"You didn't kill him?"

Minami was squatting on the ground as she spoke, using an induction cooker to heat the remaining half cup of homemade tea, emitting a pungent smell.

The noise outside the tent faded away, and Nelson slipped into the tent with a gloomy old face, silently tidying up the things on the table. Grabbed the remaining half pack of cigarettes, stuffed one into his mouth, lit the fire, and took a deep puff.

"Nope."

"Why?"

"I don't know."

"Hmm." Minami snorted, seemed to understand something, and didn't seem too interested.

"What do you mean?" Nelson frowned.

"I'd have killed him instead." The teacup is raised at the south end.

"You mean I..."

"I'm not done yet. However, it is your duty and right to determine whether or not to terminate a member of the group, including me. This is the right that ZERO gives you, which means that ZERO believes in you, and it also means that I will not question your decision, just as I will not question ZERO. ”

"It's really ・・・・・・ easy way to live."

Nelson smiled wryly and flicked his cigarette and took another deep puff.

"That's the weight you have to carry. You're not like us, Nelson, I, we're just fighters, we're guns, we're bullets, we're bayonets, but we're not murderers. We are not responsible for the lives we have taken, legally, morally or morally. We don't need to think, and we can't think. Imagine that you pull the trigger, but the gun in your hand is hesitant to spit out the bullet. No one would want a weapon like that, would they? But..."

Nan picked between her teeth with her tongue and spat out the residue.

"But a soulless weapon is nothing more than a killing machine, a senseless killing, no different from the Empire. That's why you're here. As murderers, as people who bear the consequences, instead of us being tortured by our conscience, the struggle of human nature, instead of us being tormented by nightmares at night. You can't show weakness, you can't waver, you can't regret it, even if you know that whatever choice you make will be sacrificed. Remember... The dead do not cry, only the living suffer. That's the price you're going to pay, the weight you share with ZERO. ”

Nelson looked at the cigarette butt in his hand, his lips pursed.

"South."

"Huh?"

"How are you..."

"Figured it out?"

"No, how did you accept this qiē?"

"Ahh Well... If you were there that day, you would be able to understand it. ”

"What do you mean?"

"We ・・・・・・ fighting that day."

Minami put down her teacup and hung her head, soaking in the memories of that time.

"I'm so tired, I can't feel anything, I'm fighting as if I'm being controlled by something, only my body is fighting... All of us, almost all of us, were praying and praying that we would be the next to die, but somewhere in the back of our minds, a voice kept screaming, desperately trying to stop me from shooting myself in the cockpit. Keep telling me, live, live, try your best to live... The voice became weaker and weaker, and finally, a string in my brain snapped and snapped. Nan snapped her fingers. At that moment I felt something being taken out of my chest, I didn't know what it was, all the parts of my body were thinking about me reporting bad news, I could still feel the pain, even clearer than ever, but... how to put it, I suddenly didn't care. ”

"Don't care?" Nelson didn't get it.

"Ah, I just don't care, these 'feelings' and even 'feelings' can no longer affect me. From that moment on, the bullet kept flying away from me, grazing past me as if I were transparent, probably smelling like I was dead. The world suddenly became clear, and everything I couldn't see or figure out could suddenly be understood・・・・・・ what I lost should be the 'survival instinct'. ”

Nelson couldn't speak for a long time.

He had heard about the Ten-Day War, but ・・・・・・

There is no doubt that the man in front of him, the "guy who crawled out", on that day, surpassed the limits of humanity at the cost of giving up a part of human nature.

That's painlessness on the soul level.

The so-called "pain", the so-called "fear", is essentially nothing more than a warning measure for the body to avoid death and danger. Just as humans fear the darkness for no reason.

And this man is not afraid, because he has lost the obsession to "live", pain and fear are just electrical signals of the nervous system for him, and he observes these indices as if he were reading a meter.

For Nelson, it's a more painful price than death.

"I see..."

Nelson muttered.

This is one of the last nine remaining pilots in the Ten Day War.

