That’s an Order
19: Chapter 19: Take It!
~~~
After the crowd at the shooting range dispersed, Rod did not rush back to company command.
Like a thief, he followed a row of cover made from discarded track links and slipped into a blind spot behind the range.
Rod cautiously looked left and right.
After making sure no bored Commissar lapdog was patrolling nearby, he reached into his coat and took out the small square box.
Rod swallowed.
This was black technology that even those red-robed freaks of the Adeptus Mechanicus might not understand.
He carefully stuck his index finger inside.
There was none of the resistance he had imagined, nor did he feel the bottom.
A strange sensation came from his fingertip, as if he had reached into some kind of thick but non-sticky cold air.
Growing bolder, Rod inserted his entire hand.
He felt around inside.
About one cubic meter?
And…
the shape doesn’t seem fixed?
To verify his guess, he picked up a half-meter-long piece of Chimera exhaust pipe from the ground nearby, one that had not yet fully rusted through.
He aligned it with the box opening and pushed it in.
The iron pipe, far longer than the box itself, was swallowed without the slightest obstruction or sound.
Awesome!
It really is folded space!
As long as the volume doesn’t exceed the limit, it doesn’t matter if it’s long, round, or flat.
It all fits!
As a proud loot hoarder, Rod declared this an absolute T0 divine artifact.
He searched around again and found an unknown many-legged beetle under a piece of rotten wood.
The thing was about the size of a thumb and was happily gnawing on the rotten wood.
Rod acted quickly, pinching the still-kicking bug between two fingers.
“In you go.
Scout the road for me.”
He stuffed the bug into the box and casually shut the lid.
He waited two seconds.
Then opened it again.
Rod leaned in and looked inside.
He even reached in and fished around.
Gone.
Not even a trace remained.
There was no corpse, nor had it turned into blood or fluid.
That bug had vanished as if it had been tossed into some unknown corner of the Warp.
Only dead objects?
But that did not affect its value.
Rod happily took out the iron pipe he had stuffed inside earlier, then solemnly tucked the box close to his body.
Only after finishing all of this did he pat the dirt from his clothes and walk back in a relaxed mood.
When he returned to the entrance of the company bunker, it was much quieter than before.
Rod found an unobtrusive corner, squatted against the wall, and boredly counted the ants on the ground.
He did not have to wait long.
The heavy blast door slowly opened with the hiss of hydraulic pressure.
Captain Reno, Commissar Warren, and Platoon Leader Karl filed out.
Rod instinctively straightened and even almost saluted by reflex.
But he noticed that the expressions of these three big shots were all very…
calm.
Too calm.
Captain Reno had a lho-stick between his lips.
He did not even glance at Rod, only patted Karl on the shoulder before striding toward the command center.
Commissar Warren pressed down the brim of his cap.
His cold gaze swept across Rod without stopping, and he followed the captain away.
Only Karl remained.
He stood there, seemingly in a daze.
“Platoon leader?”
Rod called out tentatively.
Karl snapped back to himself.
“Oh, it’s you, kid.”
Karl did not say much.
He did not even ask where Rod had gone earlier.
He only jerked his head, signaling for Rod to follow.
The two walked in silence through the muddy camp and arrived near the large medical tent where Rod had rested before.
Karl led Rod to a row of metal lockers in the corner.
Clang.
Karl opened the locker with his name on it, rummaged around inside, and took out a long object wrapped tightly in silver foil.
He turned and tossed it casually toward Rod.
Rod raised a hand and caught it.
“Hold onto it.”
Karl leaned against the locker door.
“This is good stuff.
A high-calorie ration bar…
I think its nickname is something like ‘chocolate.’ I got it during a joint operation from the corpse of a storm trooper…
cough, found it.
Never had the heart to eat it.”
“You can have it.
You’re skinny as a monkey.
Build yourself up.”
Rod lowered his head and looked at the slightly deformed foil package in his hand.
Even before opening it, he could smell a faint scent of cocoa butter.
In this damned place where even corpse-starch had to be eaten with grit mixed in, this thing counted as a top-tier luxury.
Chocolate?
For me?
Did this old bastard take the wrong medicine today?
“Platoon leader, are you okay?”
Rod looked at him suspiciously.
“Is this thing about to expire and you’re trying to find a scapegoat?”
Karl choked on his smoke and coughed twice.
“Get lost!
I’m…
I’m showing concern for my subordinate!
What do you know?”
He waved impatiently.
“Enough nonsense.
Earlier…
the higher-ups gave orders.
We don’t have combat missions for the next few days.
You stay around here.
Don’t run around.
Rest properly.”
At this point, he paused.
His eyes drifted slightly toward the busy landing platform in the distance.
“I need to rest properly too…
These past few days really damn near killed me.”
After saying that, he stepped forward.
His rough hand patted Rod’s head heavily twice, then ruffled Rod’s hair into a chicken nest.
That movement did not feel like a superior addressing a subordinate.
It felt more like an elder brother messing with his troublesome little brother.
“You kid…
You look clueless, but your luck is real.
You really are someone watched by the Emperor.”
Karl looked at Rod and revealed an ugly smile.
“Your future is limitless.”
Rod froze.
Why did those words sound…
so wrong?
Why did it feel like he was giving final instructions?
Wasn’t this just a vacation?
Was there any need to be this sentimental?
Rod could not stand this mushy atmosphere.
Goosebumps rose all over his body.
“Tch.”
He slapped Karl’s hand away in disgust and fixed his hair.
“You’re talking like you’re entrusting your life’s unfinished business to me.
I don’t eat sweets.
