Mad Dash Retreat and Status Awakening
- Permission to retreat granted. Return safely to base!
The moment those words crackled over the radio, every soldier in the vehicle Kim Seo-jun was driving let out a collective sigh of relief.
"Thank God, retreat approved."
"Whew, thought I was headed to the stockade in my last days."
Sure, they'd saved their lives, but no one wanted to end up in the brig.
One man was different, though.
Private Park Bo-seop, riding shotgun in the truck, couldn't muster a smile at the radio message.
Rattle, rattle, rattle!
Far from smiling, he was trembling harder than ever, teeth chattering in sheer terror.
He had no choice.
Vroooom!
'This... this is insane!'
Kim Seo-jun's driving was beyond comprehension.
No, it wasn't driving at all.
It was a runaway truck.
If someone leaked the black box footage right now, even the manufacturer would claim, "Sorry, looks like a sudden acceleration defect. No other way this truck could go like that. We admit it."
Kim Seo-jun wasn't just ignoring the brakes—he had the accelerator floored.
And this wasn't some German Autobahn.
There were no proper roads.
A massive boulder could appear out of nowhere at any second, and the raging sandstorm made it impossible to spot even if it did!
Park Bo-seop wasn't just any driver, either.
To become a Space Marine driver required passing grueling tests.
You needed solid experience, and the pay reflected that.
Park Bo-seop had even placed in Korean pro racing leagues—not top-tier, but respectable.
So he knew all too well.
'He's crazy. This is straight-up suicide!'
Sergeant Kim Seo-jun's driving was madness.
He knew it too.
He knew he was doing something insane, and he'd heard it endlessly during his active duty.
But he had confidence.
Not blind arrogance.
'My driving experience tops any driver's.'
He'd logged plenty of hours in space.
Simple reason.
'When morale breaks, no one can hold the wheel.'
Kim Seo-jun had a talent for fearing no Mog. In the worst moments—when a powerful Mog appeared and the squad lost their minds—he had to grab the controls.
Desperate escapes, hauling his comrades' lives in the cargo hold while fleeing Mogs.
'No one else drove steady facing the Behemoth.'
He'd encountered that moving apocalypse twice—enough to make regular Space Marines piss themselves, pass out, or drop dead from heart attacks.
While everyone else blacked out, he'd floored it against the Behemoth, that mobile island.
'Stars whipping by the side.'
His skills, forged in those days, couldn't be bad.
Plus, his dynamic visual acuity was top-notch—a huge driving boon.
What looked like 300 kph to others was 100 kph to him.
'And the Steam Pack's still kicking.'
Right now, the Steam Pack made time crawl even slower.
'Gotta cover max distance before it wears off.'
In other words, he had to flee the base as far as possible before the effects faded.
Above all, he felt it.
'Bad vibe. This ain't over.'
This raid wasn't limited to one base.
His gut was spot-on, sooner than he thought.
Even if not, hurrying couldn't hurt.
Kim Seo-jun's truck tore on like a madman. After seven hours, it reached an unmanned supply depot for resupply.
Air regulation complete. You may now remove your suits.
"Take a break."
Entering the underground supply depot—the bunker—everyone finally shed their Battle Suits for the first time.
A wave of stench poured out.
No mere sweat.
Mog blood and flesh clung to the suits, reeking viciously.
Everyone except Kim Seo-jun had pissed themselves to overflowing—another brutal odor.
No one complained, though.
They knew.
This stink was the scent of survival—a miracle.
Kim Seo-jun knew it best.
This was the smell of being alive.
That's when he spotted five subordinates still suited up.
He knew why.
Hard to relax after brushing death.
To them, he said:
"Everyone, ditch the Battle Suits and rest properly."
"We're fine."
"I'm not."
"Sir?"
"Better one solid hour than three half-assed ones."
Words born of experience.
"Steam Pack aftermath's tanking our senses and stamina anyway. We'd suck in a fight right now. If Mogs hit here, better to eat a bullet to the head."
Post-effect, Steam Packs ravaged stamina and mental fortitude.
Like finishing a 66 km marathon.
That was why Dr. Space won the Nobel in Chemistry.
Temporary superhuman awakening, with "just" hallucinations and exhaustion as the cost? Revolutionary drug.
Worthy of the prize.
Right now, they needed perfect rest to recover.
"Worst thing on the battlefield is a useless drag."