"I see, the 'Decameron'・・・・・・."

"Nothing remarkable." Nan bared his teeth and smiled.

Decamer.

As if out of thin air, they slaughtered in war zones around the world, becoming the Grim Reaper of the Imperial soldiers.

Their existence completely changed the status quo of the Black Knights, whose spearhead was only the deputy commander and Suzaku. It has played a key role in the current situation of the organization's overall expansion around the world. And as a manifestation of their importance, the lieutenant commander even once made the decision to cover the retreat of a certain Decameron even if he sacrificed a warband of four hundred men.

The Imperial military came to the conclusion that fighting them 1V1 was an instant kill, three people would die, and a team of five people might be able to delay the other party's footsteps, and if they wanted to take their lives, they had to assemble a company and kill them.

Some say that their actions are ghostly and unpredictable. Some say they are like drones, they don't have the slightest anger in their actions, but they never make mistakes.

Even, some people think that the best of the Decameron has the qualifications to compete with the Knights of the Round Table・・・・・・

"Round table?"

Nan smiled awkwardly when she heard Nelson's question.

"I'm still far away, Hayato should have responded about the same, uh..." Minami said, turning his gaze hesitantly outside the tent. "That kid, Jian'er... Give him another year, it should be about the same, right? After all, there has been a record of 11 units in 30 minutes... Unfortunately, these are empty words, and our hardware level is too bad. Not to mention the round table, I'm afraid that there will be two floating airframes ・・・・・・ at random. ”

As he spoke, the tablet in Nelson's hand suddenly lit up. The two looked at each other, and Nelson quickly connected the decoder.

It was a letter from the deputy commander approving the operation.

――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――

The man, whose hair was stabbing into the sky like a steel needle, was lying on the couch, holding his head and smiling with pleasure. The two canine teeth glistened with cold light, and the smile did not soften his image in the slightest, but resembled a poisonous snake preparing to stab its prey from its burrow.

Some of the beauties around the warblers and swallows were busy peeling the grapes, removing the cores, and then feeding them to his mouth; Others bartended to him in a pleasing way that looked like they were professionally trained. Some pinched their shoulders, some rubbed their legs, and some simply fell into his arms, unbuttoning his collar, so that his idle hand could have a place to work.

This kind of battle is rare even in the imperial family.

It's not that you can't, but it's the reserve of the royal family. This made the man on the sofa look like some underworld boss, but the strange thing was that these fat and thin people around him were all wearing military uniforms.

The man was the Tenth Knight of the Round Table in the Empire.

Luciano Bradley, known as the vampire.

This man just broke into the headquarters of the Persian Ghairash base, and let his subordinates set up his Xiaoyao Palace, ignoring it, no, because he was enjoying the gaze of the surrounding staff, and only did the business of the wine pond and meat forest.

As for the beauties around him, don't think it's just that he has a special habit of uniforms, they are all real soldiers, but they are not part of the Imperial Establishment, but Brandley's personal army. It was the "Valkyrie Team", which was famous in the country.

"Sir Bradley."

A staff officer, forced by his superior's numerous glances, timidly stood in front of Brandley.

"Huh~~~~~?"

"Next is the weekly meeting time at our base...

【Bang!! 】

Brandley slammed the cocktail glass to the ground, pushed the woman in his arms away, sat up, and smacked his lips again and frowned.

"You."

Raising his head slightly, his gaze swept over the woman who was making the cocktail for him, and patted the sofa next to him, his movements gently.

"Here."

Everyone stopped what they were doing, and there was not even a sound of panting in the huge headquarters.

That's the Knights of the Round Table! One person is below ten thousand people! The pinnacle of human combat power!

The woman froze there, her hands trembling as she held the plate.

"Come, sit here." Bradley said it again.

The woman sat down as she was told, her body stiffened, her eyes staring at the ground, and her tears fell to the ground uncontrollably.

Bradley stooped down to pick up the pieces of the goblet on the ground, put his arm around the woman's shoulders, and placed it in front of her eyes to play with.

