Molin slowly pulled out the bayonet. The battalion commander who had just been rejoicing at having survived collapsed limply to the ground, an expression of disbelief frozen on his face.
He used Juan's still relatively clean uniform to wipe the sticky blood from the blade, then sheathed it.
From the act of killing to cleaning the bayonet, the entire sequence was fluid and natural, without the slightest hesitation.
Throughout the process, Molin didn't feel much discomfort.
Perhaps because the target was such utter scum, he didn't feel the slightest psychological burden—only the calm that came after taking out the trash.
"We got something very valuable this time. It's quite a haul~"
Molin turned to look at Corporal Bauman, his voice perfectly steady, completely unlike someone who had just killed a man.
"But now, we need to think about how to get back."
The two turned and returned to the adjacent empty room.
The three young girls they had rescued were still huddled together. When they saw the men enter, the girls involuntarily shrank back, their eyes filled with lingering terror.
Molin completely understood their fear; after all, they didn't look very old, and it would have been strange if they weren't terrified after encountering such a thing.
Fortunately, Molin and his men had acted quickly. Those officers hadn't had time to cause more grievous harm, and the girls had merely been severely frightened.
Molin slowed his steps, crouching down a few paces away from them, doing his best to make his tone sound gentle.
"Don't be afraid. The bad men have been dealt with. No one will hurt you anymore."
The three girls fell silent for a moment upon hearing his words. Then the one who was slightly bolder raised her head and asked timidly, "Are... are you with the Nationalists?"
Molin shook his head.
The girl seemed stunned for a moment, then mustered her courage to ask again, "Then are you the Inter... International Brigades the adults talk about, the ones who came from other places to help?"
Molin shook his head again.
The girl hesitated. She looked at the unfamiliar military uniform on Molin, then at Corporal Bauman behind him, silent as an iron tower.
Finally, she asked in a voice so faint it was barely audible, "Then... are you a good person?"
This question gave Molin pause.
But then Molin smiled and asked back, "What do you think?"
The three girls exchanged glances and all nodded lightly.
The leading girl said softly, "You look very fierce, but you should be good people."
"No."
Molin continued shaking his head, though the smile on his face didn't fade. "Actually, I'm not a good person either."
This answer left the girls completely bewildered. They couldn't understand why someone who had saved them wouldn't admit to being a good person.
Corporal Bauman and the others were also stunned because they hadn't understood a word of what was being said...
Only Bauman had caught the words "good person" and "bad person."
"Then... then why did you save us?"
"Because I can't stand seeing things like this happen," Molin said with a straight face. "And because I have to live up to the red scarf and party emblem I once wore."
The unfamiliar terms that came out of Molin's mouth left the three girls even more confused.
But for some reason, his deliberately serious and strange answer instead diluted the fear in their hearts, and their tense nerves gradually relaxed.
"Alright, listen carefully to what I'm about to say."
Molin put away any trace of jest and said seriously:
"What you need to do now is quietly return to your families immediately! Then find a way to leave this city with your families, or find a safe place to hide!"
He paused, then added with emphasis: "Although these bastards are dead, I reckon their accomplices will come looking for trouble very soon. If you stay here, you'll only be in greater danger. Understand?"
The girls nodded, half-understanding.
Molin stood up, walked to the window, and carefully lifted a corner of the curtain to observe outside.
On the street, the civilians who had been driven back at gunpoint had long since dispersed, and the Royal Army soldiers had returned to their respective posts.
They gathered in twos and threes to smoke, chat, play cards, and freeload meals—no one was paying attention to the two-story building anymore.
After confirming it was safe, Molin turned around and extended his hand to the four soldiers other than Bauman.
"Hand me two grenades each, all of you."
Although somewhat puzzled, the soldiers immediately took the spherical grenades secured in clips on their belts—eight in total—and handed them all to Molin.
Under the curious gazes of the group, Molin began to busy himself.
