Descent into the Hatching Grounds
The Mog species that humanity faced was nightmare fuel in every conceivable way.
But the most terrifying aspect by far was their utterly insane reproduction rate.
Mogs hatched from eggs, and the time it took for them to emerge was ridiculously short.
Under certain conditions, tens of thousands of Mogdogs could spawn in just one hour—something that defied all logic.
Space Marines heard about the horrors of Mogs endlessly during basic training.
And inevitably, there would always be that one recruit who asked the question.
“So, what do Mogs even eat?”
It was a fair question, but Mogs didn't eat normal food.
No way could they survive in space like that, where edible matter was practically nonexistent.
So what did they eat?
The answer was simple.
“Mogs feed on beta gas.”
Beta gas—the high-density energy source mined from space—was their fuel.
Mogs feed on beta gas.
“That's why Mogs and humans are destined to clash.”
For that reason, conflict between Mogs and humanity was inevitable.
And up to this point, it was all easy enough to grasp on hearing it.
But then things veered into the incomprehensible, thanks to one man: Doctor Space.
“I've perfected beta gas concentration technology! Now we can convert beta gas from gaseous to solid form using a simple, cheap method! And in the process, we remove impurities to create ultra-high-density beta gas!”
He unveiled a revolutionary technique for processing beta gas, and all of humanity went wild.
The Nobel Committee happily awarded him another Nobel Prize in Chemistry, praising how his discovery had advanced humanity's future yet again.
The tech completely reshaped the value of the space age.
In an era where logistics were prohibitively expensive, beta gas concentration eliminated energy worries and explosively expanded humanity's reach into space.
Humanity cheered for the breakthrough.
Kiiiiieeee!
And so did the Mogs.
Because to them, humanity's concentrated beta gas was a game-changer for producing even more eggs.
Even better, it dramatically increased the spawn rate of special variants.
That's why you'd often see it: Mogs turning sites rich in concentrated beta gas into hatching chambers.
And the scene Kim Seo-jun's squad was witnessing right now was exactly that.
“Sergeant Kim, is that a hatching chamber?”
“Yeah.”
The US headquarters on Amotia Planet—once the second-largest base after China's on this world—now lay in ruins, stripped of all function, covered in Mog eggs and the green slime oozing from them.
“My God, what the hell happened here?”
“It's routine.”
“Sir?”
“The US excels at beta gas concentration. When shit hit the fan, they would've rushed every ounce of concentrated beta gas from the mining sites to HQ.”
“To HQ?”
“Energy's key for survival. Not just on Amotia, but out in space too.”
“Ah!”
Park Bo-seop got it the moment he heard the rest.
“And the Americans are obsessed with energy. When they scout a planet, beta gas deposits are the first thing they check—before any other resource.”
Kim Seo-jun was certain the US base held far more concentrated beta gas than anyone imagined.
Normally, that wouldn't be an issue.
Humanity wasn't stupid; they didn't just leave the stuff lying around to taunt the Mogs.
And Mogs didn't speak human languages or recognize storage containers on sight.
Crucially, this was the US base—not some other nation's.
They lagged behind China only in manpower; technologically, China was still a step behind.
'But when problems arise, hell breaks loose.'
Of course, none of that mattered right now.
“So, Sergeant Kim, what do we do?”
The key issue for Kim Seo-jun's squad was that rescuing Jennifer Cho had just gotten a hell of a lot harder.
Hatching chambers were absolute no-go zones for Space Marines.
They hammered that into you during training: Spot a hatching chamber? Run like hell, don't look back.
Don't even think about doing anything there.
And no one needed training to know that—anyone seeing one would steer clear anyway.
Kieeek!
Kiaaaah!
Sure, there might be some lunatic who'd charge into fresh hell where Mogdogs and Thorn Snakes were hatching live—but the odds of one surviving to reach it were zero.
Kruuuuuh!
“Holy shit! Tank Worm!”
And among those eggs, rare powerhouses could emerge at low odds.
