My Desertion Would Be Faster Than Heros’ Obsession

"Why? Who is it?"

"Yes, exactly," I replied, tilting my head in curiosity.

That day, April had turned away as if she didn’t want to say more. But something about her words had struck a chord in me. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I needed to know who the “dead one” she mentioned was.

Of course, openly digging into a senior’s past was a quick way to get punished—group punishments at that. So, I approached Yuri, the only senior I somewhat trusted, and asked her in secret.

But Yuri’s response was unhelpful.

“Hmm. When I enlisted, April was already a Private First Class… and, well, she was… kind of like how she is now.”

Ah, so she’s always been insane.

“She didn’t really have close relationships with anyone back then. Even now, she’s not particularly close to anyone, except maybe Louise, her immediate junior.”

“…Got it. Thanks.”

The only takeaway was that April had already been this way when she became a Private First Class.

Wait a minute.

Something clicked in my mind.

“Didn’t Gray once ask April if all her fellow recruits had died because they were weaker than her?”

Yes, that had happened. Gray’s idiotic remark had infuriated April, but it also revealed something important: April had peers.

It wasn’t unusual for recruits to die here. Most of the weaker or unlucky ones didn’t survive their first six months. But after two years, soldiers typically gained enough skill to handle most monsters. Once promoted to Private First Class, people rarely worried about their survival.

Still, something felt off.

“Yuri, did April have peers?”

Yuri froze for a moment, glancing around to make sure no one else was nearby. Then, she leaned in close, her voice barely a whisper.

“Don’t ever ask about that again. If you do, you’ll get yourself killed.”

“I-I understand…”

“And for the record, this happened before our intake. I only heard about it from Plato.”

Her voice lowered even further as she continued.

“April’s peer died not long after making Private First Class.”

Just as I thought.

April’s erratic behavior suddenly made sense.

Her peer had survived the first two years—the hardest part—enduring countless life-or-death situations alongside her. But even after all that, they’d died.

And they hadn’t just been a fellow soldier. They’d been someone April was deeply bonded to.

I found myself empathizing with her in a way I hadn’t before.

What if Aquila died two years from now?

…No doubt I’d end up far worse than April.

Her warning to me—“Don’t play the angel; you’ll be the one to die”—wasn’t just advice. It was a projection of her own experience, born from the guilt of losing her kind-hearted peer.

“Hey, Aquila. Listen up.”

I tapped Aquila on the shoulder with a serious expression. He turned to look at me, his amber eyes questioning.

“If you die, I’ll kill you.”

“…What?”

“Don’t die! If you leave me behind and die, I’ll make sure you regret it.”

Aquila raised an eyebrow at first, but then nodded slowly, his gaze meeting mine with an intensity I rarely saw in him.

“That will never happen,” he said firmly.

There was a flicker of something in his eyes—a burning desire, or perhaps determination. It was rare for him to display such emotion.

“How could I waste myself like that?” he added.

“Good.”

I nodded in satisfaction, reassured by his apparent will to live.

And I won’t die, either.

Though the original version of me was fated to die, I could avoid it. Knowing the timeline of my death was a major advantage in surviving.

Of course, surviving in this apocalyptic hell meant I’d have to grow stronger. There was no way around it.

Fine, I’ll get stronger. I’ll crush everything in my way.

Fueled by a sudden surge of determination, I gritted my teeth and poured everything I had into that day’s training, firing my weapon with renewed vigor.

***

Discharge D-2556

Today might be one of the most important days of my life. Why? Because today is…

“April, let me help you pack,” I said, smiling broadly as I knelt beside her.

April, who was stuffing a large bag with her belongings, glanced at me with a smirk.

“You’re just happy I’m leaving, aren’t you?”

“No way, I’m going to miss you so much!”

I couldn’t hide my grin, though. But that didn’t matter—April was leaving the unit today, and I wasn’t about to waste energy pretending otherwise.

That’s right. Tomorrow, a new intake of recruits arrives.

And that means today is the day those who are leaving finally get to go.

“Where are you being transferred to, April?”

