The pale golden screen flickered across his retina.
Before the words [Rapid Firearm Maintenance] had even faded, Rod’s hands were already moving.
He grabbed the mud-stained magazine, slammed it hard against his flak armor to shake off the sludge, then shoved it into the feed port.
Click.
The sound of a round chambering was especially crisp amid the chaotic rain.
Rod took a deep breath.
His lungs filled with the bitter stink of gunpowder and wet earth.
He raised the gun above his head again.
This time, however, his arms were no longer as stiff and shaky as before.
Rat-tat-tat!
A foot-long tongue of flame spat from the muzzle, tearing several bright trails through the gray curtain of rain.
This time, Rod kept his eyes fixed on the pale golden panel.
[Autogun Shooting LV1]
[Experience: 3/50]
It really works!
As long as I use the skill, I can gain experience!
Rod’s mouth split into an uncontrollable grin, revealing a row of white teeth.
His finger on the trigger began tightening and relaxing in rhythm, controlling the bursts to around three rounds each.
The grip slammed against his palm, but the recoil that had tried to lift the muzzle into the sky seemed to be smoothed out little by little by some invisible force.
Outside the trench, dozens of meters away.
Several Orks that had just jumped into a shell crater and were preparing to charge were suddenly pinned down by dense gunfire.
Bullets struck their crude metal shoulder plates, scattering dazzling sparks.
One stray round even scraped across an Ork’s cheek, kicking up a spray of red blood mist.
“WAAAGH!!”
The Ork roared furiously, waving the crude choppa in its hand as it tried to force its way through the fire.
Rod ignored it completely.
In his eyes, there was only the rapidly rising progress bar.
[Skill Level Up!]
[Autogun Shooting LV2]
[Experience: 0/100]
The instant it leveled up, a mysterious sensation flowed from his arms through his entire body.
The autogun in his hands seemed to become an extension of his arms.
The muzzle’s jumping was no longer a chaotic tremor, but a rhythmic motion that rose and fell with his breathing.
That feeling…
It was as if this gun had suddenly gained a machine spirit and was actively cooperating with his intent, guiding the muzzle toward the enemy’s head.
This handling feels as steady as turning on a mouse macro!
Rod roared inwardly, but his trigger finger was as steady as a vise.
The second magazine ran dry.
He skillfully pressed the release.
The empty magazine dropped to the ground and splashed into the water while his left hand had already drawn a third magazine, sliding it in with smooth precision.
Gunfire rang out again.
A sharp, piercing scream came from beyond the trench.
“Screech!”
Through a gap at the edge of the trench, Rod saw a Gretchin only half a man tall, clutching a crude grenade.
Its head burst open like a rotten watermelon smashed by a hammer.
The headless corpse swayed twice, then toppled into the mud.
The grenade rolled aside and exploded, throwing up a wave of sludge.
[Killed Gretchin]
[Experience +5]
[Killed one enemy with blind fire within 5 minutes]
[Acquired Trait: Solid Round Blind Fire]
[Effect: When performing blind fire, grants a 5% chance to ignore environmental factors and directly hit the enemy]
[Autogun Shooting Experience +50]
[Current Experience: 60/100]
The chain of notifications almost blinded Rod.
Before he could recover from the surprise, the Gretchin’s scream became a signal.
The atmosphere inside the trench, which had been crushed by the Orks’ roars and sinking morale, began to change.
The trembling recruits huddled in the corners, as well as the veteran slackers who had only been firing by faith, all stopped what they were doing and looked toward Rod in astonishment.
In this mud pit where they had only been passively taking hits, this was the first confirmed kill.
And it had been blind fire without even looking.
“This kid…”
A stubbled veteran beside him muttered.
His lasgun, which had originally been waving wildly over his head, lowered slightly.
Even the muzzle became steadier.
After all, no one wanted to be outdone by a fresh recruit.
Rod had no time to care about the looks around him.
He felt as if he had entered a state known as “farming mobs.”
If not now, then when?
He swapped in another magazine.
Rat-tat-tat!
Rat-tat-tat!
With the blessing of [Solid Round Blind Fire], that mysterious 5% probability began to show its power.
Even though the muzzle was only roughly pointed forward, the bullets seemed to have eyes.
Two Gretchin trying to flank them had their heads blown apart on the spot.
Immediately after, an Ork Boy poked its head out.
The moment half of its green bald skull appeared, three bullets struck its face in succession.
Its massive body toppled backward and crashed heavily into the mud.
[Killed Gretchin x2]
[Killed Ork Boy x1]
[Killed…]
[Autogun Shooting LV3]
[Experience: 35/200]
As the skill surged to LV3, Rod felt the autogun in his hands become as light as a toy.
The recoil was almost negligible.
He could even spare a little attention to predict the Greenskins’ movements.
