Otaku Translation: Carrying the Bases of Starcraft C203

Please support the translation by reading the translation and commenting on otakutl official site.

Thank you.

Everyone from Otaku Translation

Chapter 203: Old Friends

"Not leading to the control center?" The group exchanged puzzled glances. "Then where does it go?"

With no other choice, Tang Fang recounted the information he had gleaned from the psionic flame at the entrance. It turned out that the "rudder-like" structure with numerous portholes wasn’t the central command hub they’d imagined. Instead, it housed auxiliary facilities like internal climate control modules, a docking bay for small aircraft, and an observation deck.

"No wonder," said, nodding sagely as if he'd known all along. He stroked his chin in mock profundity. "I thought that door felt too cramped for something important. Guess I was right—it's just a backdoor."

Tang Fang shrugged. "Not even a backdoor. More like a side entrance."

Walton sighed deeply, frustration etched across his face. "All this effort, nearly losing our lives... and we took the wrong path." He paused, then asked, "So what do we do now?"

"Don't worry," Tang Fang replied calmly. "There should be an elevator platform ahead. We can take it down into the outer ring of the ruins. That's where the control center is located."

"Oh." Walton nodded silently and fell back into contemplation.

The group pressed onward. Ten minutes later, the narrow corridor opened up to reveal a massive rune-inscribed gate. Before they could approach, the doors slid open automatically, revealing a rectangular room beyond. It looked part factory, part exhibition hall—sterile, industrial, and eerily quiet.

The cavernous space stretched nearly two kilometers in length and spanned almost a hundred meters in width. Along both walls ran rows upon rows of machinery resembling assembly lines: welding torches, robotic arms, drilling rigs, conveyor belts, hydraulic tubes transporting fluids, glowing control panels, touch-sensitive interfaces—all humming faintly under the dim light.

But none of these caught Tang Fang’s attention quite like the objects displayed on the pedestals in the center of the room. To him, Arroz, and Housen, these weren’t mere artifacts—they were old acquaintances.

Yes, there stood the very same statue guards that had nearly wiped them out on .

"Be careful!" Housen shouted before Tang Fang could say a word. His voice cracked slightly, betraying his nerves. If not for the saving their lives back then, Housen would have been dead long ago. As the saying goes, once bitten by a snake, you're afraid of ropes for ten years. At the sight of their so-called “old friends,” his hands trembled involuntarily, raising his weapon high.

glanced between the twin rows of statues stretching toward the far end of the room and snickered at Housen's reaction. But before he could make some cutting remark, even the usually composed Arroz mirrored Housen’s actions, lifting his and aiming squarely at the chest of one of the motionless statues.

"What’s gotten into those two? They’re just stone sculptures," Churchill muttered, bewildered.

He wasn’t alone in his confusion. Claire and Walton exchanged equally baffled looks, unsure how to process the sudden tension.

Unlike the others, the three newcomers hadn’t experienced the horrors of Planet Namie. They didn’t know about the statue guards’ terrifying arsenal: high-frequency weapons, teleportation abilities, , and near-impenetrable defenses. Underestimating them came at a steep cost—one that often ended in death.

Tang Fang’s expression hardened as he rested his finger on the trigger of his own C-14. Sparks crackled around the barrel, ready to fire. The intel from the psionic core had only mentioned an assembly line at the end of the corridor—but it hadn’t specified what was being assembled here.

If he’d known this place churned out statue guards, he’d have gladly searched for another route. Talk about running into bad luck again.

As if confirming his thoughts, a low hum filled the air. Faint blue lights flickered within the gaps of the statues’ armored scales. Then, as one, their eyes snapped open, emitting piercing beams of violet light.

The dormant statues were waking—not just one or two, but nearly a hundred of them, lined up neatly in two rows spanning the entire length of the colossal chamber. Their violet gazes mingled with the pale blue glow cascading from the ceiling, casting an otherworldly aura over the scene.

"Fall back! Get out of the room!" Tang Fang barked. Instantly, a materialized beside him, followed by nearly a hundred . Though the room seemed vast, against such overwhelming numbers, it might as well have been a broom closet. Heavy units like queens or tanks wouldn’t stand a chance here, and smaller units like or would crumble instantly. Only had any hope of holding their ground. Meanwhile, the Sentry’s role was clear—to block those guards using force fields.

After all, the statues possessed absurd teleportation skills. If they decided to go straight for the leader, Tang Fang doubted he’d survive more than a few seconds against nearly a hundred foes.

True enough, his sharp command drew the attention of the first pair of statues. Their heavy eyelids twitched ever so slightly, and four beams of violet locked onto him.

Tang Fang wasted no time retreating while simultaneously ordering the Zealots forward as a shield wall. With his free hand, he steadied his C-14, channeling every ounce of energy into charging the metallic spike in its chamber, aiming directly at the heart of one of the statues.

But the shot never fired.

Just as his finger began to squeeze the trigger, the oppressive aura of hostility vanished without a trace—as though it had never existed. The statues’ blue glows faded, and the violet light in their eyes dimmed until they returned to their inert state.

"This..." Tang Fang frowned, confused. He vaguely remembered catching a fleeting glimpse of the statues’ gaze sweeping past his forehead during the shift in atmosphere.

Meanwhile, Claire and the others stared at each other, equally bewildered by the abrupt change in events.

"Is there something on my forehead?" Tang Fang turned to ask.

"Three, it’s number three!" Churchill blurted loudly, pointing dramatically. Beside him, Walton wore a look of sheer terror.

"That’s not three, you idiot! That’s the —a golden rune!" Housen mocked, rolling his eyes.

Churchill flushed red. "Can’t blame me for reading it upside-down! Mind your own damn business!"

"You little punk, I oughta blast your sorry ass into next week!" Housen growled, stepping menacingly closer.

"Hmph." Churchill sneered but hesitated mid-retort. Suddenly, his expression softened, morphing into exaggerated fear. Hands clasped dramatically over his chest, he pleaded, "Oh mighty Housen, please spare me! Have mercy! I’ve got elders depending on me, kids to feed, and a bedridden wife waiting at home. If I die, my whole family perishes!"

His voice dripped with theatrical sorrow, his face contorted in mock despair. Anyone listening might have shed a tear—if not for the fact that Churchill looked less like a grieving husband and more like a rhinoceros trying to pass off sour tofu as gourmet cuisine.

Please vote for this novel at

https://www.novelupdates.com/series/carrying-the-bases-of-starcraft/

If you would like to support this translation, you may choose any one of the options below.

Tier 1: 10 Advance chapters

Access fee $3.00 Monthly