If anyone has seen this story translated elsewhere, please let me know the title in the comments.
I’d really appreciate it.
Thanks!
Zzt!
Rod did not hesitate for even a microsecond.
The charging steel monster.
The circular saw screaming above his head.
Even if it was about to split his skull open in the next second, his eyes remained locked on its only weak point.
I’ll gamble on this.
If I can’t pierce it, then I’ll blind it!
The suppression lasgun in his hands spat out deadly high-energy beams once more.
The laser continuously burned the thick ballistic-glass vision slit with perfect precision.
At first, there was only a small charred spot on the glass.
Under the sustained heat, that spot rapidly spread.
The ballistic coating and adhesive layers on the glass boiled and carbonized instantly under temperatures of thousands of degrees.
It bubbled, blackened, and then spread like a patch of ink that refused to dissolve, smearing itself across the narrow vision slit.
The light of the indicators shining through the gap disappeared completely.
Only scorched blackness remained.
That’s called physical blinding!
Go blind, you bastard!
Rod’s finger stayed locked on the trigger until the black burn mark had covered every possible viewing angle.
In that instant…
“Screeeeech!!!”
A terrified scream came from inside the giant tin can, like a rat thrown into boiling water.
The Gretchin pilot had completely panicked after losing its vision.
Whoosh!
Clang!
The massive circular saw that had been about to cleave Rod in half lost its aim.
With a shrieking wind, it swept past the tip of Rod’s nose.
Boom!
The saw slammed hard into the trench wall beside Rod.
Mud, stones, and rotten reinforcing timber were instantly churned to pieces, spraying all over Rod like a fountain.
If Rod had leaned even one centimeter to the left just now, his shoulder would have been the thing reduced to shreds.
“Chance!”
Rod scrambled backward two steps, rolling and crawling to open a little distance.
The Killa Kan was still madly waving its circular saw in place, digging into the earth like a deranged construction machine.
Its wide, reckless movements exposed its lower frame.
Rod swung the smoking lasgun behind him, and his right hand drew the heavy bolt pistol at his waist like lightning.
The bolt pistol might not be powerful enough to tear through frontal armor, but those patched-together scrap-metal joints were no Titan-grade plating!
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
The bolt pistol roared like thunder again.
Rod gripped the gun with both hands, enduring the brutal recoil that felt like it might snap his wrists, and fired wildly at the rusty, cobbled-together knee joints of the Killa Kan’s two mechanical legs.
This was the charm of bolt rounds.
Not penetration.
They drilled in, and then…
They exploded.
Boom!
Boom!
Two bursts of fire erupted from the fragile knee joints.
Broken gears and shattered bearings sprayed outward with sparks.
One fragment struck Rod’s chest armor with a sharp clang.
Clack…
creak!
The huge body lost its support.
It had always been a top-heavy heap of junk to begin with.
Now that one leg had been destroyed, the other could not bear that weight alone.
The Killa Kan released a teeth-aching groan of twisting metal.
Then, like a collapsing iron tower…
Thud!
The entire trench shook.
It smashed heavily into the mud, splattering filthy water all over Rod.
Even after falling, the circular saw arm continued swinging wildly in midair, making a strange woo-woo sound.
The Gretchin inside was still screaming hysterically, making the killing machine look like an oversized infant throwing a tantrum on the ground.
This made it even more dangerous.
With that kind of indiscriminate attack, whoever got close would die.
At that moment…
“Catch!
Use this!”
A roar came from behind.
Rod abruptly turned his head.
Platoon Leader Karl had somehow crawled out from a nearby foxhole.
He looked even more ferocious than the Killa Kan now.
Half his face was covered in blood.
His flak armor had already cracked open, revealing the filthy uniform beneath.
But what he held in his hands made Rod’s pupils shrink.
It was a dark-green canvas pack, square and wrapped in oil paper.
That shape.
That texture.
Holy shit…
A satchel charge?!
What the hell is this, a World War II set?
Rod almost wanted to laugh.
In the 41st millennium, where lasers and plasma flew everywhere, there was actually still such an antique-level heavy killer.
But this thing, even after forty thousand years, was still hard currency.
It cured all kinds of stubborn problems.
“Go!
Finish it!
It’s yours!”
Platoon Leader Karl did not waste a word.
He did not even stop running.
He rushed over and shoved the heavy satchel charge into Rod’s arms.
Then, without looking at Rod again, he turned and ran back.
As he ran, he tore off the cumbersome flak armor that was already falling apart.
He threw himself toward the heavy stubber mounted on the trench edge and racked the bolt.
