"Private, don't be stupid."
Hartman Paul called Glass up from where he was sitting.
Medical soldier Vannis squatted under the base of the remaining wall, leaning forward to take care of machine gunner Nek who was lying on the ground. Next to him was the opened medical bag.
Hartman walked over and took a look.
"How's it going?"
"Neck's current condition is such that he can't leave."
The medical soldier shook his head and said with regret,
"This is not an injury that a field hemostatic pack can handle. I don't think he can survive it."
Correspondent Epirus wiped his face with his hands, moved his eyes to one side, and whispered:
"Yes, I think so too."
Hartman sighed softly. Necker was a warrior. When all his comrades were killed, he went around supporting him with a heavy machine gun. He was the main reason why the position was able to survive.
"Okay, so what do we do?"
"You know what we should do, Captain."
The medic's words contained some cruel metaphor, and Hartman immediately realized it.
"I...oh, throne, I'm the leader here now, aren't I? I guess this job can only be done by me."
He walked towards Nek. The machine gunner was barely alive. His internal organs had been pierced by a long fragment. His breath was weak and his face was pale.
Hartman looked at the other man and shook his head.
"Neck, there's really nothing I can do. I'm really sorry. The medics have tried their best, but..."
"I know."
An ugly smile appeared on the machine gunner's face, which was covered in blood and dust.
Hartmann, who was struggling in his heart, lowered his head and prayed for a moment, then drew his pistol.
"This is the emperor's mercy."
After saying that, he shot Necker through the head.
"You can't do this!"
The gunner, who had been sitting on the ground resting, heard the gunfire and immediately turned his head. When he saw Hartmann shooting Necker, he immediately protested loudly and jumped up from the fallen tree where he was sitting.
Hartman looked at Necker on the ground for a brief moment, then walked away from him.
"It has been done, and I do have the right to do so. As we all know, this is what the regulations stipulate - if someone is injured and cannot continue, then it is a mercy to end his pain early, or when a person's condition is critical Senior officers have the right to exercise the emperor's mercy when other comrades around them are safe."
"Even so..."
Just as the gunner was about to speak, Lunengte put a big hand on the opponent's shoulder, and the gunner immediately swallowed his words.
"You're going to attract the greenskins by yelling about something like this, kid."
Lunante said calmly.
"We're all in the same boat right now, and we don't want to add to it now, you know what I mean?"
The gunner nodded. Although he still looked disgusted, it was obvious that he had understood what the big man meant.
There were rumors in the group that Lunengte had once been a well-known gang member, or at least the right-hand man of a gang tycoon, the kind of guy who would break people's knees or even do more cruel things for money.
At that moment, he believed it.
"My name is Sivali, Gunner, Second Class"
Hartmann Paul glanced at him.
"You are just a private now. Before you find the next cannon, I have the final say here. Everyone, hurry up and distribute the equipment. We will leave immediately."
Hartman glanced at Necker's body, bent down and took off the other man's dog tags, and whispered:
"I'll take you home."
After that, they basically didn't say anything. After simply collecting supplies and dog tags of the dead, they set off for the designated retreat location.
After leaving the position, they entered a residential area. The streets were blocked by debris scattered on the ground, but they did not find any roadblocks or fire points.
"What a mess."
Everyone slowed down and avoided some vehicle wreckage that had been destroyed by some heavy weapons. They all looked like civilian vehicles, and the thin metal plates on them were torn apart like ration packaging bags.
Hartman tried not to look closely at the carnage inside the car, because no matter who was in these cars, their charred bones should be completely entangled after death, and it would take a high-level coroner to identify them. Which body it originally came from.
However, this possibility is slim. I am afraid that only the Emperor knows who they are, and perhaps only He, the old man, would care about such a thing.
Until now, they had found no sign of survivors, but Hartman still hoped that the greenskins had given up here.
Along the way,
Bodies lay everywhere, mostly human, of all ages and genders, apparently shot to pieces or chopped to pieces with sharp melee weapons as they tried to escape.
There were also soldiers who died trying to cover the retreat of civilians.
However, the situation is not one-sided. There are also many green-skinned corpses lying around, as well as some grunts. Hartman has nothing to say about the fact that there are so many civilians in the war zone. The remaining safety of the hive is The area is getting smaller and smaller, and food and water are gradually becoming huge problems
, so it is impossible for everyone to be sheltered.
"It's been a while since the war ended."
Hartman came to the conclusion after stopping to look at the body of a captain who died protecting civilians. After the man's weapons were taken away, the greenskins killed him, looking at the wounds on a nearby grot corpse. It was judged that it was obviously a large-caliber automatic pistol.
There are at least more than a thousand corpses in this place, most of which have begun to decay. It is obviously not a day or two ago.
Lunengte nodded and stared at the green-skinned corpses in a daze, obviously hoping that he could burn them to ashes with the flamethrower in his hand.
"It looks like that."
The deeper you go to the rear, the worse the situation becomes, and you can see the barbaric atrocities of the invaders - those beasts who kill and destroy purely out of their own instincts.
Although Hartmann was usually gentle, this time he felt unable to contain his anger.
His unforgettable hatred for these aliens deepened. He could not accept that a peaceful and peaceful community was destroyed like this, especially when he learned that his hometown had suffered the same suffering not long ago. Such shame was heartbreaking. Intolerable.
At this time, the team kept moving forward in the reconnaissance queue, a few meters apart from each other, alternately covering each other from one bunker to another, relying on sign language to maintain contact, and trying to minimize the sound of communication.
When Hartman was about to leave the bunker in front of a store, Lunante suddenly raised his hand to stop everyone, and he turned around and hid in the shadow of a trash can.
"There are enemies."
This was the meaning of his sign language, and he raised his weapon.
Hartman clenched the laser gun in his other hand, squatted low, and aimed at the street outside.
It didn't take long for everyone to reach their target.
