Chapter Twenty: Sacrificing the Pawn to Save the King

Respect is something you give each other, but dignity is something you earn yourself. If you don’t care about your own dignity, why should anyone else? Fortunately, Zhuo Wen still gave me that respect and didn’t stay behind to make things difficult. I had no idea what the others thought as they watched Zhuo Wen leave in silence.

“So, what about you? Do you choose to leave or stay here?” Now that Zhuo Wen was gone, I felt no need to hold back with the few that remained. Though there were girls in this group, my kindness was never something I extended easily to strangers—except, perhaps, to a truly heartbroken girl in tears.

They said nothing, nor did they leave.

“We’re going!” I called out and quickly led my team away. With gunshots echoing, many people nearby would have heard; I couldn’t just mow everyone down. If we returned to school in a few days, things would get ugly for us. It’s better to keep the bigger picture in mind, leave a line of retreat, and make it easier to meet again in the future.

I was certain the gunfire would draw others—especially those who’d gotten guns in the first wave, as long as they still had them. Either way, this place was no longer safe. Stay any longer, and we’d be surrounded for sure.

I’d wanted to find a secluded place to lie low until the third hour was up, but plans never quite keep pace with change. I couldn’t help but marvel at how cunning the chief instructor was—by strictly controlling the number of firearms, he’d created a clear conflict between the armed and the unarmed. Those without guns would want to get their hands on one, while those with guns would never give theirs up. I could already foresee the coming clashes.

But I had no desire to become the center of those conflicts.

We changed direction three times, but I never felt safe. Just as I was about to let everyone stop for a rest, a figure darted out from behind a tree a hundred meters away and shouted excitedly, “They’re over there!”

Moments later, a swarm of heads emerged behind him.

“There must be at least a hundred of them,” muttered Mao Shiba, swallowing hard. Even the usually taciturn Mao Shiba spoke up, which surprised me. I gave him a quick look and hustled everyone into a run.

Behind us, a vast crowd was in pursuit. Among them were both Blue Team and Green Team members—they’d clearly formed a temporary alliance.

“Listen up back there! For the sake of being schoolmates, we don’t want to hurt you. But if you keep coming, don’t blame us for showing no mercy!” I knew running wouldn’t work; it would only make them bolder. I turned, aimed, eliminated the leader, and shouted.

“Spread out! There’s no way they can hit all of us. If we’re destined to be eliminated, let’s give it a shot—maybe one of us will make it to the end. Charge!”

There was no shortage of clever minds in the mob. Someone smartly took advantage of the crowd’s do-or-die mentality. None believed they’d be the one to fall first, and their morale soared. I didn’t know who’d spoken—if I did, I’d have shot him immediately.

“Fire single shots, in order of our numbers, one shot every three seconds.”

Bang!

Bang!

...

The crowd behind us grew wary of the bullets and dared not get too close. But I knew this couldn’t last. Firing nonstop would expose our position, and my teammates’ marksmanship was appalling—nine shots, only one person down.

I wanted to collect their bullets and shoot myself, but since this was a team, that wasn’t an option. All I could do was take down anyone at the very front.

How to resolve this? I pondered as we retreated. These people were like leeches—impossible to shake off.

I’d actually thought of a way: throw down five guns with their magazines removed, and that would be enough to spark infighting among the pursuers. But I wasn’t sure my teammates would agree.

“I’ve got three ideas to get us out of this mess. First, stop firing and let me pick them off one by one. Second, we split up and scatter the crowd—though I’ll probably survive, you might not, or certainly won’t make it to the end. Third, we remove the magazines, toss five guns behind, and let them fight over them.”

The first plan, barring any mistakes, would burn through at least 150 rounds—and who knows if others would show up once these were dealt with. The second plan would guarantee my survival but likely not yours. The third plan saves bullets, buys us time to escape, and lets us watch the chaos unfold.

“That’s what I think. Any thoughts?” I laid it all out.

“But if we leave five guns behind, wouldn’t the ones without guns be eliminated when time’s up?” a girl in the team immediately raised the core issue.

I nodded, fired a shot back, and spoke as I ran, “That’s the solution I think is best. It’s a gamble, though—we’re betting we can wipe out another team before the three hours are up.”

Hearing this, everyone exchanged glances, frowning in thought.

“All right, one of the guns we leave is mine. If we haven’t taken out another team by the end, I’ll be the one eliminated. Since I came up with the plan, I’ll shoulder the risk.” My sincerity made the others, who’d been doubtful, feel a little embarrassed.

“I’ll leave my gun.”

“So will I.”

Everyone said the same. In that moment, I felt we were truly a team.

“Good! That’s what a team should be. So, I’ll coordinate: Shiba, you and I will leave our guns, and the three girls whose aim is a bit off, is that all right?” No one objected.

“Unload the magazines, then drop the guns,” I said, taking the lead by removing my magazine and tossing the gun to the ground. Thankfully, the chief instructor wasn’t around—if he saw how I was treating his weapons, he’d probably be furious.

Soon, our team had left five empty guns behind and was on the run again.

“These five guns are for you. If you still don’t get the message and keep chasing, we won’t be saving any more bullets—it’ll be a fight to the death.” With that, I hurried to catch up with my teammates, who had already gotten ahead.

The pursuers, full of bluster moments ago, instantly scrambled for the guns as soon as they saw them on the ground. The few who still wanted to chase saw their numbers were too few to make a difference and turned back to join the scramble.

Seeing no one chasing us anymore, I breathed a quiet sigh of relief. It wasn’t that I couldn’t deal with them—it just wasn’t worth wasting the bullets.

This was probably just as the chief instructor intended: get us to waste a round of ammunition on people who weren’t worth it. After three hours, those with more bullets left would have the upper hand.

“Now, let’s head for Armory Two. Those without guns, take the lead; those with guns, stay hidden. I believe there aren’t many armed people willing to waste their precious bullets on those about to be automatically eliminated.”