Chapter 6: Third Day

The ant workers—black-shelled insectoids, each about the size of a human child. True to their caste, they clustered together, mining the tree crystals.

They mined bare-handed. If you faced them unarmored, a human would be killed in no time. With a centipede exoskeleton, you might manage a fair fight. But my equipment was just a mass-produced Arakane. Its affordability was one of its selling points; I didn’t expect much from its specs, and frankly, I didn’t care to find out.

So instead, I waited. And fired. From a distance.

When I shot an ant and it died, some score ticked upward inside my headset’s goggles. That alone was fun enough that I kept shooting ants just to keep boosting my score.

Still, no matter how fun watching that score climb was, I didn’t go out of my way to hunt.

I’d decided to dedicate myself purely to sniping.

Why?

No big reason.

Maybe I could have racked up a better score by actively moving around. But if I got caught at close range, I wasn’t confident I could handle it.

Half-insect, half-human. Armored like a black knight, but with six limbs and powerful jaws for breaking tree crystals. The ant workers looked, to me… terrifying.

I wouldn’t get close to the ants.

That choice had a major flaw: if the ants didn’t come close, I couldn’t do anything.

Well, technically, guarding the mine didn’t require me to chase them down. But since there was some kind of score system inside my headset, I couldn’t rule out the possibility of a quota. And if there was a quota, I wanted to meet it.

That thought occurred to me sometime in the afternoon of the third day.

By then, maybe thanks to how effective I’d been, word had spread among the ants that this place is dangerous. The little poachers had stopped showing themselves anywhere within sight of my high ground.

***

“…”

As usual, I munched a tasteless block of field ration, gazing absentmindedly at the sky.

Even five hundred years in the future, the sky could still be called blue. Maybe even cleaner, without exhaust fumes.

But looking at it didn’t fill my stomach. I wasn’t a Monoz.

Monoz—special tree crystals cut into unique forms, granted life, and given metal spheres for bodies by human hands. Their true form was still their embedded eye—the tree crystal. And tree crystals fed on sunlight.

That’s why Monoz stared at the sky. It was their sustenance.

Which meant that, for now, the Touji Squad was taking a well-earned break. Even so, as their commander, I was still thinking. About what to do next.

The biggest hurdle was that I didn’t know the quota—or really, the passing criteria.

I should’ve asked Yuri more questions.

But it was too late now.

“Well then…”

What to do?

My words drifted into the sky and vanished.

My thoughts sank beneath the sea.

According to Yuri, I was a thinker.

She was intuition; I was logic.

So I thought.

But I knew I wasn’t smart. That’s why I simplified the problem.

Forget the score. Forget my skill set. Forget my reliable subordinates, the Monoz. Reduce it down to a binary choice: move or don’t move.

I activated my wrist timer. Set it to thirty seconds.

Gripped the necklace made from my old spine. It hurt, faintly—but that sharpened my focus.

“…Yeah.”

Three seconds before the timer rang, I had my answer.

Don’t move.

Stay here till evening, then head back to camp.

That was my decision.

“Dog Unit, Rooster Unit, and you. Go scout the camp.”

And right there where I should’ve stopped, I ordered a recon team to scout the camp.

I’d figured if anyone was already back at camp, I could hitch a ride.

Three units, forming a mobile recon cell:

Dog Unit—excellent at mobile shooting and biting attacks while rolling.

Rooster Unit—good at mid-range overwatch and point defense.

And the last unit—the one still unnamed.

Dog and Rooster could both handle recon, and if needed, could pull out smoothly. The unnamed one was skilled with a vibrating cutlass—a ripper. I’d been considering naming him Tiger Unit or Monkey Unit. Hopefully this recon would settle it.

With that thought, I sent them off.

***

It was Rat Unit who brought me the bad news.

Despite being equipped in a Tatara Heavy Industries combat-model Monoz—great at fighting, poor at intel—he’d always insisted on handling data processing. As a result, he constantly overheated and ended up getting dragged away by Ox Unit.

But today was rare. Rat Unit sped toward me at top speed.

Even Monoz—machines though they were—had experience and skills. By constantly gathering intel, Rat had built up his own signal net. That’s probably why he was the first to catch it.

He sent a message to my terminal.

A red alert.

Source: Rooster Unit.

Friendly forces engaged with ants. Requesting permission for supporting fire.

“…”

I skimmed the message and authorized it. Not out of heroics; I was afraid of the penalties for letting them die.

But once I knew… I couldn’t just leave them.

“I’m heading out. Rat Unit, Snake Unit—advance ahead. Avoid fighting en route. Focus on reaching Rooster’s team. Once you link up, Rat Unit, you take command. Hold position till I arrive. Use up all building materials if needed—dig trenches, whatever it takes.”

“Pi! Pi-pip!”

The two small units chirped confirmation and sped off.

Watching them go, I tossed my sniper rifle toward Ox Unit and reached out my hand.

Ox Unit handed me my sidearm and helmet.

Humans, even five hundred years later, were still fragile. Even wearing a centipede, Ox Unit—hauling all my gear—was faster than me.

“Ox Unit. Sorry, but you’re coming with me. Dropping supplies isn’t allowed. It’ll be heavy, but hang in there.”

“Pi!”

