I Have Returned, but I Cannot Lay down My Gun-Chapter 771: New York (17)

"Ugh...!"

"W-What is that! Something just fell from the sky!"

"It's an explosion! There's an explosion at the battalion command post—!"

Crack!

The dull thud of explosions shook the sky, and reinforced glass shards, like hail, rained down, along with the steel frames holding the glass. They struck the ground, and the heavily armed troops walking below were hit.

The glass shards could be endured, but when a steel frame as thick as a person's forearm struck someone’s head, there was no way they could hold on. In an instant, an unlucky soldier received a shock weighing hundreds of kilograms to his neck and died.

While a nameless soul was taken by death, the surviving allied forces gripped their guns and rushed into the building.

However, the battalion command post was located on the 22nd floor, and the soldiers climbing the stairs were quickly becoming exhausted.

"Huff, huff...!"

"Any connection with HQ?!"

"No connection...!"

"Don’t waste time! We’ve still got a long way to go!"

No matter how elite they were, no one could keep climbing dozens of floors while carrying a 20 kg load.

By the time they had climbed more than halfway, over 30% of them were gasping for air with voices that sounded like they were dying. Some drank the last drops of water from their canteens or collapsed on the stairs, retching.

They had barely reached halfway. No sounds could be heard from above, and only those who still had a bit of strength struggled to continue their climb toward the command post.

The command post had been placed so high to prevent anyone from reaching it, but no one had imagined that the enemy would infiltrate the building’s exterior.

How much time had passed?

The sight of blood greeted the allied forces.

"...Shit, the battalion command post has been attacked! Notify all other battalions and brigade headquarters! It's assumed that there are no survivors!"

"Ugh, damn...!"

"Find the battalion commander! Where are the enemies?!"

"Commander—Gahk!"

Boom!

Of course, by the time the Eagle Team, long gone, had left their "gifts" for those arriving late, they were already well away. Among those gifts were turrets and booby traps hidden carefully among the bodies.

International law violations? That was no longer a concern. The very meaning of "international" in international law had been shattered long ago. The UN had vanished without a trace, and only the great powers fighting to dominate Earth remained.

And in the midst of all this, the only ones caught in the crossfire were the allied soldiers.

"Aaaah...!"

"Explosion, an explosion...!"

"Don’t open the door! There’s a bomb on the door handle!"

The room, filled with the stench of blood, was once again drenched in a deafening explosion.

The door was violently crushed by the blast, and the concrete shattered into debris, but even as the allied soldiers suffered, the Eagle Team was nowhere to be seen.

Had any of them been equipped with Icarus Gear, they might have realized that the Eagle Team was heading for the roof, but that assumption was meaningless. No one knew that the Eagle Team had been casually going from building to building, grinding everything in their path to dust, and it didn’t really matter.

Soon, everyone would know. Just in a different way.

---Clang!

Laurentina and her team suddenly hovered in mid-air, and at the same time, a metallic sound echoed faintly.

However, the soldiers on the ground, now in emergency mode after learning that the battalion command post had been attacked, had no way of noticing. They didn’t know the source of the noise was something lodged in the rear of an airborne artillery vehicle.

How much time had passed?

"...What is this? Why is it moving?"

"We haven’t received orders! Don’t move... Wait. This crazy bastard, he has a gun...!"

"Something’s off! The self-propelled gun—Aaaah!"

The grinding noise was followed by a massive explosion.

The PKT 7.62mm coaxial machine gun and the 2A75 low-recoil cannon mounted on the 2S25 Sprut-SD fired, sending a deafening noise as everything around them was torn apart.

When the 125mm shell lodged in the building's lobby exploded in a ball of fire, an immense shockwave swept through the area. Soldiers who had just entered the first floor were reduced to ashes or minced meat.

However, that wasn’t the end of the attack. No matter what the soldiers inside did, the steel behemoth moved recklessly, demolishing everything in sight.