Not exactly ideal for a rescue op.
“Sergeant Kim.”
So Private Park Bo-seop was dead certain Kim Seo-jun would call it off: Op's canceled, we're pulling back.
“Rescue op continues.”
“Yes, sir! Wait—what? Did I hear that wrong?”
When those words came out, Park Bo-seop gawked at Kim Seo-jun in horror.
Kim Seo-jun hadn't seen the private's face, but he knew exactly what he was feeling.
“Hatching chambers are safer than you think.”
He explained.
“Freshly hatched Mogs haven't developed full sensory functions yet. And newborns don't just mill around—they get orders right away and move to staging areas. Safer than running into a Mog legion on the road.”
Park Bo-seop's expression screamed: What bullshit is this? Where's your proof?
“I know it's hard to believe. But you can trust it.”
Kim Seo-jun laid it out.
“I've been inside one myself.”
“Sir?”
“I've entered a hatching chamber before.”
A memory he'd rather not revisit flashed in Kim Seo-jun's mind as he spoke.
“Y-You've been inside a hatching chamber?”
“Yeah.”
And it wasn't just once.
Kim Seo-jun held up three fingers as he spoke.
“Three times.”
Hearing that, Private Park Bo-seop dropped all doubts.
Kim Seo-jun did too—no more explanations needed.
They'd committed. Only one thing left to do.
“Op starts in ten minutes.”
Jennifer Cho hadn't radioed since exposing China's secret research.
To be precise, she couldn't.
> Radio use unavailable.
“What do you mean? Why not?”
> Radio use unavailable.
The bunker radio was busted.
Highly unusual.
The bunker's core function was survival, and radio comms to report internal status externally was priority one.
By now, Jennifer had a pretty good idea what was up.
“What the hell's going on out there?!”
Unimaginable horrors unfolding outside her bunker—inside the US headquarters.
> Oxygen supply will cease in 20 minutes.
Oxygen running low too.
Pointed to some physical issue outside the bunker.
But that didn't matter to Jennifer right now.
She just prayed.
“Please, anyone—come save me. Anyone. Save me.”
But she knew better than anyone.
No response so far meant none coming.
Even her brilliant mind had calculated survival odds at 0%.
Still, she prayed.
“Please, just save me.”
Desperately.
“If you save me, I'll do anything. I'll worship God, whatever—just don't let me die like this.”
The moment those words escaped her lips—the woman who'd never once believed in God.
Thud!
Something pounded on the bunker door.
“Huh?”
Startled, Jennifer jumped and looked up.
Then she heard a voice over the wired intercom from beyond the bunker door.
—This is Sergeant Kim Seo-jun of the Korean Space Force. Here to answer your rescue request.
"This is Sergeant Kim Seo-jun of the Korean Space Force. Here to answer your rescue request."
As Kim Seo-jun predicted, the hatching chamber was safer than expected.
But “safer” didn't mean “safe.”
Normally, he'd never set foot in one.
Put differently, he had a reliable edge today that he wouldn't usually.
'With Teleport, it's worth a shot.'
He could use Teleport 32 times per hour.
And in emergencies, Stealth too—moving through the chamber wasn't impossible for him.
One problem, though.
'Just gotta find her in time.'
US HQ was massive compared to the time limit.
Pinpointing Jennifer's bunker precisely? Tricky.
His abilities weren't omnipotent.
Stealth and Teleport were top-tier, but both guzzled mana.
Only one thing to hope for.
'That she's got some luck.'
And surprisingly, she did.
Kim Seo-jun found her bunker way sooner than anticipated.
Not by blind luck—no “guessed right first try, jackpot!” moment.
Credit went to the US Space Marines who'd fought to the end.
Instead of fleeing to bunkers against the Mog hordes, they chose last stands—and some left marks on walls.
[Jennifer Cho is in there.]
They'd marked the bunker hiding humanity's genius treasure.
[May the grace of God be with you.]
Desperate prayers included.
