Five Days of Rest and the Phantom Strike
“I want more range.”
When Jo Yi-hyun presented him with two options, Kim Seo-jun chose increased range without a moment’s hesitation.
“Give me just five days.”
In response to Seo-jun’s choice, Jo Yi-hyun demanded time—and the moment everyone heard how much time, they were stunned.
It wasn’t because five days felt impossibly long in this dire situation.
‘Even tuning a car properly takes over a week.’
They were shocked that she could produce results in a mere five days.
And this wasn’t even at the fully equipped U.S. headquarters—it was the Polish base. Pulling that off in such a place was nothing short of miraculous.
“Looking forward to it.”
For Seo-jun, it was a miracle he had no reason to refuse.
Of course, that didn’t mean he could let his guard down completely.
“We don’t know when the Mogs or the Chinese might attack.”
An emergency could erupt at any moment without warning.
“Even if nothing happens, we have to assault the Chinese headquarters in five days.”
Five days from now, they’d have to march all the way to the distant Chinese base and launch an insane, impossible attack.
They had to prepare for war—an expedition, no less—in just five days!
Everyone steeled themselves.
These five days would be busier, more grueling, and more desperate than any before.
And Seo-jun would demand exactly that.
“So for these next five days,”
Seo-jun said to them,
“get as much rest as you can.”
“Pardon?”
Everyone froze in confusion, and Seo-jun clarified more precisely.
“Aim for at least ten hours of deep sleep per day, and ramp up your calorie intake.”
Rest properly—not some half-hearted break, but real recovery.
This came from Seo-jun’s hard-earned experience.
He knew it all too well.
No amount of preparation or practice in five days would amount to more than a superficial skim.
Especially Seo-jun knew.
“Only with full physical and mental stamina will the Steam Pack’s effects last longer, with fewer side effects.”
In the end, wars were decided by who was higher on drugs.
No one questioned the explanation.
From that moment, everyone began resting in earnest. On the third day, Jo Yi-hyun returned.
“It’s done! I boosted the range! Reload time’s probably up by about 1.5 times normal, though.”
She showed off the upgraded Thunder.
Seo-jun’s squad gaped in surprise.
“Didn’t you say five days?”
“Yeah, but Thunder turned out to be no joke.”
Even Jo Yi-hyun looked amazed as she answered.
“This definitely wasn’t made by the Chinese. Even if they did, it’s not their tech level. The chassis safety is better than any battle tank out there right now—even better than the one I was developing back in the States. Made my job easy. No reinforcements needed.”
Great news all around. From then on, Seo-jun’s squad started timing their next move.
“Sergeant Kim, when do we head out?”
The timing for striking the Chinese headquarters.
Seo-jun replied,
“Soon.”
“Soon?”
“There’s a high chance we’ll get a distress call from the Japanese base saying they’re under Chinese attack any day now.”
Everyone tilted their heads, and Seo-jun explained.
“If the Chinese can control Ghost Bats, they’ll obviously use them to cripple the Japanese HQ’s main forces first, then follow up with ground troops.”
To the stunned group, Seo-jun said with unyielding resolve,
“God, I hope that doesn’t happen.”
If his prediction came true, it would confirm the Chinese could control Ghost Bats too.
‘Whenever I think the worst, it usually happens.’
Unfortunately, everything unfolded exactly as Seo-jun feared.
Thirty-one hours after Thunder’s range upgrade, the distress call came from Japan.
Lin Zi-ai, the second lieutenant. When she ordered the extermination of all survivors on Amotia, most figured it would be tough.
But Lin Zi-ai was confident. She had to be.
“Hit them with Ghost Bats first, then send in Mogs to shake things up. We’ll mop up after.”
Not only could she control Mogs, but she had four undisclosed psyker agents under her command.
Above all, she had her ability.
“I’ll sniff out any remaining stragglers.”
No matter what they tried to hide, her special power would uncover it.
Their first target: Japanese HQ, ranked seventh in forces on Amotia.
The op went smoothly, and soon she heard the results.
The broadcast to everyone on Amotia naturally reached the Chinese HQ too. Lin Zi-ai waited as she listened.
“Good news soon, I’d say.”
On the second day after Japanese HQ’s planet-wide distress call, Lin Zi-ai heard it.
Boom!
A sudden explosion rocked the Chinese HQ, red warning lights flooding every corner.
“The headquarters is under attack!”
Lin Zi-ai’s face hardened.
It wasn’t incomprehensible. China had declared war on everyone on Amotia by hitting Japan. Retaliating against Chinese HQ was a valid move.
But at this stage, no nation had the forces or guts for it.