The allied forces, staring in shock at the scene, didn’t hesitate long before taking action. The self-propelled anti-tank artillery had to be destroyed.

Unfortunately, that didn’t include the rescue of the crew.

This 𝓬ontent is taken from freeweɓnovel.cѳm.

How long had it been? Someone brought out an RPG-30. What was meant for enemy tanks was nothing short of a catastrophe for the lightly armored 2S25 self-propelled artillery.

The moment the portable anti-tank missile flew toward the allied armored vehicle, another deafening explosion followed.

"Direct hit! Completely destroyed!"

"...No life signs detected inside. All three crew members are dead."

"...These... These damn bastards...!"

Boom!

One vehicle turned into a literal fiery coffin, and the officers and soldiers inside were reduced to ash in seconds. It didn’t take long for the screams from inside to disappear.

The corner of Manhattan, once filled with darkness, was now bright, and the fiery pillars of flame, burning at hundreds of degrees, pushed the darkness and cold away. Someone, watching the spectacle in awe, muttered:

"Captain Lyapunov, the chaos in the rear is escalating. Battalion Commander and Operations Chief are both confirmed dead. The most senior officer now is Captain Lyapunov."

"...The cipher?"

"It seems to have been seized."

"Only the important documents have been casually taken. Let’s pass this information to other battalions, and as of now, I’m temporarily taking command of the battalion. My first order is to pull out. We’re leaving this place."

Everyone turned in surprise, but the decision had already been made.

It wasn’t an incorrect choice. The command had completely vanished, and most of the important documents, including the cipher, had been stolen. According to reports, the command center was now a bloodbath, so it was highly likely that almost all information had been seized.

With the command post gone, retreating was the only way to preserve their strength.

"I’ve passed the message along, but I’m not sure how other battalions will react..."

"Chaos has broken out in the rear, and we couldn’t catch a single enemy agent. To catch these bastards, we’ll need to launch a nuke. And from the looks of it... it seems like there will be more screams coming from other places soon."

"What are you talking about...?"

Boom!

But the next words didn’t follow.

If you are reading this translation anywhere other than Novelight.net or SilkRoadTL, it has been stolen.

The missile launched from Governors Island, about a kilometer away, suddenly soared toward a building in Wall Street, and an enormous explosion erupted.

For a brief moment, the allied communication network was flooded with noise, and the commanding officer, shaking his head, muttered:

"We might get trapped if we don’t watch out. Once the Brooklyn Bridge, Manhattan Bridge, and Williamsburg Bridge are destroyed, we’ll be stuck here..."

"..."

"If I’d known this would happen, I should have brought a passport. Maybe if I go through customs at JFK now, I can still get in."

His not-so-joking joke spread through the cold air, but no one reacted.

It was the moment when Manhattan became a deathtrap.

"Typical of the Eagle Team, their performance is insane."

"If they hear you, they might come find you in your ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) sleep."

"The youngest operations officer should keep quiet. You know what I mean?"

"I’ll run."

"Hey, hey! Where are you going?!"

Central Park HQ, TOC.

By 5 AM, Manhattan was more chaotic than ever. The area near HQ, which should have been the coldest and most silent, was filled with endless explosions and deafening sounds—at least until just a few minutes ago.

One of TOC’s long-standing sayings was "If you leave everything to the Eagle Team, you’ll be fine," but no one ever thought that was actually true. Even if it was somewhat true, it wasn’t going to stay that way forever.

But...

"...Is this even real?"

"I told you, it's not about whether they’re mutants or not. No one can follow those people."

"...Even so, this is just..."

Suddenly, reports that had been full of horrible news shifted, and victory news filled the HQ’s briefings.

TOC, today and perhaps in the future, seemed to think that the Eagle Team would forever lead them, not as ordinary people who needed food, water, and shelter, but almost like divine agents.

