Duran Dos 17 - Infiltrating the Biche Research Facility
"After the Typhoon Sheep War kicked off with the Kyrria army's cowardly ambush, we had the bastards on the ropes in no time with Kakil's overwhelming military might. We dominated pretty much every front, but the gap that hurt them the most was resources. Especially oil—what the Kyrria fucks lacked most. They were supposedly running tanks on goddamn soybean oil."
The Kyrria pricks must've been in dire straits. But seriously, do tanks even run on soybean oil?
"Then suddenly, those same Kyrria bastards start rolling out over twenty aircraft carriers and tens of thousands of planes. What do you think the reason was, Corporal Dos?"
"Hmm. They must've struck oil, right?"
"Close, but not quite. If it were just oil fields, we'd be lucky. What they found was something called biche—an energy source."
Biche.
I didn't know the details yet, but whatever it was, it had revived the Kyrria army from the brink of death. Clearly no ordinary substance. Felt kinda like monster byproducts from back home?
Sergeant Klein picked up where Sergeant Helman left off.
"A mysterious material harvested from specific islands in the Morton Archipelago. Similar to petroleum, but unlike black crude, it glows white. And its energy efficiency is insane—about 1.5 to 2 times that of the same weight in oil. They pump it out like it's from a well."
"Don't tell me our team's mission is to destroy the place where they harvest this biche?"
Sergeant Helman shook his head at my question.
"Wrong again, unfortunately. Intel hasn't pinpointed where it's harvested yet. The Kyrria bastards are guarding that secret with their lives. With over three thousand islands big and small in the Morton Archipelago, if they camouflage it well, even we can't find it easily. Plus, over two-thirds of the archipelago is still under their influence."
"So what are we doing, then?"
"Corporal Dos, ever heard the weird rumor about zombies wandering the battlefields?"
"Zombies? Uh... yeah, I think I've heard something like that."
I'd caught wind of it back at basic training. No way that's connected to this biche stuff too, right?
Your expression says you get it. "Biche isn't just fuel. Inject refined biche into a human corpse, and it turns into a zombie-like monster. Word is, the Kyrria army's running bio-experiments to weaponize them for the war."
Zombie soldiers, huh. Regular grunts facing a horde of those horror-show rejects would have a nightmare on their hands. Even if their combat power sucked, an undead legion that doesn't fear death spreads terror just by existing. Maybe that's why command's keeping biche under wraps.
"Luckily, intel pinned down the location of their bio-lab. And our spec-ops team is hitting it. Just us five."
"Is that even possible?"
"If it's not, make it possible. That's the Marine spirit."
"I'm Army, sir."
"I'm Marine, so follow my lead for now."
Scenario: Raid and destroy the Barren Island Research Complex before research progress reaches 100.
📍 Destroyed Facilities:0
📍 Killed Researchers:0
📍 Killed Soldiers:0
📍 Rescued Hostages:0
📍 Dead Teammates:0/5
📍 Research Progress:73/100
Current Rank:D+
After resupplying at the Olba Island garrison, we hopped straight onto the speedboat. No rest right after joining the new team—just diving into the op. Felt like a straight-up action game cutscene. Loved the no-bullshit pacing.
"Kyrria naval forces are thick around Barren Island and the research complex. We'll approach within 10km by speedboat, then switch to boats."
Barren Island was about 50km dead ahead from Olba. The speedboat sliced through the icy sea spray and biting wind. We hit the drop point at 3 a.m. sharp, then deployed the rubber boats.
"Time to switch. Eyes sharp, everyone."
Sergeant Helman's voice always carried weight, but tonight it hit different. Even Sergeant Klein, the motor-mouth, shut up. The frigid air slapped our cheeks.
No chance with Sergeant Walters in this cold. What a shame...
She radiated chill like a freezer. Couldn't even approach. We piled into the rubber boats—manual paddles, of course.
Paddling a rubber boat right takes finesse. I brute-forced it with raw power. If your body's weak, your brain suffers.
"Whoa! Moving like it has an electric motor. So the rumors were true?"
My paddling drew awe from the team. Sergeant Walters just stared ahead, stone-faced. Damn, no points there.