"I don't think ・・・・・・ taste right... You tell me? Baby? ”

“・・・・・・”

"I can't hear you."

"・・・Lemon ・・・・・・"

"Huh?" Brand pinched her chin with his hand and pressed it to his ear. "I can't hear you!"

"Lemon juice!"

"That's right!! I'm asking you to come over and tell me what's missing here! Isn't that the end of it?!! Simple, isn't it?!! Yes?!! Do I eat people?!! ”

"I'm sorry," the woman said silently.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Brandley."

"Well, that's right."

Brandley laughed contentedly, wiping away her tears with his fingers.

"It's okay, baby. I know, I know, it's not your fault, you didn't mean to, right? They didn't prepare lemons for you, did they? It's... Uh..." Brandley looked up just in time to see the staff officer who had come over to speak. "It's all his fault! You! ”

Brandley smiled beastly.

"Say, why do you want to harm me?"

"Hurt you?!" The staff officer broke out in a cold sweat when he heard this.

What is this madman talking about?

"You know that I can't see a woman crying, but you deliberately scared my baby into this way, and I feel bored to live when I see her like this. Ahh I want to break my heart to death in this way. It's despicable・・・・・・"

It's a madman!!

This man is a madman!!

"My lord! Why do you..."

"I'm still close to a terminal illness, um... five minutes, five minutes, I have a lemon in front of me. You know, that pale yellow, olive-like shape, good-smelling fruit. Five minutes. ”

With that, Brandley took out a long-barreled revolver from his bosom, and lit it on the three of them in turn with his drunken eyes, muttering something in his mouth.

“enie.minie.moe

Catch.a.redneck.by.his.toe

If.he.hollers.let.him.go

anie.minie.moe

My.mama.told.me.to.pick.the.best.on

andyouareit!haha! ”

The muzzle of the gun finally stopped in front of his own eyes.

Brandley smiled brighter and brighter, slowly pressed his gun to his temple, clicked, and pulled the firing pin with his thumb.

"Four minutes and forty seconds." As he spoke, he stared deeply into the staff officer's eyes.

The staff officer's feet trembled, and he stepped back step by step, until he hit the door frame and suddenly woke up, and rushed out as if he were crazy.

Lunatic! Lunatic! Lunatic! Lunatic! Lunatic! Lunatic!!!

He could see from the depths of the madman's eyes that the other party was definitely not joking.

Two minutes.

He had to pull a lemon out of the desert!!

"Your Excellency." The woman's voice rang out behind Bradley.

"Ah~~~?"

Brandley tilted his head and looked backwards behind him.

"The Black Knights began to move, in the direction of Glenn Harbor." The woman flipped the tablet over in her hand so that the other party could view the details.

"Hmm~~~~"

"Shall we prepare?"

"No, what if you scare them away."

"Ambush?"

"It's boring."

Brandley stretched.

What's the point of fighting in an ambush?

No fun.

Just a day earlier, Brandley's forces had intercepted communications from the Black Knights and learned of their plans to seize the port.

Without informing any units, he flew from the European theater of operations to the Middle East with his armament on his own, and stationed at the base of Gaelash, which was closest to the port.

Plan?

No.

He didn't have a plan.

Unlike other knights of the Round Table who broke their heads and fought their way up, he was content with the status quo.

All he wants is the war itself.

Blood, smoke, corpses, fear, despair, human wails.

He was deeply in love with Britannia, the country that created a paradise world.

He was an animal in human skin.

Calculations, intrigues, plans, ambushes, what's so fun about that?

The other party doesn't even have time to scream, does he?

He flew all the way to nip the war in the bud, on the contrary, those who did such things should be hanged!

He had come to enjoy the war.

In those senseless attachments, those beliefs, those so-called justice, they persevered until the last second, in the most fiery moment when those fragile lives bloomed, in that moment, crushed them.

The world is so beautiful.

Ah, of course. If the lemon can't come, none of this can be discussed.

Brandley looked at the time on the big screen.

There are two minutes and forty-three seconds left.