Only then did the five peel off their suits.
Everyone devoured energy gels and drinks like mad.
Kim Seo-jun too.
Shoved them down till his throat overflowed.
He knew.
Chances to refuel like this were rare in the field.
Then he settled for rest.
Quick to sleep, like always.
'Status Window.'
The window popped in his mind, and he blurted:
"Status Window."
Then it happened.
Kim Seo-jun's eyes widened at the Status Window.
No more doubting this power.
He was alive—proof it was real.
And it only helped him.
He knew.
'Special powers ain't bad.'
This would boost survival.
He'd seen psykers with unique abilities pull off miracles against Mogs.
Plus, he knew.
'Shit like this happens in space.'
The space age was full of incomprehensible events.
So he dove right in.
"Use points."
Whispered low so subordinates wouldn't hear. A new window appeared.
He got it instantly.
Simple: Kill Mogs for points, spend to grow stronger.
No hoarding for Space Marines—death lurked everywhere.
"Buy Bronze Ticket."
Bought it.
Low expectations.
Anything better than now was a win.
Then:
His eyes narrowed at the plain notice.
Not disappointment.
Opposite.
'Strength was 11. Plus one is like a 10% boost.'
Gaining 10% more strength via training, drugs, or mods? Brutal effort.
One click?
He knew that was huge.
Excitement rose.
'Silver from combat rewards.'
Higher tiers existed.
"Use Silver Ticket."
No hesitation.
Talent Upgrade Ticket (C) acquired!
◈ Effect: Upgrades one talent's rank to C.
He blinked.
'What?'
Not hard to grasp.
Anyone playing gacha games popular in Korea would get it in ten minutes.
'This just dropped?'
Insane luck.
No saving it for later—Space Marines didn't plan that far.
He had a good talent already.
"Use Talent Upgrade Ticket."
Which talent to apply it to?
"Dynamic Visual Acuity."
Applied his luck there.
├─ Rank E:Enhanced perception ✓
└─ Rank C:Major upgrade — UNLOCKED ★
No immediate change.
Scenery looked the same.
He tossed his energy gel lightly into the air.
Then:
'Ah.'
The gel hung frozen in his vision.
Label, nutrition facts—crystal clear.
Familiar sight.
'Just like Steam Pack.'
World froze on injection.
'Holy shit.'
Goosebumps everywhere.
'This is my new baseline? No more Steam Pack needed?'
And more.
'Wait, with Steam Pack on top...'
Uncharted territory.
Then:
Beep!
Bunker lights flashed red. Alarm blared.
Everyone jumped up.
The bunker announced:
HEADQUARTERS DESTROYED
Their destination—gone.
CHAPTER 6
Headquarters Destroyed!
"Wh-what the hell is this bullshit?"
Panic erupted among the bunker soldiers.
"No way!"
They denied it.
Made sense.
On a resource planet, HQ wasn't just command.
Strongest firepower, supply hub.
"H-how do we get back to Earth?"
HQ was the sole exit to Earth.
Gone? No way home!
They'd mined resources, but conscripts hated this—unthinkable shock.
Only one stayed calm: Sergeant Kim Seo-jun.
No surprise.
No reason for it.
'Fourth time HQ's gone down.'
Not his first rodeo.
So he knew.
"Calm down. Freaking out just wastes oxygen."
Panic hurt everyone.
"Keep it up, I'll shoot you myself."
His harsh warning froze the screaming subordinates.
All eyes on him.
"Rest max. Eight hours minimum here."
Confusion in their eyes.
Rest now? HQ destroyed?
He explained.
"HQ down means heavy attack—Mogs or enemy nation. Rushing in helps jack shit. If Mogs, we're dessert."
Most rational call.
Their eyes cleared bit by bit.
Chaos lingered, but they knew: This wasn't a green deputy sergeant.
A freak veteran.
In this hell, veterans were gospel.
They rested as ordered.
Kim Seo-jun too.
Lay on the bunker's cramped floor, deep sleep.
No attacks, thankfully. Full eight hours.
Most half-recovered, tossing and turning.
Only Kim Seo-jun fresh, no fatigue.
His eyes said it.
"Private Park Bo-seop."
"Yes?"
"Huh?"
He startled at the echo.
"P-Private P-Park Bo-seop!"
"Prep the vehicle."
"D-driving, sir? Wh-where to?"
"Headquarters."