Dakka, dakka, dakka, dakka!
The heavy machine gun roared.
He was buying Rod the last bit of time.
Rod held the satchel charge that smelled of blood.
No thank you.
Saying thank you now would be pretentious.
He glanced at the tin can still rolling around madly on the ground.
For a brat that loves crying and throwing tantrums, let me give you a big firecracker!
Rod’s fingers found the pull-type fuse.
He yanked hard.
Hiss…
shhhh…
That sound.
The sound of burning explosive powder.
In Rod’s mind, those old black-and-white war movies he had watched before flashed by.
Those predecessors charging toward bunkers with satchel charges in hand.
A strange sense of time displacement made him smile bitterly.
Never thought I’d get to play the hero myself one day.
“Go!”
The boost from his Strength attribute showed itself perfectly at this moment.
He did not take any extra run-up.
He simply used the power of his waist and abdomen, swinging his arm in a full arc.
The satchel charge, weighing more than ten pounds, traced a perfect parabola through the air.
Thud.
With a dull sound, the canvas pack landed perfectly on the smoking cockpit hatch of the Killa Kan.
It even bounced once on top of it.
The Gretchin inside seemed to sense something.
Its scream suddenly paused for one second.
Then…
Boom!
An orange-red fireball rose from the ground.
The massive shockwave, carrying a wave of scorching air, pushed Rod backward by two steps.
Countless pieces of sheet metal, screws, gears, and blood mist exploded outward like scattered flowers.
The sturdy cylindrical shell was like a drink can ripped open from the outside by a pair of invisible giant hands.
As for the Gretchin inside?
It was probably already chatting happily with Gork and Mork in the Warp.
Not even a scrap remained in the material world.
[Killed Killa Kan x1.
Experience gained: 100]
[Attribute Increased: Strength LV2]
[Current Experience: 78/100]
Another line of golden text flashed by.
That pleasant sensation of leveling up instantly surged through his entire body.
It was not some golden aura covering him.
It was a very real feeling, as if his muscle fibers had become tighter and his breathing had grown deeper.
The exhaustion that had nearly drained him faded slightly.
The heavy flak armor on his body and the gun in his hands suddenly felt light as nothing.
So this is strength…
Rod clenched his fist, feeling his knuckles crack.
This feeling of becoming stronger was addictive.
But before he could enjoy that addiction enough…
“WAAAAAAAGH!!!”
The familiar war cry did not weaken because of the explosion.
Instead, it grew even denser, like someone had kicked a hornet’s nest.
Rod abruptly looked up beyond the trench.
It was still the same.
Green.
Endless green.
The Ork corpses that had fallen at the front had already been trampled into meat paste by those behind them.
A new wave surged forward again.
Their numbers were even greater than before, denser and more savage.
And beside his feet…
The lasgun ammunition crate was nearly empty.
Only two lonely standard power cells remained inside.
The bolt pistol at his waist.
Last magazine.
Rod did not need to eject the magazine to know from that light feeling that there were at most three or four rounds left.
Not enough.
Nowhere near enough.
This little firepower was not even enough to fill the gaps between their teeth.
“Damn birdman, you really are trying to kill me.”
Rod spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva and gave a bitter laugh.
But there was no despair in his eyes.
“Then come on.”
He shoved the bolt pistol back into its holster and picked up the still-smoking suppression lasgun.
With his other hand, he drew the serrated combat knife from the side of his thigh.
He bit down on the back of the blade, ready to enter melee at any moment.
The cold taste of steel instantly pulled his nerves taut to the limit.
Click.
He loaded the second-to-last power cell.
He set up the gun and lay across sandbags that were now buried under corpses.
And at the front of that green ocean…
Clang!
Clang!
Clang!
The earth trembled.
Another Killa Kan.
This was the last one in this assault force.
But it was also the largest.
It advanced with an extremely arrogant bow-legged stride.
Half an Astra Militarum corpse even hung from each of its huge hydraulic arms as decoration.
It knocked aside Ork Boyz blocking its path and charged straight toward Rod.
When that massive shadow covered the last bit of light and fell over Rod’s head…
Rod could even smell the stench of machine oil and blood coming from it.
Come on!
Just as Rod was about to pull the trigger for one final gamble…
Zzzzt!!!
Without warning…
A thick, blinding laser beam skimmed right over Rod’s head.
Rod even felt his scalp go numb, and his hair curled from the terrifying heat.
That beam carried destructive energy and pierced straight through the cockpit of the charging Killa Kan with unreasonable force.