episode_0003

I endured a full half-day in the chilling darkness of the abandoned mining base.

The recovery team from the Chronos Mercenary Corps, who finally arrived, felt like saviors.

My tattered Bugbear was hoisted by a heavy crane and transferred into the recovery transport vessel, and I had to return to the base, fully aware of the complex gazes from the other mercenaries.

“You survived alone? A rookie who hasn’t even been here a month?”

“Is he a spy for the pirates?”

As soon as I arrived at the base, Sergeant Bulldog’s summons came through the comms.

It was as expected. I swallowed dryly and opened his office door.

“Sit, Cog7.”

His voice was two tones lower and more threatening than usual.

I silently sat on the cheap chair in front of him, its seat worn.

As I leaned back against the rest, the creaking sound was particularly loud.

“I’ve heard the report.”

Bulldog finally spoke.

“Alright, now explain it yourself. That junk heap of yours looks like it was thrown into a hellfire pit twice and barely crawled out. But the pilot is perfectly fine without a single scratch? And you even took down six veteran pirates by yourself? Do you think this makes sense, rookie?”

As expected, he didn’t believe it. No, he didn’t want to believe it. He was a stubborn old-timer who refused to acknowledge variables outside his control.

But if I made flimsy excuses or faltered here, his suspicion would only solidify into conviction.

This world—at least this mercenary world I was a part of—respected results.

No matter how miraculous or illogical the process, I decided to stake everything on that one sliver of possibility.

“It’s exactly as reported. I was ambushed, and to survive, I just smashed and evaded everything that came my way. My comrades were unlucky. I was lucky. That’s all. Were you expecting some grand secret?”

I answered, looking straight into Bulldog’s eyes.

I deliberately infused my voice with extreme weariness, a hint of irritation, and the annoyance of someone thinking, ‘What more is there to ask now?’

“Luck?”

Bulldog scoffed, as if dumbfounded.

His eyes were still filled with suspicion.

“You take down six veteran pirates with just luck? Cog7, how long have you been here for you to already be so bold?”

His suspicious gaze thoroughly scanned me.

As if trying to find a hidden weapon hidden somewhere in my combat uniform, or trying to read evidence of lies from my pupils, he probed relentlessly.

“Because of your ‘luck,’ Chronos lost three mechs and three pilots. But you returned completely unharmed? Didn’t you use some special trick? Or did you have some other objective from the start?”

But I didn’t back down. Instead, I leaned back a little further in the chair and countered, feigning composure.

“Special trick? What special trick could I use with this junk Bugbear?”

I tapped the ‘Cog7’ mark on my shoulder with my finger.

“I just went on the mission as you ordered, and I just came back alive. Aren’t the mercenary corps’ iron rules simple? First, survive. Second, complete the mission. Third, receive fair compensation.”

I counted off on my fingers as I spoke.

“What more do I need to prove? Are you coveting the bonus I’m supposed to receive?”

My last words were a clear provocation.

Bulldog’s face flushed crimson.

He clenched his fists as if he would kick up the desk and grab me by the collar at any moment, but soon let out a harsh exhale and suppressed his anger.

Because nothing I said was wrong. It was a place where results trumped the process.

That was the mercenary world, and he knew that fact better than anyone.

“…Alright.”

Bulldog, finally seeming to give up, reluctantly pulled two credit chips from the drawer and tossed them onto the desk in front of me.

The chips skittered across the desk with a sharp clatter.

“Here’s your compensation. Base mission payment 2000, special performance bonus 3000. Total 5000 credits. Verify it yourself and get out of my sight!”

I picked up the chips and scanned them with my personal terminal.

[+5000CR].[Total Credits:8350CR].

The cold, clear numbers appeared on my retinal HUD.

This wasn’t the me from a few days ago, who was struggling over a mere 350 credits. My heart quickened slightly.

“Confirmed.”

“Then get out now! I don’t want to see your face for a while!”

Bulldog nervously waved his hand.

I shrugged lightly, stood up, and exited the office. Before closing the door, I caught a glimpse of his complex expression.

I left the office and headed straight for the hangar.

My Bugbear stood in a wretched state in one corner of the hangar, in the darkest spot.

Shell marks and beam scorch marks were stark, and in several places, the armor was completely torn away, hideously exposing the internal frame.

The laser rifle on its right shoulder was a mere remnant, and the muzzle of its left vulcan cannon was also crumpled.

I stood in front of the Bugbear and briefly gazed at its horrific state.

Paradoxically, I felt a sense of attachment.

Because if it wasn’t for this junk heap, I wouldn’t be here now.

Alright, now I’ll make you more capable.

