Otaku Translation: Carrying the Bases of Starcraft C92

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Simultaneously, two metal cables shot out from the wings of the shuttle. At the end of each cable was a blue crystalline stone shaped like a square cone. As power surged through the system, the cone unfolded outward, deploying a parachute-like buffer device as thin as gossamer. These formed two translucent curtains at the rear of the shuttle.

It was unclear what material these seemingly delicate yet incredibly resilient curtains were made of. Despite the extreme speed, they remained undamaged under the fierce assault of air currents.

1.5 Mach, 1.2 Mach, 0.9 Mach, 0.7 Mach...

The shuttle's speed rapidly decreased. Finally, with a streak of silver slicing across the sky, the automatic navigation corrected the course, and the nose of the shuttle crashed into an inland lake with a thunderous splash, sending waves and mist flying in all directions.

As the craft hit the water, inertia caused both Arroz and Housen inside the cockpit to be flung upwards, colliding with the transparent glass canopy above them with a loud thud.

Housen's left cheek was distorted by the pressure of the glass, but his mouth was wide open, shouting excitedly: "Arroz, you old bastard, didn’t I tell you? This thing was made by Epsilon, not made in Mengya. Have you ever seen a spaceship that can automatically correct its course and find a suitable landing spot? Ever? This is so thrilling!"

After a series of buffers including the atmosphere, parachutes, and water, the shuttle finally slowed down.

Both men fell back to the ground. Arroz glanced at Tang Fang, who was still unconscious on the pilot's seat, then turned to look out at the underwater world through the porthole. He couldn’t help but let out a long sigh of relief.

Though Housen’s words were crude, there was truth in them. This cosmic journey had been incredibly exhilarating—so much so that it almost cost him his life.

"Gurgle, gurgle..." Outside, bubbles floated continuously, algae swayed with the current, and schools of unknown fish darted around. Some curious little creatures pressed close to the glass, their round eyes filled with curiosity and innocence, examining the three occupants of the cockpit in detail.

The lake was about 30 meters deep. In moments, the shuttle sank to the bottom, its heavy frame settling on the riverbed, stirring up clouds of mud and sand.

When their vision cleared, Housen looked up at the shimmering surface above and softly asked, "Hey, Arroz, what now?"

"What do you mean 'what now'? We get out, obviously. Do you plan to spend the New Year here?"

Housen turned around to see Arroz quickly removing his powered armor. "Hey, hey, no need to rush. Can't we wake Tang Fang up first before we go?"

"No time," Arroz replied without looking up. After taking off his own armor, he began helping the unconscious Tang Fang remove his suit.

"No time? What do you mean?"

Arroz continued his task. "Do you think barging into someone else's territory like this will make the owner happy? Emergency personnel might already be on their way to investigate the crash. Remember, this is an Epsilon shuttle. If they find out we can operate it, we'll end up on the operating table—having our brains dissected, our skin peeled for research."

Housen shuddered at the thought and promptly started shedding his cumbersome "Marauder" powered armor.

It took only a few minutes for all three of them to strip off their armor and switch to lighter gear. Arroz spat out the half-smoked cigarette from his mouth, placed a mask over Tang Fang's face, bent down, hoisted him onto his shoulder, and walked to the corner of the cockpit. With a punch, he hit the button to open the cabin door.

The window slid back, and water rushed into the cockpit under pressure. Arroz took a deep breath, kicked off with his toes, and swam sideways out of the craft. Housen followed suit, closely trailing behind as they raced toward the shimmering surface above.

...

Planet Krotan, the small town of Nablanca. The afternoon sunlight in early summer felt like a lover's caress, making everyone feel lazy and drowsy.

Under the billboard leading eastward to Mond City, two figures walked one after another.

No, actually, there were three people. The middle-aged man walking ahead had another person slung over his left shoulder, seemingly unconscious.

"Arroz, don’t forget your promise," Housen said, glancing at the seductive “Galactic Siren” on the billboard. His eyes gleamed with hunger, like a refugee who hadn’t eaten for seven days suddenly spotting a juicy steak.

Arroz adjusted Tang Fang’s weight on his shoulder to ease the ache. He wasn’t bothered by Housen’s taunts. Tang Fang’s current condition was peculiar; they needed a place to rest and possibly a doctor to examine him.

Half a kilometer wasn’t too far or too near. By the time they reached the entrance of the town under the scorching sun, they were parched and dizzy.

Arroz shielded his eyes with his hand and looked around. The town wasn’t large; the main street stretched just over a thousand meters from east to west. It was the afternoon, and the streets were deserted. Even the shops on both sides were displaying signs that read “CLOSED.”

The only places open were a public restroom at the corner of the street and a bar called "Blue Lake" in the center.

Arroz frowned. This seemingly ordinary scene gave him an indescribable sense of oppression, as if something unsettling lurked beneath the calm surface of the town.

"Housen, aren’t you always boasting about your keen intuition? Anything unusual?" Arroz pointed at the empty street and asked.

Housen rubbed his neck and shrugged. "Ever since we came out of the ruins, I’ve stopped believing in that nonsense." He glanced at the "Blue Lake" bar and sneered, "Arroz, are you trying to skip out on the bill?"

"Skip out on the bill?" Arroz raised an eyebrow. "I’m not desperate enough to play tricks over a drink or two."

"Then what are you waiting for?" Housen threw the words over his shoulder and headed toward the "Blue Lake" bar. Though they lacked their armor and their combat abilities were reduced, this was just a small town. What could possibly go wrong? Even in a brawl, Housen never backed down. And if they encountered any armed robbers, with his and Arroz’s skills, they’d ensure the attackers regretted their decision. Besides, they were short on cash. If some fool walked right into their hands, robbing them wouldn’t be a bad option.

Arroz hesitated briefly, glanced at Tang Fang on his shoulder, steeled his resolve, and followed quickly.

The "Blue Lake" bar had existed since the town was founded, over sixty years ago. The owners had changed multiple times, but the name remained unchanged, echoing the longevity of the nearby Blue Lake, known for its lush grass and abundant fish.

Arroz pushed open the door without hesitation. Inside, it was dim and cold, as if stepping from a furnace into an icebox. The room was thick with smoke, mingling with the smell of sweat and body odor, swirling like clouds in the air. It reminded him of changing the air in his "marine armor"—yes, exactly that smell, perhaps even stronger.

Squinting, he scanned the left side where the blinds were drawn. A few men sat boldly at a scarred metal table. On the right, several shirtless men lounged with boots exuding a whiff of gunpowder.

The only light came from a decrepit decorative lamp hanging over the bar, casting a dim glow akin to the weary bartender’s tired eyes.

Housen didn’t bother looking at their faces. He strode directly to a stool at the bar and pointed at a bottle of tequila on the rack. "No ice."

At that moment, Arroz entered carrying Tang Fang on his shoulder. His gaze swept across the hall, meeting the cold stares of twenty or so burly men. His pupils contracted. The atmosphere in the room was eerie, oppressive, and filled with hostility, as if a pack of territorial wolves had been invaded by unwelcome intruders.

He shifted his gaze to Housen at the bar, who seemed oblivious, his eyes glued to the white liquid being poured into a small glass.

"8 MYD," the elderly bartender said, placing the glass in front of him and leaning forward. His cloudy eyes scrutinized the unfamiliar face.

"Tch, what kind of stupid rule is this?" Housen wrinkled his brow, turning to glance at Arroz, who stood at the door lost in thought. Impatiently tapping the counter, he called out, "Arroz, pay the bill!"

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