God of Blackfield

Chapter 221.2: Which Bastard Gave the Order? (1)

“Fallen noble families usually use different names because their family name often causes them inconveniences since some people contempt us for it. We do use it when we’re putting our life on the line or making a promise we intend to never break, though. It makes us seem pretty cool too,” Gérard said.

Kang Chan chuckled, making Gérard grin and laugh as well.

“Are you the top dog of the Foreign Legion’s special forces now?” Kang Chan asked.

“As of the moment, yes.”

Noticing Kang Chan’s curious gaze, he rubbed the end of his cigarette on the truck’s wheel to put it out. “I submitted my request to be discharged.”

“You better cancel that,” Kang Chan authoritatively replied.

Gérard just turned and looked at him in response.

“Stay there a little longer. I’ll have put you in charge of the entire special forces, not just the thirteenth regiment.” When Gérard tilted his head. He continued, “I’ll join you soon, I promise. There’s something I want to do.”

“Will I be doing whatever that is with you?”

Kang Chan glanced around their surroundings before nodding a little.

“Does it require the entire special forces?”

“Maybe.”

“Then I suppose I’m the only person who can do it,” Gérard confidently replied. He sounded a lot more composed and confident than a certain someone saying, “Fuck! I’m the only one for that role!”

“Africa suddenly seems like a fantastic place,” Gérard joked.

“Don’t act out too much and keep a low profile.”

“I will, Cap. You can leave it to me.”

Kang Chan crushed the tip of his cigarette on the ground and put the butt down next to the truck.

Du du du du du du.

Not long after, more damningly loud helicopter noises echoed in the air.

“Let’s go.” Gérard stood up. The rest of the soldiers followed suit.

Under normal circumstances, they would have prioritized treating the wounded first if they had a decent medical team and proper medical equipment. However, in this situation, making their way to Kabul as fast as they could seemed to be the better option.

Du du du du du du.

Three Chinook helicopters landed on the ground, their large frames looming over the soldiers.

Under Kang Chan’s command, they carried the critically wounded aboard the aircraft first, followed by the hostages, and then a mix of Korean and French soldiers.

As a precaution, they remained prepared for any potential fight breaking out during their flight.

Du du du du du du.

Kang Chan, Seok Kang-Ho, and the French soldiers stepped into the helicopter carrying the hostages they rescued.

The dried blood had hardened his mask so much that it was practically cracking. He was covered with soil, dust, and blood as well.

Turning around, Kang Chan unknowingly grinned at what he found. Not only did he not realize that the youngest member of the French special forces team had already gotten on board, but the man already had one foot on the helicopter door and his rifled aimed outside too. A safety harness was attached to his back, of course.

This was how a special forces team was completed. Once the lessons from hellish operations like this started to accumulate, a soldier’s attitude toward something less significant such as training would begin to change as well.

The sun still hadn’t set yet.

The desolate field could be seen through the helicopter door. The eerie winter wind rapidly rushed inside and left just as quickly.

The hostages had crouched down, huddled together.

They were probably having the worst experience of their lives. They had to sit down in the middle of a battlefield, so their legs were probably damp with blood, the metallic smell of which likely still lingered under their noses. To make matters worse, images of the hostiles the soldiers killed and the girls’ corpses would be stuck in their minds for a while.

Du du du du du du.

One of the female hostages peeked at Kang Chan.

***

When they arrived at the airport in Kabul, they found an official from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs waiting for them.

“The hostages will be taking a civilian aircraft from here. Thank you for your hard work,” the official said.

Kang Chan walked with the hostages to the bus they would take. There were swarms of reporters at the building of the airport, but military personnel were preventing them from getting closer to the runway.

“Hurry on inside the bus please,” the official instructed the hostages politely but with urgency.

The hostages seemed relieved but anxious about parting ways with the soldiers who kept them safe all this time. There was a mix of emotions in their expressions.

Even as they stepped onto the bus, no one managed to express their gratitude toward the soldiers. It wasn’t that they didn’t want to. They were just so genuinely shocked by what happened that it was difficult for them to say anything. They were essentially still in a daze. Fully aware of that, the soldiers found no reason to feel hurt for not being thanked or appreciated.

“We’ll get going now. On behalf of all the citizens of South Korea, thank you so much. You made me proud to be Korean,” the official said as he firmly shook Kang Chan’s hand. When the official got into the bus, the doors closed behind him.

Kang Chan walked back to the airplane.

The French soldiers were standing with Gérard, and the Korean soldiers were standing around Seok Kang-Ho and Kwak Cheol-Ho.

“Have a safe trip back,” Gérard told him.

Kang Chan grinned as Gérard saluted him, the rest of the French special forces team following suit. He and the Korean soldiers returned the gesture.

“Let’s go,” Kang Chan announced.

Nothing good would come from staying too long in front of flashing cameras and broadcasting channels.