Seeing those notes from the US Marines, Kim Seo-jun wasn't shocked.
He'd witnessed it before.
The nobility and desperation of those embracing death.
One thing he knew for sure.
'She's no villain.'
Those with shady pasts don't get farewell letters from the dying—a rare honor.
Thanks to that, Kim Seo-jun reached Jennifer's bunker fast.
Pssshhh!
And made contact.
“Th-thank you!”
Guided by Kim Seo-jun, she emerged in her suit and rushed over, overflowing with gratitude.
“I'll do anything. Whatever I can, it's yours. Money, anything—thank you so much.”
Intensely.
“Thank you for saving me.”
She poured sincere thanks on her rescuer, and Kim Seo-jun replied.
“Haven't saved you yet.”
His face was stone-cold serious.
Had to be.
'This is where it really starts.'
Getting here, he'd dodged major threats thanks to Teleport's stealth.
But those skills worked only for him.
Escaping with her? Whole different ballgame.
No way was she “saved” yet.
“Huh? What do you mean?”
Even Jennifer sensed something off there.
“No one else with you?”
Only one soldier in sight: Kim Seo-jun.
Didn't add up.
US HQ collapsing, and just one guy comes for her?
Sure, if he was a Psyker, maybe—but vibes weren't great, and she was sharp enough to read the room.
To her, Kim Seo-jun said:
“US HQ's a Mog hatching chamber now.”
“What?”
“Eggs everywhere. From here on, we punch through and get out—just you and me.”
That painted the full picture for Jennifer.
“Wh-what do I need to do?”
Here, she proved she wasn't babbling nonsense—she'd follow any order.
Impressed by her quick grasp, Kim Seo-jun answered.
“Follow my lead.”
Jennifer nodded vigorously.
“Yes! I'll obey no question. What now?”
To her question, Kim Seo-jun replied.
“Hop on my back first.”
“Huh?”
“Your mobility sucks right now. Better if I carry you.”
She nodded without hesitation.
No naive “But we just met, piggyback's embarrassing!” from her.
And he was spot-on.
Her suit wasn't Battle Suit-grade, and she was a civilian, not a Space Marine.
So Jennifer swiftly climbed on, and Kim Seo-jun secured her with straps he'd brought.
Even if she passed out, no falling off.
“So, what's the plan now?”
Strapped in, Jennifer asked—and Kim Seo-jun answered.
“We're running.”
“Huh?”
Thud!
Then he bolted full-tilt instead of replying.
Kim Seo-jun hadn't agonized long after grabbing Jennifer.
'We're busted anyway.'
Without Stealth or Teleport, stealthy creeping wouldn't last—detection inevitable.
Better to haul ass.
He had confidence too.
'With my current Strength stat, no sweat.'
His physical specs had long surpassed human limits.
So he ran—and predictably, Mogs throughout US HQ reacted.
Kieeek!
Mogdogs reacted first, giving chase.
“Aaaah!”
Jennifer screamed at the realization.
Never imagined a rescue like this!
And what Kim Seo-jun was doing? Stark raving mad.
Sure, his body outclassed humans.
Kieeek!
But to Mogdogs? Laughable.
They closed the gap at astonishing speed.
Tut-tut! Tut-tut!
Kim Seo-jun dropped incoming ones quick, but the gunfire drew even more.
In the worsening chaos, he burst out of the cramped US HQ building.
There it was.
Countless eggs. Hatching Mogs.
And thousands already awakened.
“Holy fucking shit!”
Jennifer cursed fluently in Korean.
Totally justified.
Even her genius brain couldn't plot an escape from this.
Kim Seo-jun didn't call her out.
Perfectly natural reaction.
He didn't curse, though.
“Set me down a sec.”
“Huh?”
He lowered Jennifer, then played his ace.
“Inventory.”
His vast inventory—he stepped inside.
“What?”
Jennifer stared blankly.
To her, he'd just vanished.
Then she saw it.
Vroooom!
Kim Seo-jun emerging astride the Black Dragon bike.