Chapter 120: Dark Night |
"The doors have been sealed well."
Kerisa once again confirmed that both doors of the stronghold were adequately secure, subsequently dropping his butt down to sit beside Bahram.
Ever since Ford died, his words had grown fewer.
It was unknown if this was because there was no longer anyone to bicker with, or for some other reason.
Bahram was currently toasting his Compressed Ration Bar over the fire. This thing was now cold and hard, just like the pebbles on the ground. If it wasn't toasted a bit, there was no way to bite into it at all.
However, even for this kind of food, each of them only had 2 sticks.
After settling down, Bahram briefly inventoried the supplies.
Coupling what they had presently with what they had previously scavenged from the corpses, they currently had a total of 22 Ration Sticks, 486 rounds of ammunition, 8 essentially full water canteens, as well as one machine gun, 164 rounds of machine gun ammunition, one flare gun, and three flare shells.
What was rather regrettable was that the equipment of the fallen had basically not been retrieved. This included the three Smoke Grenades that had remained on Ford's body; they had presumably already been searched and taken by others.
Bahram redistributed the ammunition and food a bit, allowing everyone to eat a full meal tonight.
He even gave those two upper-hive boys an extra Ration Stick, in order to thank them for bringing the flare gun and the map over.
The bonfire turned the ice-cold stronghold warm. But the boys gathered around it all didn't say much. Within the air, there were only the sounds of chewing and difficult swallowing. Occasionally, the glugging sound of drinking water would ring out.
This situation continued straight for half an hour.
"Mhm..."
Bahram carefully took two small sips of water, then twisted the canteen cap tight and placed it by his side.
"Are you guys... alright?"
Hearing his words, the two boys sitting opposite him shared a glance, then nodded.
"Alright."
"At least still alive."
Bahram gently sighed, his shoulders also sinking down somewhat.
"You guys were very familiar with Ford, right."
"I guess. We both come from the Siva Hive. Their family has four children; he was the youngest one."
One of the boys answered in this manner.
Bahram couldn't help but think of Ford again. He remembered the scene of the other party falling to the ground and slowly ceasing breathing, and also remembered watching helplessly as Ford's body was shot through by bullets.
"I understand."
Bahram nodded.
"After the trial concludes, we all should mourn for him."
"I am a person from the Soms Hive. From Salt Town."
He spoke up on his own initiative:
"My grandfather was once a member of the upper hive, but I myself grew up in the lower hive."
This was the second time since he met Haomo that he brought up his background and family.
"Me too, but the place I came from is different from him. I come from Ironhook City."
Generally speaking, Haomo very rarely introduced himself on his own initiative. But certain things on Bahram made him willing to open his heart. This person gave him a strange sense of intimacy.
"Ironhook City, uh..."
Kerisa, who was eating his rations on the side, was stunned for a moment, then subsequently shook his head.
"You seem to know that place quite well?"
Bahram looked toward this big guy capable of carrying a heavy machine gun and running completely solo. Just now, if it weren't for him, they probably wouldn't have been able to bring that machine gun back. Therefore, Bahram had also given him an extra portion of rations.
"Mhm... that place is quite famous, and quite a mess too, probably."
Kerisa's answer was very vague, his eyes also somewhat evasive.
Haomo didn't know how to answer. The miserable life of the slums truly was difficult to describe with language. Thus, he pretended not to have heard the other party's words, instead lowering his head to arrange his own ammunition belt.
At this time, he finally noticed that his hands, covered in the dried fresh blood of others, had already become sticky.
Suddenly, a boy opposite them spoke up:
"It is quite a mess. I seem to have a bit of an impression. Several years ago, some anti-Imperium dissidents caused trouble there. I heard they occupied an ancient munitions factory. Are you referring to this matter?"
Haomo shook his head without saying a word, but painful memories surged to his mind.
At the time, his father was a law enforcement squad member belonging to the Arbites, and had sacrificed his life in combat.
That year he was 6 years old. This matter was the turning point of Haomo's life, and was also the dark moment that plunged his family into poverty and despair.
But this was only the anguish deep within his heart. He restrained them and said briefly:
"It was a matter from several years ago. In the end, those pieces of trash were all caught."
"Good result."
Bahram, ignorant of the inside story, shook his head.
"Those kinds of pieces of trash shouldn't be running amok everywhere in Soms. Wait, I must admit that peaceful days are growing fewer and fewer. Trouble is always springing up in the lower hive. Grandfather said the upper hive isn't much better either. Hopefully the arrival of the Astral Knights can change all of this."
"They won't stay here forever."
Robin suddenly said, also using a branch to poke the bonfire.
"Their journey is the vast sea of stars. This place is only a temporary foothold for them. I want to become an Astartes precisely because I like this point. I have had enough of this boring little planet already."
"Is that so?"
Bahram curiously looked at this mysterious companion. Robin's identity had always been a mystery. He also never brought it up himself. Probably only those on the Astral Knights' side knew his roots.
"Then what about you guys? For what reason do you want to become Astartes?"
He looked at the two people opposite him again.
"Honor."
They answered in unison.
"A boring reason."
Kerisa sneered.
"Only ignorant little shits blab on about honor this, honor that all day long. My goal is very direct. I just want to become stronger. I've already beaten up enough of those weaklings; I want to go beat up some tough ones! I heard the Greenskins next door are pretty ferocious."
Only Haomo grew unusually quiet. Bahram took a glance at him, worried whether he had perhaps said something wrong previously.
But before he could speak, the other party stood up, melded into the shadows by the corner of the wall, leaned there, and closed his eyes.
Dinner concluded just like this. Everyone seized the time to rest. They had all been running about for a day, and also fighting for a day. Their stamina had long since approached its limits.
However, Bahram couldn't sleep. He was pondering how the team should survive in this cruel survival game moving forward, and moreover become the victors.
Looking at the current situation, this was practically a miracle.
"That bunch of garbage has been beaten off by us."
In the jungle outside the stronghold, a pair of dark green bright spots surfaced from the darkness, followed by a second pair, a third pair...
It was just like a pack of wolves lurking within a dark and gloomy thicket.
"Shot one dead. The others directly ran away."
"Mhm."
Wearing their Camo Cloaks, they merged almost entirely into one with the nighttime jungle. Only those pairs of light spots that occasionally flared up indicated their presence.
The one leading them nodded his head, yet his gaze was continuously fixed upon the high-ground stronghold.
"Dadd, tell me. How many do they have left?"
"Mhm, judging from the corpses on the ground, probably around six."
"Do we have a chance to take them down in one breath?"
"It should be possible, but casualties will be produced."
"Then I have an idea now."
Within the darkness, Oskar let out a low, deep chuckle, gripping tight that bloodstained walkie-talkie within his hands.
