In the midst of the fierce battle, I was standing with a gun in my hand.
Every time I heard the sound of gunshots or bombs, my comrades fell.

It was a losing battle. Some of us even gave up fighting and ran, saying that they would rather surrender.
But I couldn't do that. I had a family to protect. I fought because if I didn't, it would be the end of my family.
Eventually our last line of defense collapsed and the enemy was upon us. I closed my eyes, bracing myself for the death blow. Suddenly someone shouted from behind me.

"Get down!"

I instinctively threw myself to the ground. An ear-shattering booming noise was heard and then the smell of explosives and the screams of enemies filled the air. I lifted my head.
The enemies who were advancing toward me were rolling on the ground, screaming, their bodies enveloped in fire.

I turned my head toward where I heard the voice, and saw a man standing with an incredibly oversize shotgun and a sword that was just as big as its counterpart.
His face was covered in tiny scars, probably from the myriad battles he'd survived, but it didn't look threatening.
It didn't look good, however, with the ponytail he was sporting.

He came and patted me on the shoulder as he said,

"I think I'm going to charge you extra for this. I'm sorry I came late, though. Good job holding out so far. You can rest now. This battle will be over soon."

He then laughed heartily. Laughing in a situation like this, I couldn't believe him.
He patted me on the back and said that I should leave now if wanted to run. I didn't.
For some reason, I believed that he could put an end to the battle as he said, and I wanted to watch him fight.

Shortly after a while, he started fighting. Every time his gun was fired, enemies fell like autumn leaves.
Soon there were only a few enemies left on the battlefield, and having realized their situation, they started running.
But he didn't let them run. He produced some sort of switch from his jacket, and there were explosions all over the place, ripping the enemies apart.

I watched all that with my mouth agape. I'd never seen anything like it.
Not only was he a good fighter, but he was also smart enough to predict the enemy's retreat route and trap it.

After the battle ended, he quietly packed his stuff and got ready to leave.
I approached him and asked his name. He didn't answer.
He said that we'd meet again if we were meant to meet again. He left the battlefield with a smile on his face.

After I came back from the battlefield, I followed his traces and went to every mercenary agency in the world. I couldn't find him.
But I learned that he was the best mercenary there was and he only picked the hardest battles to fight.

Many years have passed, and I'm still a soldier fighting on the battlefield.
I haven't lost my hope of meeting him again... not as enemies, of course.
If I see him again, I'm going to thank him properly for saving my life in the past.