Seok Kang-Ho walked to Kang Chan’s left, and Kwak Cheol-Ho followed him from the right.

Clunk, clunk.

When they entered the aircraft, they found cots with blood bags and IV lines waiting for the injured soldiers. Three individuals in white gowns were standing next to them.

Beep.

The doors of the aircraft closed.

Ding, ding, ding, ding.

Before Kang Chan could even properly sit down, the transport plane’s red lights blinked. It had begun to take off.

Click.

Kang Chan and all the team members took off their helmets and then their bandanas. It felt like a breath of fresh air after taking off the masks that had been wrapped around their faces the entire time, but everyone had pieces of dark, stiff blood stuck to their faces.

Eeeerng!

The transport plane briskly raced down the runway and soon ascended.

This was not their first rodeo, so Seok Kang-Ho naturally stood up and wobbled over to bring a bottle of water and poured it over Kang Chan. It looked like the other guys would have to stack more experience based on how they were still in their seats just because the plane was on takeoff.

Kang Chan washed his face, then poured some water on Seok Kang-Ho in return. After washing his face and drinking enough water, he finally felt as if the world was back to normal.

“Do we have any coffee?” Kang Chan asked.

The soldier washing his face quickly headed to the back and shouted, “There is, sir!”

They all drank coffee together.

Looking around the plane, Kang Chan met Yoon Sang-Ki’s gaze, who was lying on a cot.

“Want some?” Kang Chan offered.

“Yes, sir,” Yoon Sang-Ki mouthed.

His comrades all sniggered at him. Not long after, someone went over to pour him a bit of coffee. The medical officer expressed his dissatisfaction, but he didn’t dare try to stop him from drinking it.

They stacked up a mountain of C-rations in the middle and dug into it together. As they did, the medical officer checked each of the soldiers’ injuries starting with Kang Chan. Still, even as the officer stitched up their wounds, no one stopped eating.

Kwak Cheol-Ho, who was looking over the soldiers, laughed in disbelief. Noticing his teeth were covered with the chocolate he was chewing, everyone laughed back at him.

Just moments ago, the soldiers were depressed because they felt sorry for their injured comrades, but they were now chuckling next to those same people as they ate.

They had nothing to feel guilty about, having realized that even if they were the ones lying on those beds, they would not feel resentment toward the others just because they were filling their stomachs after such a long and tiring battle.

“Kwak Cheol-Ho,” Kang Chan called.

“Yes, sir,” Kwak Cheol-Ho replied, changing his expression to one that Seok Kang-Ho or Gérard would wear.

“If you can, you should all take turns going on three-day leaves. If you overwork yourselves while you’re all in that condition, you will inevitably cause issues in the next operation.”

“Understood, sir,” Kwak Cheol-Ho obediently replied.

Kang Chan glanced at each of the soldiers.

“With the ability that you’ve shown me in this operation…” Kang Chan trailed off.

The soldiers seemed to be dying to know what he was about to say.

“You will be at the top of the game wherever you go. Good work, all of you,” Kang Chan continued.

“You too, sir,” the soldiers replied.

After eating to their heart’s content, they drank more cups of coffee. The soldiers then began to lie down one after another to get some rest.

Kang Chan leaned against the wall of the plane.

He could not save any of the girls. Even though he was laughing, eating, and drinking coffee with the others, the girls’ faces continued to linger in a part of his mind.

I should’ve been able to save at least one of them like I did in Africa. If only I was more powerful… If only I had enough power to make the Americans think twice about launching that missile…

It was currently evening in Seoul.

No, with a time difference of about four hours and thirty minutes, Korea was probably under the dead of the night already. Kang Chan pulled out the phone that he kept in one of his pockets.

Kang Dae-Kyung, Yoo Hye-Soo, Lanok, Jeon Dae-Geuk, and Kim Hyung-Jung were probably all waiting for his call.

Kang Chan called Kim Hyung-Jung first.

- Mr. Kang Chan! This is Kim Hyung-Jung speaking.

Kang Chan laughed at the loud voice. He sounded as if he was shouting.

- Good work, Mr. Kang Chan. You’ve done a truly remarkable job.

Kim Hyung-Jung was speaking so fast that Kang Chan didn’t even have the opportunity to reply to anything.

- Wait just a moment, please.

Kang Chan still hadn’t been able to get a word in.

- Chan.

Jeon Dae-Geuk’s gruff voice came from over the line.

- Well done. You’ve gone through a lot. Thank you.

Each of his words relayed the mixed emotions he felt through the call.

- We have never been prouder.

Kang Chan could only laugh.

- Get some rest for now. We can talk about the rest in person.

“Understood, sir,” Kang Chan responded. That was the only sentence he managed to get into the call before it ended, but it was more than enough.

Whoosh.

The plane steadily headed for Korea. They could finally go home.