Across this defense line dozens of meters long, the section of trench Rod occupied had actually managed to halt the Ork charge through his firepower alone.
A clear dent appeared in the green tide before him.
Click.
The sound of the bolt locking open rang out again.
Rod instinctively reached for the magazine pouch at his waist.
He grabbed nothing.
That satisfying burst of firing just now had emptied his last bit of ammunition.
The moment the firepower stopped, the heart-palpitating pressure outside instantly surged back.
“WAAAAAGH!!!”
Heavy footsteps stomped through the mud, drawing closer and closer, as if they would leap into the trench in the next second.
I’m dead, I’m dead!
How am I supposed to fight without bullets?!
Cold sweat poured down Rod’s back.
He was about to draw the serrated combat knife for close combat.
Suddenly, a heavy field pack slammed into the mud beside his feet with a clang.
Immediately after, a rough hand slapped heavily against his shoulder armor.
“Good work, recruit!
The Emperor is watching you!”
Platoon Leader Karl’s iconic booming voice exploded beside his ear.
His face was covered in grease and mud, and the scar over his left eye twisted with his excited expression.
“That marksmanship of yours!
It’s like you’re sleeping with the autogun’s machine spirit!”
As the platoon leader roared, he quickly tore open the field pack, revealing rows of neatly packed magazines inside.
“You must be blessed by the God-Emperor, kid!”
The surrounding veterans also gathered around.
Although they did not say anything, the contempt in their eyes when they looked at Rod had lessened, replaced by a bit more respect for the strong.
Or perhaps envy toward someone “watched by the God-Emperor.”
“Don’t just stand there!
Hit them hard!
Send those Greenskin bastards back where they came from!”
Platoon Leader Karl grabbed a handful of magazines and shoved them into Rod’s arms.
Rod felt the weight settle heavily against his chest.
It was not only the weight of ammunition, but the weight of hope for survival.
Since the platoon leader had placed his hopes on him, he had to hold this wave!
Without another word, he grabbed a magazine, slapped it into the gun, racked the bolt, and pushed the muzzle out again.
Rat-tat-tat!
The familiar rhythm rang out once more.
With enough ammunition, his LV3 Autogun Shooting skill fully erupted.
A dense net of fire once again covered the front of the position.
The Orks that had just been about to charge were beaten into frantic retreat.
Using the gap created by the suppressive fire, Rod gathered his courage and slightly poked his head out, glancing over the sandbags.
With just one look, his heart clenched violently.
At the end of his vision, beneath the gray rain curtain…
There was a green ocean.
Hundreds, perhaps thousands, of Gretchin and Snotlings surged like a tide, mixed with Ork Boyz waving choppas.
And behind them stood an enormous figure.
It was more than two meters tall, covered in thick, crude scrap-metal armor welded with spikes and skull decorations.
In one hand, it carried a double-barreled shoota still belching black smoke.
Its other hand gripped a massive two-handed chainaxe, the blade still dripping with blood.
An Ork Boss.
It seemed to sense Rod’s gaze.
Its small yellow eyes stared straight back through the rain.
That gaze was cruel, savage, and filled with a madness that wanted to tear every living thing apart.
Rod felt his scalp go numb.
A chill shot from his tailbone straight to the top of his skull.
“Holy shit!”
He let out a strange cry and yanked his head back into the trench, pressing his back against the cold, wet trench wall as he gasped for breath.
“What’s wrong?
What did you see?
Is it really worth getting scared like…”
Platoon Leader Karl leaned over in confusion and copied Rod, poking his head up for a glance.
“Holy shit!”
The same cry.
The same motion of pulling his head back.
Platoon Leader Karl’s face turned deathly pale in an instant.
His earlier bravado vanished completely.
“It’s an Ork Boss!
That thing…
that thing has enough strength to arm-wrestle the Emperor’s Angels of Death!”
The platoon leader’s voice was trembling.
It was not cowardice, but the instinctive fear of a mortal facing an enemy that could not be defeated.
When the soldiers around them heard the words “Ork Boss,” the bit of morale they had just raised collapsed like a punctured balloon.
That was a monster that could tear humans apart as easily as slaughtering chickens!
With the flashlight-like lasguns and fireplace-poker autoguns in their hands, how were they supposed to stop it?!
A deathly silence spread through the trench.
Only the roars outside grew closer and closer.
Platoon Leader Karl gritted his teeth.
The muscles at the corners of his eyes twitched violently.
He turned his head and stared at a foxhole cut into the side wall of the trench, covered by camouflage netting.
At that moment, one corner of the camouflage net was lifted by the wind.
In the dim light, a weapon glowing with faint blue radiance lay quietly on an ammunition crate.
Its body was covered in heat-dissipation coils and complex tubing.
A plasma gun.