Otaku Translation: Carrying the Bases of Starcraft C112

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Sure, heavy artillery bombardments were devastating, but imagine surviving amidst hundreds of mini-missiles raining down. That wasn’t just heart-stopping; it was practically superhuman. Compared to that, crossing a battlefield filled with explosions and gunfire must have felt like child’s play for these men.

"Alright, boys," Housen growled, his voice rough and gravelly. Before stepping out of the trench, he jabbed himself with a syringe full of adrenaline. Then, like an enraged bull charging headlong into battle, he lumbered forward toward the front lines with surprising speed despite his bulky frame.

For the first time, Stivie questioned the validity of phrases like "good things come in small packages" or "short but mighty." Watching Housen—the man built like a grizzly bear—move with such ferocity and agility made him think twice. The guy wasn’t just fast; he was lightning quick, sleek as a freshly painted lion sprinting across the savannah.

And Housen wasn’t alone. Twelve others followed right behind him, their movements synchronized, their steps uniform. From afar, they looked like a black tide surging relentlessly forward.

"Huh? A black tide..." Stivie frowned, glancing toward the horizon. Something felt off. The naval bombardment from Loot Bay had stopped.

"Hey, look! The enemy’s artillery has ceased fire!" Kelson exclaimed, noticing the same anomaly. Everyone turned to stare in disbelief. For a support unit to stop firing during an offensive was akin to shooting themselves in the foot.

Grant exchanged confused glances with his teammates. Why had the attacks from the sea suddenly halted?

It wasn’t just them. Ferdinand and his crew were equally baffled. Why had the combined submarine and fleet bombardment stopped without warning? With that mysterious armored squad already breaching their defenses, halting the shelling left their main forces exposed. If the rebel army surged forward now, it would tear apart the iron wall the Sea Falcon Commandos had painstakingly erected, erasing all their hard-earned advantages—and possibly leading to total collapse.

"Damn it, Sapir! What’s going on here? Get in contact with the fleet immediately!"

Sapir didn’t need telling twice. He was already trying, but all he heard over the comms was a deafening electronic buzz, no response whatsoever.

"Boss… boss, I—I can’t reach them."

"What do you mean you can’t reach them? Are you joking, Sapir?"

"Keep trying, damn it—"

Before Ferdinand could finish, chaos erupted. A massive hole blasted open in the corrosion-resistant steel roof above the special treatment workshop. Sparks flew as a marauder descended from the sky, twin electric bolts erupting from his gun barrel. Two charged rounds slammed into Sapir’s powered armor, cracking the chest plate like shattered glass.

For a split second, Sapir froze—a fatal hesitation. Another pair of electric streaks flashed, turning cracks into gaping holes. The kinetic force of the bullets liquefied his internal organs, spraying blood and bone fragments everywhere.

He toppled backward, falling from the steel beam with a sickening thud onto the ground below, kicking up clouds of dust.

"Re—retaliate!" Ferdinand snapped back to reality, swinging his weapon toward the descending marauder while barking orders at the top of his lungs.

But before anyone could react, a grenade trailing silver light zipped through a shattered window, slamming into one of the reinforced steel pillars holding up the roof. It exploded in a blinding flash, shaking the entire structure.

Thor’s Wrath trembled slightly as a spinning bullet grazed the cheek of the lone marauder who dared to infiltrate. A loud bang echoed as the round punched a horn-shaped hole in the ceiling.

Blast after blast. Grenades poured in through the windows, igniting a fiery storm within the 100-meter-wide workshop. Thankfully, the vacuum induction furnace was offline; otherwise, its detonation would’ve wiped out everyone inside.

Even so, the situation wasn’t much better. Rows of grenades detonated throughout the factory floor, sending shockwaves rippling through the air. More marauders dropped from above, their high-powered pistols cutting down commando after commando like reapers harvesting souls.

"Damn it! Where the hell are these bastards coming from? Ferdinand, what the hell are your men doing?"

"S-sir... they—they’re inside... ah!"

"And where’s the naval bombardment? The Northern Sunaru Alliance’s armored division is advancing! If we don’t resume firing, the whole line will collapse!"

"Hercules, forget your grand strategy for once and figure out how to deal with those flying freaks!"

"...”

The comms crackled with overlapping curses and shouts. Ferdinand glanced outside. On the right flank, a squad of marines pressed forward. Directly ahead, three marauders maintained relentless suppressive fire. His heart sank.

What in God’s name were those people on the sea doing? Had they all died? At this rate, those madmen would slowly chew through the entire defensive line. No one could afford to take responsibility for mission failure—not even Aldrich, who may be a scholar but certainly didn’t have a forgiving temperament.

"Command center, command center..."

Static greeted him, sharp and piercing.

"Are those bastards all dead?" Watching twenty-odd of his men being toyed with by three marauders, their lives snuffed out one by one by oversized gauss pistols, Ferdinand felt his sanity slipping away.

A mere six-man team had pinned down over thirty of their elite commandos—and there were only thirty-eight in total. Once they spread out to attack other squads of the Sea Falcon Commandos and coordinated with the rebel vehicle corps, the government forces were looking at a massacre.

Freedom and benevolence were slogans Marion loved to preach to the masses—but not to military prisoners loyal to the empire. Those men never showed mercy.

Especially not Montgomery. He lived by one creed: “Blood debts must be repaid in blood.” Only the crimson lifeblood of enemies could honor the spirits of fallen comrades.

"Requesting immediate backup! Montgomery’s security forces are counterattacking. Our squad is surrounded on both sides. Requesting immediate backup, requesting backup…"

"The inner lines are already under fire?" Ferdinand cursed inwardly. Just when they thought Montgomery’s troops were cornered and limited to passive defense, they launched a counteroffensive. This spelled disaster for the already crumbling military frontline. As Ferdinand scanned the northern horizon, flashes of rocket launchers and grenade launchers illuminated the darkening sky.

Meanwhile, the Northern Sunaru Alliance’s armored units smashed through barricades and rolled over craters, advancing steadily toward the government forces’ defensive line.

"Did everyone on the sea really die? Where’s the artillery support? The anti-vehicle missiles? What happened to ‘We’ll never let a single one of the Northern Sunaru Alliance’s tanks pass’? Did they swallow those words along with their pride?"

Though Ferdinand’s rant was born of frustration, it wasn’t far from the truth. Only instead of swallowing their bold promises, the fleet had swallowed mouthfuls of salty seawater laced with the stench of fish.

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