Command Delegated, Cache Seized
Kim Seo-jun had a good eye for people.
It wasn't something he was born with.
Humans always revealed their true nature when death was staring them in the face, and Kim Seo-jun had witnessed that countless times.
In his view, Major Lee Hye-na seemed like a decent person.
'No matter the mission, she wouldn't come to a planet alone.'
For starters, the fact that she was carrying out a solo mission on Amotia Planet was proof she was driven by a sense of duty.
He could tell from their conversations, too.
She was doing her best to look out for him and Private Park Bo-seop.
And psykers like her weren't all that common.
That's why he'd dared to offer a few opinions of his own.
He figured he could stretch out his legs a bit.
"You're delegating full command to me?"
"That's right."
But this response was something even Kim Seo-jun hadn't anticipated.
Handing over command was a radical move.
It wasn't just "do whatever"—it meant Major Lee Hye-na would now follow his orders from here on out.
'Not passing the buck, that's for sure.'
And it wasn't some ploy to dodge criminal liability, either.
Military law didn't bend for tricks like that.
Besides, Major Lee Hye-na wasn't the type to scheme that shrewdly.
She'd made the call because she trusted his abilities.
Of course, that wasn't the only reason. It was a big one, though.
"Thank you."
'She must think I'm a psyker.'
But in Kim Seo-jun's eyes, there was another solid reason, too.
It was entirely plausible.
Given what he'd shown so far, anyone would assume he was a psyker.
Psyker agents hid their identities all the time, after all.
'No harm in that.'
From his perspective, there was no reason to turn it down.
It was way easier than explaining everything—let her think "psyker!" and call it a day.
Sure, problems might crop up later, but right now, "later" wasn't on his mind.
There was only one thing to do.
"Then we're moving out to the enemy outpost. Now."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Amotia Planet was a wasteland.
That was the surface impression.
But if there was truly nothing here, it wouldn't be an Orange-grade world—no country would scramble to develop it despite the Mog swarms.
Beneath the ground lay vast riches in resources.
Mines dotted the planet, making perfect hideouts for troublemakers.
With power hooked up, the maze-like shelters and chambers could be used indefinitely.
That's why the thieves had turned the Hongwon Mine—abandoned after the Chinese Amotia branch wrapped up development—into their lair.
It had top-notch security: gear to crack supply crates, defenses against outsiders (like the crates' rightful owners).
They kept sharp external watch, too.
One problem, though.
Their defenses didn't account for psykers.
Which made sense.
You don't drag a precious psyker along to say, "Sir/Ma'am, our supply crate got stolen—could you track it down?" They'd just laugh: "Do I look like a joke to you?"
Kwajik!
"Clear."
The moment Major Lee Hye-na showed up, the Hongwon Mine's defenses—once Chinese military property—crumbled like paper.
And that was just the start.
Tut-tu!
"Clear."
Kim Seo-jun, plunging in after her, put on a show of his own.
No, it was beyond a show—he outdid even the major in sheer terror.
'X-ray vision is straight-up broken.'
In the twisting maze of the mine, its value was immeasurable.
But x-ray wasn't omnipotent.
It depended on density.
Loose airborne particles? Low density—easy to see through.
Rocks? Limits applied.
Dense metal like iron? Often impossible.
Still, the utility was off the charts.
Especially with Major Lee Hye-na and Sergeant Kim Seo-jun teamed up: one clears the path, the other finishes the job. Perfect synergy.
Situation resolved in no time.
Tut-tu!
"Clear."
With Kim Seo-jun's final gunshot, no signs of life remained anywhere.
But the real action started now.
Word of the breach would have hit the Chinese Amotia HQ by now—they'd dispatch forces immediately.
"Grab what we can and bounce."
Kim Seo-jun and Major Lee Hye-na headed to the warehouse piled with stolen supplies.
Conveniently, the Chinese had them neatly stacked.
They took only what they could carry.
Greed always backfires.
"Sergeant Kim."
"Yeah, I see it."
But spotting an unopened supply crate, they froze.
A massive one.
"Psyker supplies."
No label screaming "Psyker gear—hands off!" but the signs were clear.
Regular crates would've been cracked open ages ago.
This one? Fresh struggle marks from recent failed attempts.
Major Lee Hye-na hesitated.
Psyker supplies were priceless.
But hauling it? Greedy on multiple levels.