He found some sewing thread in the room and removed a few pieces of thin wire from the damaged furniture. Then he carefully hid the grenades beneath the two corpses in the stairwell and the middle room.
He cleverly connected the grenades' pull rings to the stair railing and even the corpses themselves using the thread and wire.
"Sir, what are you..." Corporal Bauman leaned in, his face full of confusion.
Without looking up, Molin said, "Leaving a little surprise for whoever comes later."
After setting everything up, Molin and his group led the three still-terrified girls and silently left the two-story building through the back door.
Relying on the "full map vision" provided by the system map, they easily evaded the sightlines of all nearby Royal Army soldiers, twisted and turned through several alleys, and delivered the girls to a relatively safe neighborhood.
Molin: "Alright, there are no Royal Army soldiers around here anymore. Do you all know how to get home?"
The three girls nodded upon hearing Molin's words.
"Good. Remember what I said. Hurry home and get your families to a safe place," Molin instructed the girls.
The girls bowed to them gratefully, then supported each other as they walked toward the other end of the alley.
The bolder girl among them turned back to look at Molin. A trace of a smile finally appeared on her face.
"Thank you, bad person!"
Watching their departing figures in silence, Molin waved his hand and led his squad in a stealthy advance toward the outskirts of the city.
"Sir, why did she thank a 'bad person'? Or did I hear wrong?"
As they were about to leave the city, Corporal Bauman finally couldn't hold back and asked.
Molin: "After all, to the civilians of the Kingdom of Aragon, we foreign troops are theoretically invaders too."
Corporal Bauman was stunned for a moment, clearly not expecting such an answer.
After a moment, he asked somewhat hesitantly, "But didn't we come to this country to fight in order to 'break Britannia's energy monopoly and allow all nations to share the progress of industrial technology'?"
"Mhm, you're right. Maybe that's indeed the case."
Molin nodded. Then, seeing Bauman's somewhat conflicted expression, he smiled and reached out to pat his shoulder.
"Ah, why think so much? As a soldier, your duty is to obey superior orders and complete your missions. Don't overthink all this other stuff."
After clearing up Corporal Bauman's confusion, the group picked up their pace. However, a complex look flickered in Molin's eyes.
A typical imperialist country, using military force to intervene in another nation and interfere in its internal politics for its own national interests...
For Molin, he naturally found it difficult to agree with such military operations. They carried too much so-called "justice"; at the end of the day, it was still just a game between big shots.
Of course, to a large extent, this was also a manifestation of "where you sit determines where you stand."
All Molin could do now was lead his own men and find a way to survive this war.
Thanks to the Royal Army's practically nonexistent roadblock and vigilance capabilities, their retreat went exceptionally smoothly. Before long, the group returned without incident to the hillside where the bicycles were hidden.
After pushing the bicycles out from the bushes, Molin did not immediately give the order to leave.
"Bauman, come up with me for another look."
The two quietly climbed to the top of the slope again. Molin raised his binoculars for one last scan of the distant enemy positions, confirming whether there were any new movements.
This time, Molin's gaze once again locked onto the high ground where the mana crystal cannons were deployed.
There seemed to be a few more people on the high ground than before.
His 6x binoculars only allowed him to make out some high-ranking Royal Army officers and a few people dressed in simple robes with distinctly different bearings.
However, the system map in his field of vision began flashing wildly at this moment, and a series of brightly highlighted icons and information popped up.
[Key Target Detected]
[Commander of the Royal Army's 24th Infantry Division of the Kingdom of Aragon: General José Sanjurjo]
[Holy Britannian Empire Highland Mage Corps: High Mentor — Eldridge]
[Holy Britannian Empire Highland Mage Corps: Mage Apprentices x3]
[24th Infantry Division Directly-Attached Staff Officers x4]
In an instant, Molin's heart skipped half a beat.
This wasn't just a few extra people—this was practically a full Manchu-Han Imperial Feast!