We landed smooth on the rugged western cliffside of Barren Island—picked a spot crawling with jagged rocks. All five hit the beach safe. Checked the time: 3:30 a.m.
"Cliff climb first."
True to Sergeant Helman's word, we were all battle-hardened vets. Hauling full gear up sheer cliffs? Child's play. Once topside, priority one: locate the target.
Doesn't look much different from Olba. A Kyrria research complex here?
Dense tropical jungle stretched out. No wonder air recon struggled. From here on, it was boots-on-the-ground.
"Intel gave us a map, but it's from spies—might not be spot-on. We'll sweep based on it. Stay off enemy radar."
Nothing beats Darkness Radar for this. As Sergeant Helman probed cautiously, I activated my skill.
No guard posts or ambushes nearby. We pushed toward the complex per the map.
"Eerily quiet around here."
"Naval patrols are tight, but landside's a ghost town. Works for us."
Sergeant Trevino grumbled. He was right—minimal ground sentries. Either they trusted sea control, didn't expect us, or were short-staffed.
Maybe manpower issues.
Found the complex easier than expected: cluster of ten concrete buildings dead center, ringed by barbed wire. A few rifle-toting army grunts on watch.
Darkness Radar scan: guards only at the gate. Perimeter otherwise empty. Sloppy as predicted.
"Best to cut a hole in the wire."
Sergeant Helman nodded approval.
"Smart call. Walters, prep."
On cue, Sergeant Walters pulled an entrenching tool from her kit. Prodded the soil under the wire, testing. Digging deep enough for those massive tits would take work.
"Walters is a pro at this."
"This kinda what, exactly?"
"Digging holes. She's Army. Oh, wait—you too."
Sergeant Walters carved a big-ass hole under the wire in no time. Plenty of clearance even for her rack.
"Perfect. Over before patrols circle back."
We tossed gear over, then crawled through. Took about 20 minutes to breach.
"Objectives: trash the main lab and research data. And secure a biche sample."
"Tons of buildings. Where do we start?"
"Bio-experiments mean most are probably holding test subjects. Recon first."
The three buildings ahead screamed "subject pens." Radar showed 'em packed like rats. We crept, staying concealed, checking each.
"Prisoner hold. Skip."
We slipped past via the hole. Enemies oblivious. The few guards were dozing against posts.
Scenario: Raid and destroy the Barren Island Research Complex before research progress reaches 100.
📍 Destroyed Facilities:0
📍 Killed Researchers:0
📍 Killed Soldiers:0
📍 Rescued Hostages:0
📍 Dead Teammates:0/5
📍 Research Progress:88/100
Current Rank:D+
Kyrria's research progress hit 88. Mission: wreck the place before 100. Bet their eggheads were knee-deep in bio-shit right now.
Loose internal security or not, ghosting through without tripping alarms was a slog.
Big complex, lots of staff. We maxed stealth, inching forward.
"Contacts ahead."
Sergeant Walters whispered. Sergeant Helman thumbsliced the air. She nodded.
From behind a wall, Sergeant Walters pounced like a jaguar, snagging a lone researcher—probably heading to the john.
Hand over his mouth before he could scream. Smooth as a trained killer.
(Point to the main lab.)
Sergeant Klein—the only one who spoke Kyrria—growled it in their tongue. Sergeant Walters' jungle knife prodded his throat.
No soldier stays cool in that spot. The researcher, bug-eyed like he'd seen a ghost, jabbed at a white building in the center.
Sergeant Helman clocked it, nodded. Sergeant Walters drove the blade home—no scream, instant lights out. Clean kill.
Poor bastard. What do you expect, wandering solo in a warzone without backup? Deserved it.
"Boss, what now? That building looks dicey to approach."
Quiet Sergeant Trevino spoke up, glaring at the white structure. Sergeant Walters dragged the body aside. Sergeant Helman crossed his arms, thinking.
"Gotta hit it for the biche sample. But those four in sight? Probably guards inside too."
"Worst case, just blow it and bail."
Two goals: demolish the complex, snag biche. Latter tougher. We were damn close on the first.