Chapter 240.2: Even If My Life Is Filled With Tears (1)

Kang Chan glared at the enemies as he reproached Kang Chul-Gyu in his mind.

You shouldn’t have done anything to be sorry for in the first place! You chose your country and soldiers over everything else, but that is not an excuse to treat your fucking family like shit!

Their enemies were now only six hundred meters away.

“Thank you,” Kang Chul-Gyu suddenly added.

“For what?” Kang Chan asked.

“For giving me the chance to die in a place like this.”

“I wasn’t the one who made that decision. It was Director Kim.”

Kang Chul-Gyu nodded. “Thank you for remembering my son as well.”

Their opponents would only have to cover fifty more meters now before Kang Chan would have to pull his trigger. As soon as he began firing, the gates to the hell that he was too familiar with would open wide. Nevertheless, he still found the time to glare sharply at Kang Chul-Gyu.

“Do you really regret what you’ve done to your son?”

Kang Chul-Gyu’s smile at that moment seemed to be the perfect example of a pained smile.

“Make up an excuse for why you beat him up so much, then,” Kang Chan ordered.

They only had thirty meters left.

“Don’t you have anything to say?” he questioned, spite coating every word he uttered.

“I’m sorry,” Kang Chul-Gyu replied.

“Enough. Just explain why you did something so despicable.”

Kang Chul-Gyu quieted down, pressing his lips shut.

“What did he do that was so fucking wrong that you had to beat him up?! Why did you treat your son that way when all he was doing was trying his best?!”

“I’m—” Kang Chul-Gyu began.

“You want to die? Do you even understand how your son felt when he left for France to die? You lived your life as you saw fit, so I doubt you have any regrets! What about your son, though? Your innocent wife?! What did they do to you that was so wrong they had to be treated like shit?!” Kang Chan roared.

The enemies had narrowed down the distance to five hundred meters.

Kang Chan and Kang Chul-Gyu gritted their teeth as they glowered at each other, but they had to put an end to their conversation now. After all, the gates of hell were about to open.

Swiiiish! Swish!

The incoming opponents kicked up a heavy storm of dust into the wind.

“Son, I’m sorry,” Kang Chul-Gyu muttered as if he was talking to himself just before Kang Chan could pull the trigger.

Kang Chan just brushed it off, though. Anyone could say something sentimental to themselves when they were in the face of death.

Pft.

How could the DMZ King say something so pathetic, though? It was a waste of such a good title.

For now, Kang Chan decided to focus on the driver’s seat of one of the trucks that was driving straight toward them.

Baaang!

As the truck slowly came to a halt, all hell broke loose.

Baaang! Baaang! Baang! Baaaaang!

Within the same second, both sides began to trade shots.

Baaang! Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang! Clang! Bang, bang! Clang!

Sparks flew and metallic sounds echoed as the enemies’ bullets hit the buildings.

The effective weapon range of a rifle was fifty meters. Shooting at targets further than that or anywhere close to a hundred meters had little to no meaning unless it was to provide cover or prevent the enemy from coming closer. There would always be a risk of a stray bullet killing someone, but it was a rare occurrence.

Killing someone in the middle of a battle would prove difficult for anyone except snipers. Even if the enemy was already close enough for their faces to be identifiable, failing to shoot them down was still quite common in combat.

Anyone who heard that would probably think it was an exaggeration, but it was true. People weren’t target practice dummies that would just stand still with their hands over their heads. They, too, would try to cover their heads as best as they could and open fire as soon as they saw a window of opportunity. In this dance, the two factions would repeatedly peek out of their cover to shoot, exposing themselves, then hide again in the blink of an eye.

Those who didn’t have enough combat experience wouldn’t be able to see anything in that short period. It was like sportsmen who had never joined an actual match before making mistakes or missing a goal during a penalty kick. However, the stakes in combat were incomparable to the stakes in sports. After all, making a mistake in this situation meant death.

Bang, bang, bang, bang! Clang! Baang! Pew! Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang!

The enemies’ bullets hit the barracks all over.

If Oh Gwang-Taek and his subordinates had joined this fight, they would have been nothing but sitting ducks waiting to be shot at. For every ten men he had, nine would have been killed.

Baaang!

Kang Chan pulled his trigger, and the enemy right next to the truck fell back like a log.

Baaaang!

Kang Chan’s gun spewed sparks as he shot down another enemy. The man standing next to the other truck staggered and plunged to the ground.

When their opponents stopped approaching them, Kang Chan quickly picked up his radio.

Chk.

“Hold your fire. I repeat. Hold your fire,” Kang Chan immediately ordered.

Bang, bang, bang, bang! Bang, bang, bang!

A few more rounds of bullets rang out before heavy silence enveloped the barracks. Kang Chan pressed his lips together and kept his eyes on their foes, observing how they would react.

