Gamer of the Dead

Book 2, Chapter 62:

"The tent city in the east is burning, and we have reports of several checkpoints overrun by unknown forces. The commander of the militia who is guarding the supply building and the nearby workshops are either requesting for additional support or requesting permission to withdraw from the supply building. They are under heavy attack." This report came from a chubby adviser sweating away in his white polo shirt

"He wants us to give our main source of supply to the enemy, is that it?" The base commander shouted at his assistant. "Am I the only one thinking about winning this god damn fight?! If we lose the supply building, then we almost certainly lose everything else!"

"Team 4 is requesting additional troops as they go deeper into the crime boss territory," Another adviser reminded the base commander.

The colonel whipped his head at him and glared. "He already has 12 teams backing him up. What the hell is he doing?!"

The adviser shrugged. "Opposition is far stronger than expected. We have identified a few of the fighters opposing them as part of secondary teams normally guarding our walls. Team 4 already lose seven teams under his command. Those seven are declared combat ineffective, and surviving members are being transferred to other teams to make up for their loses."

"If we didn't lose team 7 and their teams, we could have easily reinforced them..." Another adviser muttered then turned red when everyone started looking at him. "I... sorry. I am just thinking out loud."

"Think somewhere else!" The base commander shouted at her. That whole fiasco is still in his mind and still could not fathom how that boy knew they were coming and set up an effective ambush that massacred his people.

Angrily Colonel Sorya scanned the map of the base and barked, "Tell all teams guarding the east road to abandon their checkpoints and go to team 4's location. Tell team leader Saval that he has until midnight to give me David's head, or don't bother coming back!"

A thud rang in the suddenly quiet room. The Colonel turned and saw just in time, one of his advisers slid from the table to the stone ground below, completely unconscious. The other adviser is already snoring at the other end of the table. Danger suddenly blared in the colonel's mind and he reached out to grabbed his trusty old axe in his inventory. But then he felt the cold steel of a blade touching the back of his neck, and he froze.

"Don't worry," Bobby said behind him. "Your advisors received a tiny drop of sleeping potion in their coffees. They will wake up sometime tomorrow."

At least I hoped so, Bobby thought mildly.

"You have some balls, kid. I give you that. But even if you kill me, what makes you think you can get away from my men that surround this building. I have at least two dozen teams guarding the place!"

"Actually, there are only 14 teams out there. I checked," Bobby answered him calmly. "And if I have to, I'll go right through them like a hot knife through cold butter. But I prefer a more diplomatic approached." Without a word, he let the blade slipped out of the colonel's neck and waited.

There was an awkward silence fr a moment, and then the colonel sighed. Deliberately, the Colonel sat down to his chair and pulled out brandy in his inventory, despite the sword and Bobby still behind him. "Drink?" he said. Bobby just stared at him. Whatever you think about the colonel, Bobby thought to himself. Coward is not one of them, he mused.