Chapter Forty-Four: Entering the Military Camp at Midnight

There was indeed a ninth person, and it wasn't difficult to deduce. On the day when Kevin was besieged, eight attackers confronted him, and three managed to escape. Eventually, the bodies of those three were discovered downstream of the Felu River. Although on the surface it seemed that everyone involved had died at the scene, the situation appeared more like an effort to silence witnesses.

The Felu River ran across the Poisonous Forest, and judging by the timing, those three were killed almost immediately after Kevin left, their bodies tossed into the river to be carried downstream and found later.

So, who killed these three? It was quite reasonable to suspect a ninth person. Kevin had examined one of the corpses and found the cause of death to be a blunt force trauma to the back of the head. In a direct confrontation, it's rare for someone to be struck from behind; such an injury suggested either a surprise attack or treachery from a companion.

Of course, there was another possibility: someone had a spatial ring containing a corpse. Everyone had their faces covered at the time, making identification impossible. By dressing the corpse in their own clothes and pushing it into the river, an escape could have been staged.

However, spatial rings were advanced magical equipment, strictly regulated at the border, so this scenario was less likely.

So, who was this ninth person? Why didn't they reveal themselves during the battle? Was it simply a matter of lacking confidence? To be frank, had the gorilla arrived any later, Kevin might not have survived. If the attackers had all joined forces from the start, Kevin would surely have been defeated.

Could it be that the mastermind preferred to stay hidden? That seemed implausible. The dense insect population in the Poisonous Forest meant everyone wore thick head coverings, making it impossible to recognize anyone. Unless the mastermind's combat abilities were lower than those of the mercenaries, so much so that they couldn't even participate in a rookie-level skirmish. But that was illogical. If they were so weak, how did they later manage to kill three of their own?

The existence of the ninth person was undeniable, yet despite Laulu claiming to have found a scent trail on this side, Kevin couldn’t fully trust him. Kevin suspected Laulu was simply trying to frame the local officers for his own gain. But the ninth person Laulu mentioned certainly existed.

Why didn’t they appear at the time? Kevin recalled the assassin who had delivered a severed head—was it connected? He remembered the bloody handprint he found on a tree shortly after entering the Poisonous Forest, and noted the lack of bruising on the corpse’s pelvis. There were many possibilities; much remained to be investigated.

The best outcome from this investigation would be ironclad evidence, ideally implicating a high-ranking officer on this side. That was the ideal scenario. In reality, Kevin knew the ninth person was likely a minor figure.

If the ninth person were a high-ranking officer with significant power, Kevin and his companions would have been eliminated instantly. Laulu was obviously aware of this, which is why he targeted the head of security—but he failed.

Now the task fell to Kevin, but he couldn’t follow Laulu’s path; he lacked Laulu’s abilities, and if Laulu had failed, Kevin had even less chance of success. All Kevin could do was pursue the faintest clues to uncover the true identity of the ninth person. But if it was only the ninth person, the catch would be insignificant; ideally, it would lead to someone more important.

The ambassador and Laulu had agreed to let Kevin take over, partly because there were no other available options, and partly because they recognized Kevin’s competence.

Late at night, Little Spoon and Little Nine flanked Kevin, leaping across rooftops at speed. Wind roared in Kevin’s ears, the scenery flashed by in a blur, rising and falling, and his heart pounded.

“You’re using battle energy, aren’t you?” Kevin asked, trying to distract himself.

“Yes,” Little Spoon replied, “but our shoes are double-layered. The battle energy glows in the inner layer, so it’s not visible from the outside.”

Little Nine fretted, “What if we get ambushed again?”

“We’re heading to the military medical tent, which shouldn’t be heavily guarded,” Kevin answered. “There’s always risk, but if we do nothing, nothing will ever progress.”

They fell silent; after all, it wasn’t easy to talk while speeding along, the wind whipping at their faces. Soon, they crossed the outer perimeter of the camp and hid beside a tent.

“This camp’s huge. Where’s the medical tent? Should we grab a soldier and ask?” Little Spoon wondered.

“Ask,” Kevin ordered. “Save time, but don’t pick a guard on patrol! Find someone sleeping inside the camp, preferably in a single-person tent.”

“Alright!” Little Spoon nodded. “I’ll go first!” She vanished in a blink.

Little Nine was puzzled. “Why grab someone sleeping? Books usually say to catch a guard.”

“Guards rotate shifts, monitor each other, and there are patrols,” Kevin whispered. “If a guard goes missing, it’s noticed immediately. Those sleeping inside don’t have that problem. Single tents mean officers—they know more and don’t rotate shifts.”

“Oh.” Little Nine was clearly naive, her rank of ninety-nine among assassins well earned.