The border patrol soldiers were the ones who supplied his team with weapons and ammunition, so their enemy most likely already had a rough grasp of how many bullets they had. Even if Kang Chan requested help now, only the border patrol would be coming to their aid. They could call China, but it would defeat the purpose of him coming all the way here. Moreover, reaching out to Russia entailed Vasili’s conditions with countless strings attached.

Kang Chan could see the enemies nonchalantly smoking in the trucks they brought.

Chk.

“Should we use the Mistral?” Kim Tae-Jin asked over the radio.

Kang Chan picked up his radio.

Chk.

“They’re probably hoping that we use it first. Once we expend it, we’ll have no way to defend against whatever firepower they bring,” Kang Chan replied, rendering Kim Tae-Jin speechless.

What the hell do those bastards want?

The easiest way out of this would be to attack during the night. Their second best option was to wait until their backup arrived.

Let’s go over this one at a time.

They still had some food left. In the worst-case scenario, Kang Chan would have to request help from China, which would mean that the enemies didn’t exactly have time on their side either.

What is it?

Kang Chan sharply scanned where their opponents were and the surrounding areas.

“Old man,” Kang Chan called, making Kang Chul-Gyu quickly glance at him. “Can you head up the barracks and stop our enemies from shooting at us?”

“Got it,” Kang Chul-Gyu replied.

It wasn’t going to be easy for someone so old to last a long time in the cold. However, Kang Chul-Gyu was the most reliable soldier Kang Chan had at the moment. They were the only ones who had managed to kill hostiles since they landed in Mongolia.

Kang Chan held his radio up.

Chk.

“Director Kim, can you come down to the barracks and keep an eye on the satellite video receiver?” Kang Chan requested. “We’re going to have to keep the situation around us under constant surveillance.”

Chk.

“Understood,” Kim Tae-Jin replied. At the same time, Kang Chul-Gyu took a step back and left, making no sounds as he did.

Kang Chan noticed Kang Chul-Gyu was moving differently from before. It seemed as if the skills he had during his glory days were naturally coming back to him the longer he stayed here.

Kang Chan looked sharply at where Kang Chul-Gyu disappeared.

If I faced an enemy who could move so quietly that they practically made no noise...

Kang Chan felt shivers run down his spine.

Pew! Clang!

A moment later, the sound of a sniper rifle echoed. A bullet then hit the barracks, letting out a noise that sounded as if the building was complaining in agony. Kang Chan deduced that the enemy sniper tried to shoot Kim Tae-Jin as soon as they saw him move.

Baaaang!

And that just now was Kang Chul-Gyu responding with gunfire.

Kang Chan sighed quietly. He had no choice but to give credit where it was due. In his mind, Kang Chan cursed at Kang Chul-Guy and told him to eat shit, but the marksmanship the old man displayed, the way he drew his bayonet from his ankle, and the movements he took that allowed him to reposition without making a sound all evidenced that he was at least as skilled as Seok Kang-Ho, perhaps even better. Kang Chan had to admit that much.

That was why Kang Chul-Gyu was the first person Kang Chan sought during urgent situations and why he felt relieved whenever Kang Chul-Gyu shot their opponents. The feeling was hard to explain.

Rustle.

Kim Tae-Jin approached Kang Chan in a way that paled to how Kang Chul-Gyu did.

“Let’s head inside,” Kim Tae-Jin said.

“Why can’t we just look at it here?” Kang Chan asked.

“We don’t have any power outlet to connect it to.”

Damn it! They should’ve given us one that has a rechargeable battery! How could they invent something so incredible but fail to think of adding a battery to it?!

Kang Chan picked up his radio and pressed a button.

Chk.

“I’m going to leave for a moment,” he informed the agents, then looked at Kim Tae-Jin and the enemies. He had to prioritize keeping the agents safe above all else.

Chk.

“Until I get back, the old man is in charge,” he declared.

Kang Chan began to make his way inside the barracks, leaving Kim Tae-Jin, who looked surprised, behind. He felt as if he could hear Kang Chul-Gyu say, “Got it,” from somewhere.

“Let’s go,” Kang Chan said, rushing Kim Tae-Jin.

“

Hm

? Oh! Yeah!” Kim Tae-Jin responded, finally brought back to his senses. He hurriedly followed after Kang Chan.

Baaaang!

Another loud M16 rifle gunshot echoed.

Kim Tae-Jin looked back in surprise, but Kang Chan just continued to walk. He was sure that it was just Kang Chul-Gyu firing another bullet.

Kang Chul-Gyu could probably differentiate the gunshots Kang Chan made from the others, too. Understanding the breathing and rhythm it took to pull the trigger made that possible.

Kang Chan felt so reassured that he felt as if Seok Kang-Ho was the one standing guard on top of the barracks.

“Damn it!” he cursed as a burst of annoyance strangely flared inside him.