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Was Mistaken For A War Hero

"I became a staff officer of an empire where the ship assignment had been finalized. In an empire where the mandatory service term is eight years, the only way to escape is through a dishonorable discharge. But then... 'You may rejoice, lieutenant. Thanks to your precise instincts, our army was able to prevent losses in advance.' The more I struggled to get discharged, the higher my evaluations climbed." *** I do not own this work this is a translated work.

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21 Chs

Chapter 4

I adjusted my uniform and resolved breakfast at the officers' mess before heading to the operations officer's personal office.

It was a day like any other.

The one difference was that some high-ranking officers I passed in the hallways were starting to recognize me.

"So, you're that famous lieutenant? The one who showed up the operations staff at the command center? Ah, don't get me wrong—I mean that as a compliment."

"Lieutenant. I know you're confident in your abilities, but don't show off too much in front of your superiors if you want a long career in the military. Just some advice from experience."

"Wow! I thought the General Staff was full of stodgy old men, but there's a talent like you? Keep it up!"

…Every time I encountered someone, they'd stop me and launch into a long speech. It was dizzying.

Since I couldn't outright ignore them, I used the magical three words to get by: "Yes, sir!" "Really?" and "Thank you!"—and managed to extract myself.

The problem was that wasting time with these officers made me late for my reporting time.

My scheduled start was 8:30 a.m., but it was now 8:28.

The staff offices were on the fifth floor, and even at a brisk pace, it would take me four minutes to get there.

Imperial officers are bound by a ridiculous dignity code that forbids running unless in combat, so being late was inevitable.

"Carl's going to throw a fit again."

To reiterate, my direct superior, Major Carl Heinrich, is a neurotic and irritable personality who overreacts to the smallest mistakes.

If he were even competent, I might feel some respect, but his record consists of cowering in the rear during the defense against the Allied Forces seven years ago.

How does such a man hold a position in the meritocratic Imperial General Staff?

There's a saying that when you question someone's rank or title, look at their connections.

That's right. Carl Heinrich is from a noble family, and his father is an active diplomat.

As is often the case, even the meritocratic Empire is riddled with nepotism and favoritism.

Carl Heinrich is a prime example of someone enjoying these privileges.

From my assessment, he is the pinnacle of incompetence and a moral disgrace—a walking pile of human garbage.

If I were to assign blame for the dark circles under my eyes, Carl Heinrich would be the primary shareholder.

While I dreaded what kind of nonsense he'd unleash today, I felt oddly calm.

"Who cares? I'm resigning soon anyway."

With a dishonorable discharge as my goal, there was no need to placate Carl anymore.

Is this the feeling of a worker heading to their job with a resignation letter in their pocket? I even felt a slight smile tug at my lips.

With that lighthearted step, I headed to the fifth floor's operations staff office and knocked on the door.

"Lieutenant Daniel Steiner, assistant to the operations officer, reporting. Permission to enter."

After announcing myself and opening the door, I saw inside the office.

The first thing that caught my eye was Carl, seated at his desk, clutching his head as sunlight streamed into the room.

He looked as though he'd made a critical mistake, sweat pouring down his face in a suspiciously odd display.

He didn't seem to notice my entrance, so I approached and spoke.

"Major Carl Heinrich? You're expected in the operations room at 9 a.m. You should start preparing now…"

I stopped mid-sentence.

Carl, upon hearing my voice, raised his head, and his eyes blazed with fury.

Was this because I was two minutes late? As I was bewildered, Carl abruptly stood from his seat.

"You! Do you even understand what you've done?"

What had I done? Been late by two minutes? I blinked in confusion as Carl stormed toward me.

"Who gave you permission to speak to the commander? How dare an orphan lieutenant like you butt into the meeting…!"

Reaching me, Carl grabbed my collar and shoved me violently.

I almost fell but managed to regain my balance by stepping back.

"Because of you, all my plans have been ruined! Damn it! Not only are they in shambles, but my life is at risk now, you bastard!"

What is he even talking about? He's always been erratic, but today he seemed unhinged—

Thud!

My head slammed into the wall, and I let out a low groan.

"If something happens to me, I won't let it slide. I'll drag you to hell with me, no matter what! Got that, you little bastard!?"

…This guy's completely lost it.

Normally, I would have swallowed my anger and let it go, but today was different.