They hurt my teeth.
Keep it for yourself and use it to charm those medical Sisters.”
As he spoke, he handed the chocolate back.
This thing was valuable, but Rod was a principled scavenger.
Taking gifts made one beholden, especially this kind of inexplicable kindness.
Accepting it felt like trouble.
However, before his hand could reach over, his wrist was pressed down firmly.
The smile on Karl’s face disappeared.
He stared at Rod.
“Take it!”
“That’s an order.”
Rod felt the strength on his wrist.
Even when facing an Ork Boss, he had never seen the platoon leader this serious.
“Yes, sir.”
Rod shrugged helplessly and pulled his hand back.
Since it was an order, there was nothing he could do.
He pretended to stuff the chocolate into his pocket, but using that motion as cover, he smoothly slipped it into the storage box hidden in his inner pouch.
“There.
Was that so hard?”
Seeing that Rod had accepted it, Karl’s expression eased.
He became that sloppy old veteran again.
“Come on.
Since there’s nothing else to do, I’ll show you around the camp.
You were thrown straight into the trench the moment you arrived.
You probably don’t even know where our company’s front gate is.
Embarrassing.”
Karl walked ahead with his hands behind his back, like a tour guide.
Rod followed behind, listening as the platoon leader rambled about the shabby tents and dirt mounds.
“That over there is the cook squad.
Stay far away from them.
Those bastards cook like they’re feeding pigs, and they cut corners all the time.
If you see them boiling that green paste, do not eat it.
It’s made from Squig meat.
You’ll be shitting for three days.”
“This is the weapons repair shop…
Oh, right.
After Iron Jaw Sergeant died, this place is temporarily under that mad Tech-Priest who likes mixing holy water into machine oil.
If your gun breaks, remember to bring some oil before begging him.”
Rod listened and nodded along.
They passed around an open area piled with ammunition crates and arrived at a corner on the edge of the camp.
Scattered there was a pile of things that looked like industrial waste.
Several burly men with bare upper bodies were grunting as they moved something around.
“What’s this?
A scrapyard?”
Rod pointed at the heap of junk and asked.
“What scrapyard?
This is…
this is our company’s ‘gym’!”
Karl coughed awkwardly.
“Although…
it’s a little crude, it can still be used.”
Rod walked closer and took a look.
Good lord.
The so-called dumbbells were two tank road wheels taken from who knew where, with a steel bar welded between them.
The so-called barbell was even more ridiculous.
It was a rusty long axle with an old oil drum filled with concrete hanging from each end.
The drums even still had skull symbols warning “flammable and explosive.”
The pull-up bar was just two pipes propped up.
The bench press rack was two stones and a plank.
“Fighting a war is already exhausting enough.
Are these guys tired of living?
Looking for ways to suffer when they have free time.”
Karl looked at the sweating soldiers and shook his head, muttering in confusion.
“If they have that much energy, they might as well sleep more.”
But Rod’s eyes lit up.
In his eyes, these were clearly shining [Strength Experience Packs]!
His current [Strength] was only LV2.
It had always been his weak point.
Not enough carrying capacity, unable to wear better gear, too weak in melee, and if he ran into anything tough, he would kneel immediately.
Earlier in the trench, he had no conditions to train.
Now that he had found this free grinding spot…
This was the sacred land he had dreamed of!
Rod felt his arms already starting to ache in anticipation.
“Platoon leader, I think you’re wrong.”
Rod rolled up his sleeves with a righteous expression.
“For the Emperor, we must keep ourselves in peak condition at all times!
This kind of tempering is the proof of will!”
After saying that, without waiting for Karl to react, he charged straight toward the most terrifying-looking oil drum barbell.
“Hey?
You kid…”
Karl was just about to tell him not to show off.
That thing had to weigh at least eighty kilograms.
But the next second, he swallowed his words.
“Hah!”
Rod held his breath, veins bulging on his neck.
Although his form was a little poor, he actually forced the heavy barbell off the ground.
“Up!”
With a heavy breath, the barbell was lifted above his head.
It was difficult.
His arms were trembling, but he stabilized it.
[Strength Experience +2]
The system notification rang out like heavenly music.
Rod’s grin stretched almost to his ears.
“One!
Two!
Three!”
He lowered it, lifted it, then lowered it again.
Even when sweat instantly soaked through his uniform and flowed painfully into his eyes, he did not care at all.
As long as he could watch that experience bar climb one segment at a time, the soreness in his body was the best reward.
Karl stood to the side, watching that young figure sweating profusely and tirelessly pushing himself.
His gaze gradually became a little distant.
Once upon a time, he had been like this too.
He had believed that as long as he trained his skills well, he could protect the comrades beside him and…
survive.
But later, the brothers around him changed again and again.
He also changed from that hot-blooded recruit into this scar-covered old fox who only knew how to calculate how to survive one more day.
This kid…
really is too much like my old self.
I only hope his luck is a little better than mine.
The faint smile in Karl’s eyes slowly faded, and the loneliness he had deliberately suppressed began to surface.
This is fine.
As long as this kid stays here training and doesn’t think about anything else…
he should miss that time.
That mission…
It’s enough for us old bones to fill that hole.
“Train, then.
Train hard.”
Karl said softly, his voice drowned out by the clang of metal.
He took one last deep look at the back of the young man still wrestling with the oil drum.
Then he silently turned around.
No farewell.
No extra words.
With his hands behind his back, he quietly left this “gym” full of life and sweat, walking toward the darker assembly area in the distance.
Two days later.
That place would become the entrance to hell.
And there, there would be no place for Rod.