Suddenly, Little Spoon dragged someone before them, covering his mouth with her left hand and pressing a dagger to his throat. The man wore only underwear, obviously snatched from his bed; with the heat, many soldiers slept in their shorts.

“Speak! Where’s the medical tent?” Kevin, already masked, demanded.

Terrified, the man pointed out the direction. Kevin promptly ordered him knocked out, gagged, and hidden away. The trio carefully avoided patrols; both Little Spoon and Little Nine, though rookies, had adequate skills and vision. Navigating a third-rate camp posed no challenge.

Soon, they found a tent marked with a red cross and slipped inside.

The camp’s chaplain was startled awake, finding three black-clad figures crouched by his bed, daggers at his throat.

“Don’t scream!” Kevin warned quietly.

“What do you want?” the chaplain asked, frightened.

“A few questions!” Kevin replied. “Is this the only military camp for the main city’s army? Are you the sole medic here?”

“Hmph!” The chaplain sneered. “You think I’ll tell you? I’m a soldier!”

Kevin frowned and turned to Little Nine. “We don’t have time to waste; charm him directly!”

“Alright.” Little Nine switched places with Kevin, leaning close to the chaplain, then produced a book and placed it in front of him. “Here, look at this!”

She bent the book and flipped the pages rapidly, creating a flurry of sound.

Kevin was surprised. “Is that how she does it?”

Little Spoon nodded vigorously. Little Nine explained, “Flipping the book like this creates moving images! You don’t understand—this is the prelude to charm!”

Kevin: “…”

Little Nine flipped the book back and forth twice more. Kevin couldn’t see the contents from his angle, and now wasn’t the time to try.

The chaplain snorted, “Showing me this won’t work! I’m asexual!”

Everyone: “…”

“I’ll handle this!” Little Spoon snapped, stabbing her dagger beside the chaplain’s ear. “Don’t be stubborn. Refuse, and you die!”

The chaplain’s face stiffened, tense but silent.

“Forget it,” Kevin said, pulling out two gold coins. “Cooperate, and these are yours.”

The chaplain’s demeanor changed instantly; his eyes bulged at the coins.

“Perfect!” Little Nine whispered, snatching the coins from Kevin and tossing them back and forth between her hands. The chaplain’s eyes followed, becoming increasingly vacant and dazed.

“How many camps does the main city have?” Little Nine asked gently.

“Two,” the chaplain answered automatically.

“Which two?” Little Nine pressed.

“This one, and one under the city lord,” the chaplain replied.

“How many medics besides you?” Kevin asked.

“Three more,” the chaplain answered.

“Show me the latest treatment reports,” Kevin demanded.

“They’re in that cabinet,” the chaplain replied.

Kevin got up, found the medical log, and checked it by the window in the firelight outside. Little Spoon joined him. “Anything?”

“I’m checking records around the time of the Poisonous Forest battle, late afternoon,” Kevin answered absently.

“So, that’s the ninth person?” Little Spoon wondered.

“Not necessarily, but it’s likely.” Kevin finished reading and closed the log. “Let’s go; we need to check the other medics.”

Little Nine kept tossing the coins, whispering, “Sleep, sleep, it’s all a dream! You remember nothing, nothing at all.” The chaplain closed his eyes and soon began to snore.

The trio slipped out, and Little Spoon returned the soldier to his bed; he was still unconscious. He’d likely think it all a dream upon waking.

The long night was exhausting for Kevin and the others. They checked the records of the other medics until Kevin finally found an entry: “Numerous mosquito bites, three abrasions…”

“This must be him!” Kevin nodded, flipping for the patient’s name. “Sergeant Borus, Thirteenth Security Squad. Just a sergeant—a small fish.”

“So what do we do?” Little Spoon asked.

Kevin glanced at the sky, frowning. “Dawn’s coming. Let’s withdraw.”

“We’re not going to find him?” Little Spoon was disappointed.

“Too risky,” Kevin shook his head. “With daylight approaching, there’s no time. Better not to take chances.”

Little Spoon agreed, and the two female assassins carried Kevin back at full speed, returning to the church before sunrise.

The ambassador and others welcomed them. Even Laulu, ill as he was, remained highly alert; he woke at once when the trio returned. “How did it go?”

“I’ve basically identified the ninth person,” Kevin replied. “Unfortunately, he’s just an ordinary soldier.”

Kevin explained his investigation method. The ninth person had killed his three companions, but after Kevin’s return, the city was sealed. If the ninth person escaped, it must have been before the lockdown, that is, before Kevin returned to camp.

With the time frame established, the investigation was easier. If they were soldiers, treatment would be handled by the camp’s chaplains. By checking medical records, Kevin could deduce their identity.

The result was disappointing. Laulu and the others had hoped for a direct link to a senior officer, so Kevin could dominate in court. But with only a sergeant, even winning would be unimpressive.