With his acknowledgement at my back, I donned my helmet, grabbed my secondary weapon—a Tatara Heavy Industries Type-7 Light Machine Gun—and sprinted forward.

***

I had been running for thirteen minutes when I finally caught sight of the enemy. My finger reflexively started to squeeze the trigger, then I remembered I wasn’t holding my Type-5 Sniper Rifle. This was the Type-7 Light Machine Gun. I stopped myself just in time.

Instead, I ducked behind a rock, glanced up at the sky, and activated my timer. Fifteen seconds this time.

Okay. Think.

Rat Unit and the others had successfully linked up with Rooster Unit, and I’d already received intel from them.

The enemy numbered around twenty Ants. The current situation was a stalemate. There were confirmed casualties among the friendlies, but no losses in my squad. We’d already relayed reports back to camp. Just holding this line counted as a win. There was no need to panic or push recklessly. I felt a little bad, but to me, my Monoz were more important than the friendlies.

Rat and the others had built a defensive position fairly close to the friendly forces to protect them.

That wasn’t ideal. That distance wasn’t my optimal range. I didn’t want to fight from there. What was the best move? A comm signal came in. The call sign read “Asa.”

Who was that?

“You’re with Dub-C, right? Help us! We’re under attack!”

Annoying. Be quiet. I cut the connection.

Five seconds left. Four. Three. Good.

“Ox Unit,” I called, tossing aside the machine gun.

“Go link up with Rat and the others.” I took the sniper rifle.

Let’s get to work.

I peered through the scope. The angle was bad—I couldn’t shoot prone. I’d have to shoot standing. My breathing was still ragged from running, making the scope shake. That’s why I relied on the centipede, on the external body, on the tech. I’d configured it to lock in place after three steady breaths.

Inhale. Exhale.

Inhale. Exhale.

Inhale… hold.

The centipede locked. My body locked. Lock-on. The soft click echoed in my ears, and somewhere deep inside, I imagined the ticking of a clock’s second hand.

I fired. I killed. I shifted position and repeated it.

Three times.

I deliberately made myself visible. I walked openly, let the gunfire ring out, and exposed myself.

It was to split the ants’ attention. If they froze in fear of a sniper, they’d be easy targets for Rat and the others. If they turned their focus to Rat and the others, they’d be easy targets for me.

And surprisingly, it worked. Thanks to the solid trenches Rat and the others had hastily built, the ants couldn’t breach the line. Their numbers dwindled; they panicked; their movements grew sloppy; and their numbers dropped even faster. A vicious cycle. But for us, it was the perfect flow.

As I walked, shot, and killed, I told myself not to break the rhythm. Just keep going.

A message popped up from Rat Unit in my goggles, requesting tactical confirmation.

“Proposal: Continue defensive strategy.”

There was even a “Like” attached.

I took my hand off the rifle and tapped the floating “Like” icon. No response.

“…All right. Let’s stick with that,” I said aloud. This time, an acknowledgment came back.

Please don’t add unnecessary gimmicks like that.

Still, this was fine. A string pulled too tight snaps easily. I wasn’t letting my guard down, but a little looseness broadened my field of view.

When I widened my gaze, I spotted Dog Unit, Rooster Unit, and the newly named Monkey Unit launching a coordinated attack. Dog Unit took the lead, shielding the others from enemy sight as they sprinted forward in a seamless three-unit assault.

I knew that move. I recognized it.

Jet Stream Attack.

Incredible. I’d never seen it live before.

That sealed it. The unnamed unit’s name would be Monkey Unit. If he was working that well with Dog and Rooster, there was no other name that fit. Team Momotaro was born. And with that, Yuri’s first assignment was complete.

***

In the end, I ranked 29th out of 300 overall. In the sniper squad, I was 7th out of 30. Among the 113 rookies, I was number one. Apparently, the kill count I earned during the final skirmish pushed me to the top.

“I reviewed your headset footage. Good business, rookie.”

It had been about two hours since I returned to base, stripped off the centipede, and relaxed in my fatigues when Alex—the bald giant—called me over, smiling broadly. He held out a big, rough hand. I knew exactly what it meant.

“Thank you,” I said, shaking his hand.

His grip was solid. The hand of a fighter.

Would my hands end up like his someday? Probably. If not, I’d die. So I’d make it happen.

“A rookie ranking top ten in the sniper squad—that’s a first for me.” Alex’s smile deepened. “You’re talented. But you must’ve had excellent training, too. If you don’t mind me asking… who’s your supervisor?”

“Yuri.”

“…Ah.”

His tone shifted instantly. His smile froze, turning awkward. I decided not to pry.

“She’s an incredible soldier,” Alex said quietly. “But as an instructor… well. We assigned her rookies so she could get promoted, but it wasn’t easy.” He sighed. “She’s already ruined three others before you.”

I really didn’t want to know that.

“Anyway. Your pay: 5,000 points per day for three days, plus your ranking bonuses. Total payout: 65,000 points. Go ahead, confirm it.”

A pulse came from the crystal embedded in my left hand. I selected “Receive.” I pulled my tablet from my pocket and checked. 70,000 points.

…Wait. “Um?”

“I like investing in promising rookies.” Alex slid down his sunglasses and gave me a clumsy wink. There was a strange charm in it. Ah. So this… is the charm of a playful adult man. Someday, I’d like to have that too.