‘With the U.S. HQ fallen, who’d hit us?’
She’d personally crushed the nations capable of it first.
But she didn’t dwell long.
Survival in the space age boiled down to one rule: when attacked, fight or flee—and pick fast. Lin Zi-ai’s choice was clear.
Counterattack!
“Who’s the enemy?”
She demanded the target immediately.
“Well...”
Her subordinate hesitated, and Lin Zi-ai snapped,
“This is a wartime emergency. Delay another answer, and it’s summary execution.”
“S-sorry, ma’am!”
The chilling words prompted a response.
“W-we can’t see them!”
“What?”
“The enemy... we can’t see the enemy.”
Lin Zi-ai drew her sidearm. A warning.
If this was nonsense, she’d execute as promised.
She was certain she’d pull the trigger soon.
Chinese HQ was under clear, powerful attack right now.
That meant at least a battle tank or equivalent armor!
Invisible?
“What’s radar picking up?”
Something human-sized might slip by, but not a massive machine.
“N-nothing.”
Her eyes flickered—just a bit.
Not fully rattled, though. She knew.
‘Stealth-armored vehicle.’
Tech to fool radar existed aplenty.
And against that, only physical recon worked.
“Confirm attack vector and launch recon drones.”
Drones launched from Chinese HQ at her order.
“One kilometer ahead—clear!”
Reports came kilometer by kilometer.
“Two kilometers ahead—clear!”
Everyone held their breath, counting down.
“Seven kilometers ahead—clear.”
But at seven klicks, the mood shifted.
“Ten kilometers ahead—clear.”
And finally,
“N-nothing at all.”
Weeeeeng!
Hundreds of recon drones whirred eerily over the wasteland.
Beneath the noise, Kim Seo-jun, Private Park Bo-seop, and Major Lee Hye-na huddled under camouflage cloaks, holding their breath.
Finally, Park Bo-seop whispered,
“Sergeant Kim, no more drone noise around us.”
Seo-jun replied,
“Mission success.”
The moment he heard Thunder’s railgun range now exceeded 15 kilometers, Seo-jun laid out the plan: strike from maximum distance at their weakest alert moment, then store Thunder in inventory and go dark.
No follow-ups.
Simple reason.
‘If we can’t wipe them out, hit max damage with minimal risk.’
Most efficient approach.
And not just efficient—it was devastating.
Sudden attack on HQ, no trace of enemy?
Mind-breaking.
‘Panic in victory hits harder.’
Especially for the Chinese, thinking they’d already won.
This was a battlefield. No whining about trauma, no psych leave requests.
Everyone at Chinese HQ would spend sleepless days hunting phantoms, bracing for the unknown.
‘The grunts below will drop dead from exhaustion.’
Seo-jun knew the terror of recon in a sleep-deprived haze.
Zero risk for his squad. They’d scored, now slip away.
Best cost-performance op imaginable.
But no one smiled. They couldn’t.
“Sergeant Kim, next op?”
Seo-jun had backups planned post-success—not committing, just ready.
Now, he played a card.
“Let’s gamble.”
Twelve hours after the Chinese HQ attack.
Red warning lights still bathed the base.
Silence everywhere.
All soldiers and staff held position, breath bated, max alert.
The fatigue was indescribable.
Even idle waiting for 12 hours itched; tense standby? Illness-inducing.
And it wasn’t just waiting.
‘A ghost... a ghost attacked us!’
Ignoring the unknown, crushed by fear for 12 hours.
Dozens of weak-willed had already fainted, laid up in med bay.
They waited for their commander’s answer.
‘Damn it.’
Lin Zi-ai looked grimmer than ever.
Not from ignorance—she knew exactly what this was.
‘A psyker’s ploy. Wearing us down.’
A psyker’s scheme for attrition, not full assault.
Her grimness stemmed from knowing that... and having few options.
What could you do against an invisible, hiding foe?
Chinese HQ couldn’t relax. Another hit would amplify terror.
Especially with key forces out attacking Japan.
Hold the madness till they returned.
So Lin Zi-ai pondered.
‘They’ll strike once more before then.’
High chance of another poke for impact.
That’d be their counter window.
She was waiting for it.
Then—
“Thirty kilometers ahead!”
Someone shouted.
“Battle tank spotted!”
Lin Zi-ai’s eyes gleamed.
“What now?”
Everyone thought: pursue now. Catch it, end the nightmare.
Lin Zi-ai agreed.
But she thought deeper.
“Send troops, they’ll bolt.”
Not idiots; they’d react to tails.
Plus, their psyker could hide giant tanks.
Making noise was stupid.
“Then what?”
She eyed the map.
“Send Ghost Bats.”