Reincarnated with a Military System in Another World

Chapter 130  Counteroffensive

Vincent strode into the medical barracks with a sharp, determined pace. The air was thick with the sterile scent of disinfectant, and the soft hum of medical equipment filled the room. Behind him, the squad leader followed closely, his boots hitting the ground in perfect rhythm with Vincent's. Next to Vincent was Alpha 1, Marcus, his second-in-command in the city of Ferm.

As they approached the area where the wounded man was being treated, Vincent caught sight of the medics working intently, hands moving swiftly over their patient.

The lead medic looked up as they entered, wiping his hands on his bloodstained scrubs. His face was tense but composed.

"He's stable for now, sir, but he's not out of danger yet. We've done everything we can, but he's lost a lot of blood."

Vincent narrowed his eyes and took a step closer to the bed where the survivor lay. The man looked pale and gaunt, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. Bandages were wrapped around his torso, and an oxygen mask covered his face. He was barely clinging to life.

"Is he conscious?" Vincent asked sharply.

"Not yet," the medic replied. "We've stabilized him, but he's still unconscious. With the amount of blood he's lost, it's a miracle he's even alive."

Vincent glanced at Marcus, who gave a subtle nod. They didn't have much time. "He better wake up soon. We need answers. Who are they? Why did they attack us?"

The squad leader stepped forward, standing at attention. "Sir, we swept the perimeter thoroughly. Most of them didn't survive the Mantis gunfire. This one's the only one we found who's even remotely able to talk. The others are dead."

Marcus crossed his arms, his expression hard as he eyed the wounded man. "We'll get what we need from him. He doesn't have long, but we only need a few answers."

Vincent's jaw clenched. "We don't have time to waste. Wake him up. I don't care if you have to pump him full of adrenaline, but I want him conscious and talking."

The lead medic hesitated. "Sir, it's risky. His body's weak. If we push him too hard, he might not make it."

"I don't care," Vincent snapped. "We need to know why they're here, and we need to know now."

The medic exchanged a quick glance with his team, then nodded. He reached into a nearby drawer, pulling out a syringe filled with a clear liquid.  "We'll try to wake him, but there's no guarantee he'll stay conscious long enough to answer your questions."

"Do it," Vincent ordered, stepping back slightly but keeping his eyes on the survivor.

The medic inserted the needle into the man's arm, injecting the stimulant directly into his bloodstream. For a few tense moments, nothing happened. The room was quiet except for the soft beeping of the heart monitor.

Then, slowly, the man began to stir. His eyelids fluttered, and a low groan escaped his lips. His fingers twitched, and his head lolled to the side as his eyes opened, glassy and unfocused.

Vincent stepped forward again, leaning over the man. "Who sent you?" he demanded and added. "Why did you attack us?"

The survivor's gaze darted around the room, confusion clouding his expression. He opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a ragged breath.

"Answer me!" Vincent barked, his patience wearing thin. "Who are you working for?"

The man's lips trembled, and he struggled to form words. Finally, he whispered, barely audible, "Garrick… sent us."

"Garrick?" Vincent repeated. He was familiar with the name. It was told by Rourke that he was the head of the mercenary organization known as Iron Claw. "Marcus, can you bring those two here."

Marcus knew who Vincent wanted without even naming them, Sykes and Rourke.

"Consider it done sir," Marcus nodded curtly and turned on his heel, making his way out of the medical barracks. "Now while we are waiting, I want you to answer my curiosity. First, were you the one responsible for that lightning and ball of fire that struck us earlier?"

The survivor's eyes flickered with hesitation. His breathing was labored, and he seemed to be fighting against both his pain and the gravity of Vincent's question. His lips parted slightly, but no words came out at first. "Speak," Vincent demanded, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. "Were you the one behind the lightning and the fireball?"

The wounded man's chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven breaths. He finally nodded, his voice barely audible. "It… wasn't me. Garrick… he has spellcasters… special weapons… we weren't… supposed to fail."

Vincent narrowed his eyes. "Spellcasters? Magic? And what were you after? Why attack us?"

The survivor coughed weakly, his whole body trembling from the effort. "The treasure… beneath the city… Garrick said it would… change everything."

"I see…well sadly, one of your associates already got those treasures by simply handing it to them." "Associates?"

"Yes…you'll meet them soon," Vincent said.

Vincent exchanged a glance with the lead medic, who was monitoring the survivor's vital signs. The medic gave a slight shake of his head—time was running out for this man.

Marcus returned, Sykes and Rourke in tow. Both men looked uneasy as they entered the barracks, aware of the tension that filled the room. Sykes glanced at the dying man, while Rourke focused his attention on Vincent.

Vincent didn't turn to greet them. Instead, he gestured toward the survivor on the bed. "This man is one of your associates, the ones who tried to attack us but failed. Do you know him?" "He is familiar," Rourke answered. "He is part of the Iron Claw." "Now as much as I want to slide this conversation along," Vincent began, his eyes narrowing on the barely-conscious man, "time isn't on our side. I need to know if there's more of Garrick's men coming. What else are they planning?"

Rourke looked down at the survivor, recognizing the faint flicker of fear in the man's eyes. He let out a small sigh before replying, "Garrick wouldn't just send one group. If they failed, he'll have more on the way. He's too determined to let this go."

"In that case, we should prevent that don't we?" Vincent glanced at Rourke. "I will assemble the troops and have them deployed to wherever they are hiding." "Are you going to kill them?" Sykes asked.

Vincent shook his head. "No, unless they forced our hand."

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