Otaku Translation: Carrying the Bases of Starcraft C61

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The terrain and road conditions of these hills had been meticulously surveyed by the 3789th Division long ago. They knew exactly where vehicles could pass and where ambushes could be set. Having sacrificed a forward position to gain an opportunity to strike behind enemy lines, how could division headquarters not proceed with utmost caution?

If it were just lightly equipped infantry without transport vehicles, facing mechanized infantry or even the highly mobile "Silverwing" special operations battalion, these hard-earned rear-flanking forces would simply be fodder for the enemy. The only possible outcomes would be encirclement, division, and annihilation.

Division headquarters envisioned using these surprise units to catch the Sulru Empire off guard, breaking their encirclement from within. With coordination between inside and outside forces, they aimed to wipe out the reserve company, clear the enemy troops on the western and southern fronts, then regroup and join forces with their northern stronghold to launch a pincer attack on the remaining enemy forces, shattering Wilder Lester’s "siege" operation.

At the very least, if they couldn’t rout the invading forces, they had to hold them back, biting down hard on their tails to relieve the defensive pressure on the logistics base and buy time for decryption efforts.

Thus, despite the unfavorable geography of the hilly terrain for motorized vehicles, they had no choice but to make this decision.

Take the reconnaissance comapny, for instance. When they left the base, they numbered 126 personnel and eight vehicles. After circling through the hills briefly, two vehicles had already broken down. Without prior investigation of the area, the losses might have been far greater.

"Drop your weapons," came the stern command from the empire's soldiers over the comms.

Tang Fang glanced at the growing number of imperial soldiers around him, then at the large-caliber cannons mounted atop the armored vehicles, all locked onto the three of them. He replied coolly, "We’re on the same side."

"On the same side?" The voice remained unmoved. "Unit number? Name?"

"No need to ask—he’s someone I know." A somewhat familiar voice suddenly chimed in over the comms.

The door of the Saber-Tooth A2 reconnaissance vehicle opened, and out stepped a figure who appeared to be an officer. His powered armor bore the designation 3789-1-0-IJ. He leisurely hopped down and sauntered over to stand twenty meters in front of Tang Fang.

"Captain, do you really know him?" one of the soldiers asked.

"Mm-hmm." The officer waved his hand to silence the others, turned his head slightly to scrutinize Tang Fang, and gave an almost imperceptible nod.

With his helmet obscuring his face, his expression was unreadable. Tang Fang frowned deeply, racking his brain but unable to place who this man was.

A captain? And someone who knows me? The only captain from the 3789th Division who knew Tang Fang was Powell—but the voice didn’t match. Could it be Kraftmann? Even less likely.

As Tang Fang pondered, a connection request popped up on his comms interface. It was on a private frequency, and the sender was none other than the captain standing before him.

He wants to talk privately? What does he mean? Tang Fang quickly accepted the request.

"Tang Yan, do you remember me?" came a voice tinged with three parts wistfulness and seven parts mockery.

So, he really does know me. Tang Fang’s mind stirred as he carefully sifted through his memories of arriving on Planet Namie. After disembarking from the transport aircraft, he’d joined the reconnaissance company under the First Armored Brigade, clashed with his fellow soldiers, spent time in confinement, and then embarked on a "suicide mission" to the southern hemisphere…

"I never expected you to still be alive, Tang Yan. Your life is truly tenacious!"

At those words, a spark of recognition ignited in Tang Fang’s mind. "You… it’s you! How did you become a captain?"

"How could I not become a captain? Why shouldn’t I be one?" The man’s voice brimmed with unmistakable pride. "Powell is dead. First Platoon Leader Zhong Luyun lost a leg in an explosion. Third Platoon Leader Anthony is lying in the base hospital, and it’s uncertain if he’ll survive the night. Now, I’m the highest-ranking officer left in the reconnaissance company. Why shouldn’t I be the captain?"

Indeed, this man was none other than Kim Youngho, the second platoon leader of the reconnaissance company, with whom Tang Fang had some past grievances.

Powell—dead? Just like that? A captain, gone so carelessly?

Such was war—brutal and unforgiving. One day, someone might be laughing and joking with you, or bickering fiercely; the next, they’d be a cold, stiff corpse on the battlefield—or perhaps nothing more than scattered fragments of flesh.

Looking at the now somewhat unhinged Kim Youngho, a phrase came to Tang Fang’s mind: Meeting an old acquaintance—the creditor—in a foreign land. But between the two of them, who was the creditor, and who was the debtor? That was a question worth debating.

"I’m sorry, but I have no interest in how you became a captain," Tang Fang said flatly. He’d spent six years mourning the dead. The deaths of comrades had long since become commonplace. As for Powell, not only had they shared no camaraderie, but they were enemies. If he hadn’t died at the hands of the enemy, he would’ve eventually fallen to Tang Fang.

"I only want to know one thing: who’s pulling the strings behind this? You? Powell? Or someone else?"

"Hahahaha!" Kim Youngho seemed to find the question hilarious. "And what if you did know, Tang Yan? Do you really think I’d let you go this time? How naïve. With just their spit alone, my men could drown you."

Unfazed by the taunt, Tang Fang asked again in a calm tone, "Tell me—whose idea was this?"

"I admire your persistence," Kim Youngho’s tone shifted. "But reality is cruel. Ants can never overturn elephants. Lady Luck only bares her white buttocks to the strong."

"If you want to know who planned this, ask the brigade commander. Of course, Colonel Francis might know more." Then, Kim Youngho suddenly raised his right hand. "But do you really think I’d give you the chance?"

"I never beg anyone for opportunities." Tang Fang’s voice remained steady, his gaze piercing past Kim Youngho to the armored vehicles behind him, already arrayed in an offensive formation. "Just as I’ve never bowed to fate. Her ravaged buttocks are something only fools like you would admire."

"Oh? Tang Yan, should I mock your ignorance or admire your fearlessness?" Kim Youngho’s hand began to lower, while the guns in the hands of his soldiers slowly rose. "Heroes never meet good ends!"

"Mm, Francis—I’ll remember him." Tang Fang’s lips curled into a cold smirk, his contracting pupils flashing with icy resolve. "And thank you for the advice. I, Tang Fang, am no righteous hero—just a petty man who holds grudges."

"A dead man still running his mouth—go to hell!" With a roar that bordered on madness, Kim Youngho swung his arm down sharply.

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