“A sergeant couldn’t infiltrate a foreign country and pose as a mercenary,” said the ambassador. “But uncovering his superiors will be difficult.”

“I hope the ambassador can delay one more day,” Kevin requested. “Tonight, we’ll find Borus!”

The ambassador was silent, then nodded. “Today, I’ll meet the city lord. You stay here.”

“Thank you, ambassador.”

The ambassador shook his head. “Let’s see. Since you’re investigating, I’ll arrange a court session. I’ll try to secure a neutral judge.” With that, he left the church.

Everyone turned to Kevin, waiting for his next move. Instead, Kevin stretched out on a bench. “Sleep first, work tonight.”

It had been an exhausting night; rest was essential. The priest kindly offered two rooms for them. For Kevin, this episode posed little danger. Even if he were charged for breaking into the security office, he hadn’t been there, so he couldn’t be held responsible. Besides, the strength of Laboche was sufficient to protect them.

Kevin’s goal was simply to do his best.

When he awoke, it was evening. The ambassador hadn’t returned, but sent a message: the trial would be held in the morning, and Kevin and his team should prepare.

Arranging judges was the ambassador’s task; Kevin could only focus on his own preparations. At sunset, the trio set out again, leaving Jack to care for Laulu.

Again, two carried Kevin at high speed. Little Nine worried, “Isn’t the ninth person important? Could there be a trap?”

“Unlikely,” Kevin replied.

“Why?”

“If someone failed a mission, killed all their own men, and returned, what would they say?” Kevin asked.

“In that battle, I could see the enemies lacked camaraderie. I suspect the ninth person recruited a bunch of local thugs. So when some died, no one cared; avenging them was a joke,” Kevin explained. “Such a person killed his own recruits to silence them. Those who are good at silencing others are also afraid of being silenced themselves.”

“So you mean…” the two were stunned.

“I suspect the ninth person who escaped didn’t dare report the real events in the Poisonous Forest to his superiors,” Kevin deduced. “He caused a disaster abroad and ran back—wouldn’t he fear being silenced?”

“They didn’t have a monitoring parrot with them; whatever he says goes,” Kevin continued. “The military probably doesn’t know he was involved, nor do they need to. The mastermind already realized Laulu was seeking an officer.”

“Shame he’s only a sergeant,” Little Spoon lamented.

“But it’s a breakthrough!” Kevin replied. “A sergeant acts on orders. Sending someone to infiltrate Laboche couldn’t have involved just one sergeant. This must be a larger operation—more agents than we imagine. Borus is only one of them.”

“Of course, this is just my speculation. Truth or not, we’ll find out when we catch him,” Kevin said.

They slipped into the camp again, grabbed a soldier for directions, located the Thirteenth Squad, and sneaked into the barracks, finding Borus asleep, shirtless.

The three swiftly knocked him out, dragged him outside, and revived him with two slaps. Borus jolted awake, shivering in the night breeze.

“Do you recognize me?” Kevin pulled down his mask.

“You…” Borus was terrified, then hesitated. “Who are you?”

“You’re exposed,” Kevin sneered. In the Poisonous Forest battle, Kevin had removed his head covering mid-fight due to the heat, and Borus clearly recognized him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Borus instinctively scooted away.

“I recognize your voice,” Kevin smiled. “That day was life and death for me—I remember your voice well.”

Borus: “…”

“I always thought the ninth person never appeared, but actually he was the leader who fought me,” Kevin recalled. “The one who didn’t show up was likely the downstream corpse.”

“The reason he didn’t join the fight was probably because he was injured. It reminds me of the bloody handprint we saw with the professor. The professor joked, ‘If there’s a bloody handprint, someone must have bled here.’ The Poisonous Forest is harsh; few enter. You all could blame us for your leader’s death. That handprint was likely left by your teammate.”

“The ninth person was injured and unable to fight, so you killed him and swapped clothes, creating the illusion your squad was wiped out. The evidence lies in the medic’s records: you were covered in mosquito bites! Everyone who entered the forest had proper protection, so it shouldn’t have been so bad. One or two bites wouldn’t warrant medical attention. Only if you swapped clothes with the dead, leaving your skin exposed, would you get bitten so much,” Kevin concluded, relentless.

“You…this…” Borus was clearly panicked but insisted, “I fell into a swamp and got bitten!”

Kevin strode forward, yanked down Borus’s shorts, and squeezed his pelvis hard. “I remember hitting you here with a magic missile! Isn’t that right?” The two female assassins were embarrassed but knew the importance, so they watched.

“Aaah!” Borus screamed in pain. But they were far from the camp, and in the darkness of Leboci, screams were common—no one cared.

“No more words!” Kevin stood. “Little Nine, charm him!”

Little Nine knelt and took out a book. “Here, watch the moving images.”

Borus: “…”