Too big—meant ditching food, ammo.
And opening it? Dicey. Might not even work.
Forced entry could trigger a bomb—common psyker security.
Same thoughts ran through Kim Seo-jun's head.
'Can't even x-ray it.'
Even he couldn't peek inside.
Best to leave it.
'Dial lock?'
But spotting the dial combination lock, his expression shifted.
Common setup, surprisingly.
Biometrics were secure but fragile, and required the owner present—useless if dead or immobilized.
Keys? Lost easily.
Dials had their perks.
Didn't matter what they used.
What mattered:
'Can I x-ray this?'
To Kim Seo-jun, with x-ray vision, dial locks were a joke.
No hesitation.
He activated it.
The internals sprang into view—the tumblers, pins, everything crystal clear.
He spun the dial.
Drurururu...
Quiet as a whisper—no telltale clicks for eavesdroppers, like in movies.
Didn't matter to him.
He saw it.
The disc aligning perfectly at the right number, slotting into the groove.
Stop. Reverse. Repeat.
Ten times in.
Pshhhhh!
The crate hissed open.
"Holy shit."
From across the room, Major Lee Hye-na—who'd been checking other crates, oblivious—freaked out.
She rushed over, yelling.
"Get behind me!"
Shielding him.
Shed thought it was a bomb or trap going off.
Reality hit quick.
"Oh."
Her face hardened.
Half embarrassment.
"H-how?"
Half disbelief.
Staring at him, she got her answer.
"Got lucky."
"Lucky?!"
Her face screamed, You expect me to buy that?
Kim Seo-jun cut in.
"It's my ability. X-ray vision. That's all the explanation you get."
She blinked in shock, then nodded.
Psykers could do anything.
"Let's check the goods first."
No time for questions now.
They peered in.
Guns first: three pistols, three assault rifles, one sniper rifle.
No suit.
Rest? Ammo, packed tight.
Made sense.
Psyker resupplies were for training/missions—add-ons if needed.
Suit intact? No request.
Ammo and guns? Standard ask.
Value? Beyond civilian dreams.
Gauss tech rifles, matching special rounds.
Jackpot.
But Kim Seo-jun's eyes locked on one thing.
'No way.'
A can of space cola, tucked in the corner.
Memory flashed—long ago.
He spoke.
"Ever hear if Hawk Eye came here?"
"Hawk Eye?"
Major Lee Hye-na's face changed.
Shock.
The name crushed all who roamed the stars.
'America's top sniper.'
Best shot among all humanity in space.
"Sergeant Kim, you saying this is Hawk Eye's? How can you be sure?"
Looked standard—no nation marks, no clues.
Hawk Eye wasn't your average psyker.
US colonel, power beyond rank.
Not for an Orange-grade rock.
Kim Seo-jun knew.
But reason was simple.
"Cola."
"Cola?"
"Yeah."
Memory surged: second Behemoth encounter.
Hawk Eye mobilized to hunt the monster; US Space Force succeeded.
Kim Seo-jun hadn't met her—too busy fleeing.
Heard the story post-rescue, back at the station.
Company commander clapped his shoulder: "Seo-jun, Hawk Eye called you a crazy bastard!"
'Full throttle past a star, Behemoth on my tail? Yeah, insane.'
Shed seen his desperate escape.
And sent a gift: cola.
That's when he knew.
"Hawk Eye loves cola."
That faceless legend enjoyed the stuff.
Not exclusive, sure—PX had plenty.
"That's it. Not certain. Just asking on a hunch."
He dropped it.
No proof.
But he thought:
'...Please, no. Please.'
If Hawk Eye was here, Amotia was hell beyond imagining.
Separately, his hand reached for the crate.
Major Lee Hye-na panicked.
"Sergeant Kim! Hawk Eye's supplies! Steal that and—"
We're fucked! her eyes screamed.
"Not certain. And I'm not stealing."
"Not?"
"Yeah. Chinese stole it. Leave it, they own it."
Then:
"Just returning it to the original owner."
Her eyes wavered.
To her, he added:
"Sure, returning it might cause issues."
Paused, eyed the Chinese corpses strewn about.
"But that's not on us."
She had no retort.
No time, anyway.
The radio crackled.
Private Park Bo-seop, holding position outside, sounded frantic.
- We're screwed! Tank Worms just showed up!