“Same 72nd Special Forces Division, but I think I’m going to the 39th Infantry Brigade. Not sure about the details.”

“Oh, I see. In any case, congratulations on only having two years left until your discharge!”

Finally, this crazy XX is leaving.

The thought of a peaceful women’s dormitory was enough to make me feel euphoric.

“Instead of celebrating my departure, why don’t you congratulate Chris on his discharge?”

“Oh, I’m thrilled about that too!”@@novelbin@@

Chris, the Command Officer of Alpha Platoon, was officially discharging today.

Discharge—that sweet, distant word. For me, it was still so far off it felt like a cruel joke.

When I joined, Chris had less than a year until discharge, so I’d barely seen him. Ishina once joked that he was “always tucked away somewhere.”

“What will you do after you discharge, April?”

I didn’t actually care, but it was polite to ask. It’s a standard question we Border Defense soldiers ask each other almost daily.

“Me?”

April’s lips curled into a radiant smile, and she leaned in slightly as if sharing a secret.

“I’m going to uncover the secrets of this world.”

“…What?”

My expression froze on its own.

The secrets of this world. That phrase sounded like something only someone like me—someone who’d come from another world—would say.

Is she joking?

Ignoring my stunned reaction, April continued.

“You know… I think this world is a little strange. Specifically, the system that governs us.”

“…What do you mean?”

“Oh, just… the existence of the Border Defense Force, the constant appearance of monsters—stuff like that.”

“…Ah.”

Her words left me speechless.

April’s suspicions echoed thoughts I’d had myself. As someone who could view this world objectively, I’d also found many things about it to be deeply strange.

After a long pause, I finally nodded.

“You’re right. It’s strange.”

“Hmm? You think so too?”

“I think it’s odd how this system is sustained. Such an unfair structure…”

“Exactly. So you see it too,” she said, her voice sounding almost wistful.

It wasn’t that April had come from another world like I had. She’d simply spent enough time in the Border Defense Force to start questioning the absurdity of this system.

Magical contracts enslaving hetero sapiens. Endless waves of monsters, and the meaningless battles against them.

April had come to doubt how this irrational system had been maintained for over a century.

For most of the unit, the system was just the reality they lived in, so they never questioned it. April, it seemed, was an exception.

“I’ve never met anyone else who thought this system was strange,” she murmured, almost to herself.

“Except for my peer.”

It was the first time she’d ever mentioned her peer unprompted.

I felt a sudden urgency—this was my chance to bring up what I’d learned.

“April… can I ask you something?”

She raised an eyebrow, smirking playfully.

“Sure, go ahead. Normally I wouldn’t bother answering your questions, but since I’m leaving today, I’ll humor you.”

How typical of her.

“Well… was the advice you gave me about not appearing weak because your peer… died after being underestimated as a Private First Class?”

“What?”

April’s eyes widened.

“Where did you hear about my peer? Hmm, I guess I don’t have time to hunt down whoever spilled the beans, do I?”

I silently thanked my instincts for bringing this up. If I hadn’t, Yuri might have been killed—and then I’d probably have been next.

“His name was Venon,” she said, her voice unexpectedly calm.

“He was good at everything. An elite. A natural soldier. Honestly, I wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d stayed in the military permanently. He was born for it.”

The air in the room grew heavy. I swallowed hard, trying not to make a sound.

“Yeah, he died because he was underestimated. But your assumption is only half right. Venon wasn’t the type to be looked down on—not by anyone. Like I said, he was a natural soldier.”

“…What?”

As I tilted my head in confusion, Altair’s voice called from outside the door.

“April, Louise is asking if you’re ready.”

“Tell her I’ll be out in a minute.”

April turned her back to me as if our conversation had never happened and zipped up her bag.

She slipped on her shoes and stood at the door, her back still to me as she spoke her final words.

“It wasn’t Venon who was underestimated. It was me. He died in my place.”

With that, she left the dormitory, leaving me alone to mutter to myself.

“This is driving me insane.”

She hadn’t been projecting her peer onto me.

She’d been projecting herself.