Strictly speaking, the Eagle Team wasn’t the only entity contributing to the reversal of the situation. Task Force Arikon, deployed in the north, had also engaged in full combat and was successfully holding off the enemies.

But...

‘...Can we really say that people who fly between buildings, hack enemy armored vehicles and tanks, and single-handedly block escape routes are the same people?’

Even though they wore the same Icarus Gear, it seemed impossible to follow them. At least that’s how Lyapunov felt.

At first, even those wearing the same gear would tease them, asking why they couldn’t do what the Eagle Team did. But after seeing the real-time aftermath of their actions, those comments stopped.

The Eagle Team... didn’t just engage in safer, more stable combat because of their gear. They acted as if they had been given a second life, where even the slightest misstep from the Icarus Operators would lead to their death. They executed the most effective strategies, naturally, each time they were deployed in actual combat.

"Governor’s Island, Tomahawk missile launched again. 15 seconds to impact."

"Just by sending the Eagle Team to Brooklyn, I thought we'd be able to breathe a bit easier. It was something I never could’ve imagined, but it worked out, so I guess that’s good."

"...I wonder if we can put this in the manual."

After all, how could they put something like "To capture enemy armored equipment, launch a jammer near the turret’s rear antenna, then seize control" in a manual?

However, the real problem was that they had actually implemented it. Throughout South New York, the Eagle Team had seized about three vehicles in a similar way in just a few hours, successfully achieving their mission.

Thanks to that, one of the most critical targets, the Governors Island missile base, which the US had to defend, hadn’t fallen despite the fierce assault from the enemy’s airborne self-propelled artillery battalion.

While it was far from a complete victory, at least they had put out the immediate fires.

Now it was time to let the invaders know just how hard and painful it would be to invade the mainland.

"The assault on HQ’s outer walls is weakening."

"Electronic warfare intensity is decreasing. Current casualties are 37, with 8 confirmed dead. All southern gates have been damaged, and significant reconstruction will be needed."

"I'm sure the allied forces know that. We just have to buy some time..."

The holographic board scattered over maps of New York and New Jersey.

The 69th Infantry Regiment, part of the New York National Guard, was still battling against the continuing allied assault near the eastern tip of Long Island, joined by the 258th Field Artillery Regiment from Queens and the Bronx.

The 27th Infantry Brigade had moved toward Albany and was positioned on the Wimpel Line, while the 101st Cavalry Regiment, which had suffered the least casualties in the US, was still scrambling to mobilize.

The 2nd Fleet, which had lost a third of its ships in the early stages of the war, had docked in Virginia, continuously bombarding the enemy forces in Philadelphia and New Jersey, even while conducting decontamination efforts.

New Jersey National Guard forces were in chaos due to the dropped airborne troops, and Providence and Boston harbors had nearly been entirely taken over by the last Russian aircraft carrier.

What should be done in this situation?

The answer didn’t take long to come.

‘...To repair HQ, we need to thrust a dagger into the enemy’s grip and stop them.’

And all the operations officers in TOC understood what that "dagger" was.

It was clear that long-range deployment operations, or perhaps even more difficult, grueling battles, awaited them.

The combat doctrine was simple.

"Eagle Team, you’re listening, right? Let’s talk about the upcoming combat."

"It’s simple. Move across New York until it’s impossible, and crush the enemies until the very end. Do you understand?"

A brief silence followed by a sigh that could almost be heard as a complaint.

But thinking about what it truly meant wasn’t necessary.

Laurentina, on the other side of the communication, spoke:

"That’s exactly what we do best. Leave it to us. Where are we going next?"

"For now, eliminate the scattered enemies across Manhattan. Once you’re done, JTF will join the combat."

The asymmetric force that could achieve the contradictory mission of breaking and destroying the enemies was there to buy time for reorganization.

Communication was cut off, and Chief Operations Officer Kane Whitebrim slumped into his chair and sighed.

He had done everything he could, and the die was cast.

The dawn was breaking, and morning was coming.