"You started this, Carl."

"What? Did you just address your superior informally—"

Smack! I swatted away Carl's hand and delivered a straight punch to his face.

Carl tried to dodge by turning his head, but it was too late.

My fist landed squarely on his cheekbone.

"Argh!"

Carl staggered back, screaming, but I pressed forward, grabbing him by the neck and tripping him to the ground.

Thud!

As Carl hit the floor, writhing in pain, I climbed on top of him and pulled my fist back.

Pausing momentarily, I saw Carl trembling but still trying to speak.

"You… You know this is assaulting a superior officer, right? There'll be a court-martial. Your military career will be over. Do you even understand that?"

Did he think I didn't know? I shrugged.

"Don't worry about me. I'm doing this to end my military career anyway."

"What? What are you—"

Wham! The sound of impact cut off Carl's words.

With his jaw knocked askew, Carl fell unconscious, and I rose to my feet, looking down at him.

Dusting off my hands, I heard hurried footsteps approaching from outside the door.

It seemed someone had heard Carl's screams.

Moments later, the door burst open, and two soldiers entered.

"What's going on here!?"

The soldier who spoke froze upon seeing the scene before him.

Understandable. A passed-out operations officer and his assistant lieutenant standing over him? It must have been hard to make sense of.

So I decided to help them along.

"This is superior officer assault. I'm the perpetrator, so take me into custody."

Despite my explanation, the soldiers hesitated.

Their indecision was pathetic enough to make me sigh.

"What are you waiting for? Do you need to compare my fists to Major Carl's injuries to confirm?"

"N-No, sir!"

At last, the soldiers moved, pulling out handcuffs and approaching to secure my wrists.

As I stood there being restrained, I felt a sense of relief and smiled inwardly.

"This was a spur-of-the-moment assault, so the punishment shouldn't be severe. Considering my past achievements, it'll likely end with my discharge."

Essentially, it was a penalty-free resignation!

Internally cheering, I turned my gaze to the window.

The vibrant bloom of spring filled the view—a perfect season to leave the military.

That evening.

At Major Carl Heinrich's residence.

"Search everywhere."

"Yes, Captain!"

At the command of Captain Philip Bender, the adjutant of Brigadier General Heinrich Schmidt, soldiers fanned out across the house.

Philip strolled leisurely through the living room, lost in thought.

"Today, Lieutenant Daniel assaulted his superior officer."

When he first heard the report, he thought it was a mistake.

A man who had recently achieved commendation caused such an incident?

Moreover, Philip had always regarded Daniel as the epitome of a model soldier.

For Daniel to commit such an act, there had to be a reason.

This was why Heinrich had directed a detailed investigation by the military police after the incident.

During this process, Carl had shown signs of paranoia, mumbling absurdities about the Allied Forces coming to kill him.

Sensing something amiss, Heinrich ordered Philip to search Carl's residence, leading to the current scene.

"Captain! Over here!"

The shout of a soldier broke Philip's reverie. He nodded and approached.

"I'm coming."

The soldier lightly knocked on the floorboards.

Thump-thump—

The sound was unusually hollow, as if the space beneath was empty.

"This spot sounds different."

"A classic trick. Pry it open."

"Yes, Captain!"

Using a crowbar, the soldier removed the floorboards, revealing a small box hidden underneath.

Philip knelt, lifted the box, and opened it.

Inside were documents and a few letters.

"This is…"

The documents were Imperial military secrets.

The letters detailed offers from the Allied Forces, promising large sums in exchange for selling information—even urging Carl to guide Imperial reinforcements into the hills.

"That treacherous scum…"

Carl Heinrich was a traitor to the nation, selling secrets and sabotaging operations for money.

"If that's the case…"

Daniel's assault on Carl must have been born out of righteous anger.

This meant Daniel was no criminal; he was a hero who uncovered a national traitor.

"We made an unnecessary misunderstanding."

Philip closed the box, stood up, and addressed the soldier.

"Soldier. I'm returning to headquarters. Report any further findings."

"Yes, sir. May I ask why you're in such a hurry to return?"

Philip smiled warmly at the soldier.

"This evidence proves Lieutenant Daniel Steiner's innocence. We must clear the name of a hero who served the Empire as soon as possible."

The soldier froze for a moment.

It was the first time he'd seen the cold-hearted Captain Philip smile so brightly.