First, I’ll repair the damaged armor and locomotion system, and with the remaining money, buy parts that would help in close combat…

Just then, a new system window appeared in a corner of my vision.

[Condition Met: First battle completed and sufficient credits obtained]

[System Function Unlocked: Shop]

Shop? I blinked. Was this truly the shop function from the game? Categories like [Weapons], [Armor], [Locomotion System], [Sensors], [Special Parts], [Consumables] appeared in the translucent window.

Upon touching it, the list and prices for each part appeared.

Starting with basic Bugbear parts, I saw decent-looking used laser rifles, old model missile pods, and more.

But my gaze drifted elsewhere.

In the [Armor] category, there was a reinforced titanium alloy set that could replace the entire body, but the price exceeded 10,000 credits. It was a pie in the sky [an unobtainable desire].

In the [Weapons] category, there were melee weapons like plasma swords and vibro-axes, but it seemed difficult to properly operate them with my Bugbear’s current output.

Moreover, the price was substantial.

Ultimately, I had only one choice: the [Special Parts] category.

[Item: Small Reactor Booster (Grade C)]

[Effect: Temporarily boosts reactor output, increases mobility and energy weapon efficiency]

[Penalty: Increased risk of reactor damage during overload]

[Price: 4500CR]

The ‘Movement Flow’ skill is powerful, but its energy consumption is extreme.

With this booster, I would be able to operate the skill much more stably.

It could replenish the energy consumed during skill use and enhance mobility itself, maximizing the skill’s effect.

4500 credits. I would have to pour most of my total assets into it, but it was well worth the price.

With the remaining credits, if I replaced some of the damaged armor and a few core locomotion system parts, yes, it wouldn’t be perfect, but it could become immeasurably stronger than before.

‘Alright, this is it.’

It was just as I was about to press the purchase button.

*Whirrrrrr-! Beep-beep-beep-!*

A blaring alarm echoed throughout the hangar, and red emergency lights began to flash.

“Wha—what is it? An enemy attack?”

A mechanic dropped his spanner and shouted.

“No, that sound… Surely not! Impossible!”

A mercenary, who seemed familiar with mech maintenance, mumbled, his face pale.

“Outside! Look through the window! My god… what is that silver light?”

The mercenaries and maintenance crew in the hangar stirred, rushing outside or crowding by the windows.

The murmuring grew louder.

I, too, was startled, closed the shop window, and ran towards the hangar entrance.

That engine sound, somehow, it felt familiar. It was like the sound I’d heard in the game.

And I saw it. And everyone in the hangar watched, mesmerized.

Above the dusty landing pad of the Chronos Mercenary Corps, a brilliantly gleaming silver-white mech was silently descending like a celestial being.

Its elegant, curved design, appearing even smoother than titanium alloy, and the blue energy lines embedded across its body, glowed subtly like a living creature.

The mech’s size was similar to a typical medium-sized mech, but the overwhelming presence and technological disparity it exuded were worlds apart.

“Th-that’s… Icarus Technology’s…!”

“Silvera! That’s Yuna’s mech!”

A mercenary cried out almost like a shriek.

His voice trembled with awe and disbelief.

“My goodness, it’s really Silvera! I’ve only seen it in photos or videos… but the real thing is a complete work of art!”

“If I stand next to it, my Bugbear will just look like a scrap metal can… No, it already is a scrap metal can.”

A self-deprecating laugh was heard.

“Then in the cockpit… is it really the ‘Silver Witch’ Yuna piloting it?”

“Silver Witch Yuna! Why is she at a mercenary base like this in the boonies? Is this a dream?”

“Could it be a scout offer? Jackpot! For whom? Surely not me? I washed my car yesterday!”

Someone, harboring delusional hopes, patted their head.

The surrounding mercenaries whispered, filled with excitement, awe, and a bit of baseless hope.

Their reaction was natural.

‘Silvera’ and its pilot, ‘Silver Witch Yuna,’ were living legends in the mercenary world within the game.

Overwhelming skill, outstanding beauty, and an aura of veiled mysticism.

A moment later, Silvera’s cockpit hatch opened silently, and a figure clad in a white pilot suit emerged.

Silver-white hair swayed below her shoulders, her flawless white skin felt unreal, and the perfectly fitting white suit fully revealed her perfect figure.

It was exactly as I had seen in the game.

“Wow… she’s truly a goddess…”

Someone mumbled, mesmerized.

“Is that a person, or an android created by a corporation? She’s too perfect!”

Yuna ignored the gazes mixed with admiration, awe, and secret desire pouring onto her, as if they didn’t exist.

Her gaze swept through the crowd like a search radar looking for a target.

And finally, it met mine, frozen at the hangar entrance.

“It’s you. Cog7.”