibility of Survivors. The entity codenamed Vassal, known as Evil Spirit, lurking around might very well be responsible for this."
A Sapper from the Suicide Squad carefully analyzed the situation.
"If it weren't for these Nuclear Landmines saving us last night, we might have faced an attack. We wouldn't have been able to drink, eat, smoke, and play cards like we did yesterday. Just look at this metal shell; you all know what happens when you underestimate an enemy."
"And this opponent is far more terrifying than any we've faced before. We might not even have a chance if we confront them head-on."
Russell picked up a Wooden Stick and tapped it lightly against the metal shell at his feet, responding calmly.
In that moment, everyone fell silent.
Unbeknownst to them, someone had snuffed out their cigar, and the air suddenly felt fresher.
No one spoke; the atmosphere grew heavy with silence.
"The situation is as it stands. Now we need to focus on what to do tomorrow night. The remaining Nuclear Landmines can hold for one more night, but what will we use to stop this brute of a monster?" someone suddenly asked.
"Well..." the Sapper shook his head, looking quite awkward.
His comrades turned to him, and after a long pause, the Sapper lowered his head in silence.
He didn't know what to say. The Nuclear Landmines had been dealt with so brutally; he had never encountered such an opponent before. A Nuclear Landmine capable of taking out a Heavy Tank had been dismantled so easily.
It wasn't just about how poorly made human weapons were.
The real issue was that this opponent could pinpoint the core of the Nuclear Landmine's explosive yield and dismantle it like a timed bomb.
That was the crux of the matter: a terrifying capability, or perhaps that creature was advancing at an astonishing speed.
And it was an intelligent being; who knew if it could speak or understand human writing and language?
"Could it be that you misread it?" someone asked.
"I would misread my own expertise? This is my job, you know," the person replied.
At this point, everyone's gaze once again converged on Sapper.
Sapper raised his head and glanced at the crowd. He tried to remain calm, but inwardly he muttered, "Actually, I don't know either. Why are you looking at me? I have no idea. I'm just a mine clearer, providing some testing to offer you professional knowledge. Don't think of using me as a meat shield."
"Alright, enough arguing," Russell said as he patted Sapper on the shoulder. Then he added, "If you have any thoughts or questions, now's the time to ask."
Despite Russell's words, all Sapper could manage was a face full of awkwardness and a helpless smile.
"What can a mine clearer do? You must have the wrong person," Sapper shrugged.
He picked up his toolbox and ignored everyone else's words. Even Russell's orders were futile; he calmly lined up with the others.
"Fine then," Russell said with a resigned shake of his head. "Contact headquarters or request more Nuclear Landmines to be air-dropped. Right now, we don't have any suitable methods. If we could capture some video footage, we could study its behavior patterns. But as it stands, we have nothing—no time, no tools. The difference between us and the two teams ahead is that we've done some preparation. However, preparation isn't enough; we need strategic positioning from headquarters and coordinated fire support. We should delay as much as possible and try to give ourselves some time to study it."
"Alright, I can handle this calmly," Anis interjected. "Nuclear Landmine, right? But..."
"But what?" Russell asked suspiciously.
"According to your theory, this creature possesses intelligence that might be similar to humans. It could find solutions on its own. Perhaps the difficulty of dealing with the Nuclear Landmine is relatively manageable now. Even with the same number of them, tonight it might only take half the time to resolve the situation. So what should we do? Even if we send hunters to stand guard, that doesn't necessarily guarantee safety," Anis continued.
"Oh?"
Russell was surprised that someone dared to oppose him. He had anticipated such a response but didn't expect it to come from Anis.
He had always thought of Anis as someone who would simply execute tasks without much discussion or deviation from orders.
Yet he found himself impressed by Anis's assertive yet respectful perspective.
"Do you have any good methods?" Russell asked again.
"It's simple. Just switch to a different type of mine, the newly developed trick mine would be more suitable," Anis replied with a smile.
"A trick mine? Is that really possible?" Russell seemed uncertain.
At that moment, a Black officer interrupted their conversation and suddenly asked, "Is yours a trick mine?"
"Is yours a trick mine?" he repeated, confirming he hadn't misheard.
Anis blinked and nodded, saying, "Yes, that's right. It's indeed a trick mine. This type of mine is as bizarre as its name suggests. It can be made into different shapes, and it can easily deceive humans. What's wrong with that?"
The Black officer nodded and then said, "If I'm not mistaken, this kind of trick mine is quite terrifying. Many people fell victim to it during human wars. Even military experts could make mistakes with it; using this method is the most effective."
"If it's disguised as leaves or simply placed on a well-trodden path, as soon as someone approaches it and triggers even the slightest reaction, it could cause a chain explosion," Anis said with a smile.
"A trick mine can be so sophisticated?" someone else asked.
"Yes, that's the level of sophistication we're talking about," Anis replied with another smile.
The Black officer shook his head thoughtfully and then smiled, saying, "However, I'm afraid that thing won't let itself be approached so easily. It needs to be placed on something that is absolutely likely to be touched. That's something we can't know right now. It's like knowing what color my grandmother likes; it's a mystery."
"No one can guess that. We need to think in broader terms. If you were it, what judgment would you most likely make? Of course, this assumes its intelligence truly rivals that of an adult man. If its IQ only matches that of an immature child, then we're in trouble because children act without much thought—they just do what they want."
"However, we still need to analyze separately. First, if you were it—a mature adult—what would you do?"
"Are you asking me or everyone? I think you should ask others because sometimes my IQ feels like it's negative; my behavior patterns are quite different from those of a child," Anis reflected. "A mature adult's charm mainly divides into IQ and emotional intelligence. IQ is about how you handle things; emotional intelligence is about your attitude towards people—whether you can gain public recognition and attract the opposite sex often tests your emotional intelligence. Unfortunately, I'm just someone with low emotional intelligence and high IQ, haha."
The people nearby looked at him helplessly, perhaps feeling that his words had some truth to them.
No one could boast like him; his ability to brag was both clear-headed and extraordinary, something only he could achieve.
Emotional intelligence truly tests a person's character, reflecting whether one behaves reasonably and stays on the right path.
"Uh, I know, I really shouldn't ask you," the Black Officer replied hesitantly.
"If it were you, what would you do?" Russell propped his chin on his hand, lowering his head in contemplation.
Not just him; many others present fell into deep thought, busy with their own reflections.
"Don't think too long, because if you do, your answer will definitely be wrong. That kind of approach is a reasonable reaction stemming from natural reflexes," the Black Officer quickly pointed out.
"Is that so? If that's the case, I understand," Anis said.
"Oh? I really didn't expect that. What would you do?" The Black Officer hadn't intended to include him in the discussion, but at that moment, no one else responded. Since he wanted to speak, how could they deny him that right? It was rather awkward; someone needed to lighten the mood.
Unfortunately, this made him think of Private Uto from the Logistics Department.
If he were present, Thinking would surely outpace everyone by a mile.
However, as the saying goes, there are always more talented people out there; just when you think you've seen it all, someone else rises to take the second seat.
Anis, the well-read wanderer, despite his talent, treated trivial matters as guiding principles in life.
Though he was skilled at programming, his most notable creation was merely a Bluetooth Headset-style Alchemical Bomb.
Its power was comparable to high explosives but was crafted from a model using a particle of explosive no larger than a booger. It was impressive enough that he could create something so remarkable.
"It's simple: I do what I want to do—breakthrough head-on," Anis chuckled dryly. "As a programming expert, I always hope that the software I develop will be reused. Everyone thinks this way; investors without such thoughts are fools. Compared to those illusions, only when I have the substantial rewards in hand can I feel at ease. What else is there? I suppose that monster feels the same way."
"You think he'll break through head-on this time?" The Black Officer was extremely surprised.
"Exactly," Anis nodded affirmatively.
"Then he's not afraid of getting blown up," someone laughed, and the Black Officer also nodded in agreement. His words might have been rough, but he naturally concurred.
"That's right, that's how ordinary people think. However, I, with my unique talent, don't see it that way," Anis spoke confidently. "I believe that everything we do has a reason, a fixed Logic. There are premises that lead to conclusions. Can't you see where all that twisted amount of explosives has gone?"
Where has it gone? Everyone exchanged glances, looking at each other as if they had seen a ghost.
It couldn't possibly be that they were too hungry to eat it, could it? That stuff didn't taste sweet or salty; it wasn't the precious cumin sprinkled on meat.
"Heh heh, you don't know, do you? You mortals really lack understanding of true Thinking. To me, you're just a bunch of freaks, the strangest kind."
"Stop with the nonsense and tell us where it went," someone asked impatiently.
"Want to know? Alright then, since you seem sincere, I'll tell you foolish idiots," Anis said with a mysterious smile. "It was taken for experiments, isn't that obvious? Everything done has some hidden reason behind it. Do you really think that stuff is delicious? That's absurd."
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