The Genius Mecha Pilot Wants to Survive - Chapter 05

Giant Mud (2)

The radio is a chaotic mess of commands from headquarters and the field. Since it used a powerful wide-area pattern, it takes time to gather the energy for an attack of that magnitude. Now is the time for a concentrated attack.

-Surround it!

-Circle around and draw its aggro.

-Need support in the rear! Looks like we’re about to be breached.

-H-help me…!

-Pour everything you’ve got into it, mortars, whatever!

It’s a monster that can only be taken down if everyone, not just the Titans but the infantry as well, rushes it. The problem is that the main force we breached during our charge is chasing after us, so we need troops to hold them off too. If the rear gets breached, we’ll be sandwiched between the Giant Mud and the main force, and we’re absolutely done for.

In the end, the troops fighting the Giant Mud had no choice but to move little by little, avoiding the enemies coming from the rear. Instinctively, they headed for the only place that could offer safe cover.

Ironically, that place was one of the enemy’s production buildings. The massive biological building where the Giant Mud had emerged from. If more troops came out of here, it would truly be the end, but fortunately, the nest had poured all its resources into the Giant Mud and wasn’t producing anything else.

If we die, they’ll probably use our corpses to restart production.

We dodged the bombardment behind the production base, then popped out to the side to attack when it quieted down. As soon as we went through this pattern once or twice, the Giant Mud started moving toward the building.

-Disengage! Run!

Commands ring out chaotically. I was avoiding it without cover and wasn’t near the building, but I can see the troops behind the building wavering.

And then I saw the building. Not a high-angle launch like a ski jump, but a building that curved up like a coin graph and ended vertically.

‘Huh…?’

Could it work? No, that angle doesn’t make any sense, does it?

Still, it’s the only option, isn’t it? But no matter how I look at it, it seems like I’d just go straight up and fall right back down.

Complex thoughts clouded my mind. Then, I finished a rough calculation and grabbed the radio.

“Don’t run! Hold your position there as long as you can!”

-What the…?

“That’s the only way we can take it down! Just keep it near the building at that angle!”

Urgent radio calls. The ground shaking from explosions in the distance. The roar of artillery pounding my eardrums despite the distance.

In the midst of this madness, Lieutenant Colonel Ledain stared blankly at the battlefield. It was a sight that would disqualify him as a commander.

But he, too, is just a person. An ordinary person who, when seeing something absurd, ends up staring blankly without realizing it.

A rain of artillery fell on the main force. Fortunately, they were already dispersed, and some troops had managed to disengage beforehand, but the troops in the center all died.

That’s normal. That’s what an artillery barrage pattern is. Infantry have no choice but to lie on the ground and pray to the heavens. They have no choice but to use boosters to get the Titans to the outskirts as much as possible and hope the machine holds up. It’s essentially no different from rolling dice.

Of course, there are those who survive. Augmented soldiers above a certain level can survive by dodging or blocking through their abilities.

Even a 3rd generation Titan, if modified for defense, could somehow manage to hunker down and survive. Or disengage with faster mobility.

But the Colonel saw it. Evasion, not disengagement. Without a small body or high speed to reduce the probability of being hit. He saw a 3rd generation Titan with a huge, heavy frame dodging.

‘Is that possible?’

Moving a few steps at a time to dodge. He had never heard of or seen this before. He couldn’t believe it even with his own eyes. If he told anyone, they’d just tell him to stop drinking so much.

But the situation is bad. No matter how much that pilot, Mitchell, flies and crawls, the 3rd generation Titan’s attack power isn’t enough to take down the Giant Mud.

-Don’t run! Hold your position there as long as you can!

That’s when Mitchell’s voice came through. It’s a dangerous command(?). Telling them to group up in response to artillery? Grouping up is only effective if you have energy-based defensive equipment, and his troops didn’t have that.

‘But…’

But if it’s that absurd pilot, maybe he’ll do something? He had received a lot of training as an officer and had been deployed in actual combat, but he couldn’t imagine a plan to take down the giant mud. Then wouldn’t it be better to place his expectations on the one who showed equally unimaginable behavior?

Knowing he was disqualified as an officer, he hurriedly grabbed the radio and shouted.

“Listen to him! Everyone, hold your positions!”

For some reason, the commander’s permission was granted. The approaching Giant Mud and the troops preparing for their final moments.

Now, everything on this battlefield truly depends on my judgment, on my hands.

Honestly, I still don’t know if this will work or not. Because things like this didn’t work in the game.

But since it’s become reality, and it’s realistic enough that I ended up in this mess just because I was bad at the damn standing shooting, I have no choice but to hope it works.

Weight, propulsion, angle, kinetic energy. I don’t know how to calculate that crap. I don’t even know the exact numbers, actually.

It’s just a feeling that this is the only way. Maybe I’m stupid, but I really can’t think of any other solution.

‘If it doesn’t work, well, f*ck, I die.’

I push the lever forward until it bends.

It’ll work, right? It will. Will it?

Anxiety and resignation coexist, and I think I have to do something.

Production bases are usually thin, like a coin graph where the outer wall rises vertically. Small and medium-sized troops come out of entrances opened in various directions on those outer walls. When air and large units are produced, the top opens up like a flower bud.

I run toward a part of the petal and aim at the area connecting that petal to the others. Missiles, plasma cannons, lasers. And even the magazines. I pour all my firepower into it while running.

Some of the tendons connecting the petals snap, and some lose their tension and sag. The thick ones must have lost strength too, having been riddled with holes.

And all my heavy weapons are finished now. My Titan is no longer a bipedal combat weapon, just a bipedal robot.

There’s really no turning back now. I climb onto the base, run, and then just rely on my gut to use the boosters.

I have no idea if this timing is right. I just consider the maximum duration of the boosters and press down hard.

Kwooooong! Along with the vibration, my vision is pushed back rapidly.

Please let me fly. Please let this succeed.

Even though I don’t believe in any god, I just pray to somewhere.

If I fail… then I pray that I’d rather fly straight up and fall to my death. Because if I go up like this and run out of power, and just slide back down, it would be really embarrassing, so please.

I overclock the engine and use the boosters. The angle that was facing forward gradually rises, becoming almost vertical.

Puh-ung! Smoke shoots out from behind, as if the engine exploded. The speed doesn’t decrease. Fortunately, it didn’t look like I’d die of embarrassment.

And it’s going just as I thought. The runway, with its reduced holding power due to the weakened tendons, can’t support the Titan’s weight and gradually lowers its angle again.

And finally, takeoff.

‘I’m flying, I’m flying…!’

Being in the cockpit, I don’t feel like my feet are floating or anything. It doesn’t feel like much, just like when a plane takes off. But the Kilug building disappeared from my view, and only the blue sky was visible.

Looking at the angle, it seemed like I could just pass the Giant Mud like this.

But the heavy fuselage doesn’t have that kind of power. The screen that was reflecting the blue sky goes down, and soon the Giant Mud’s massive body is visible at a glance.

The round spherical core, which is also its eyeball, looks up at me. Has it ever looked up at anyone before?

‘Probably not, it was born today.’

Hoping this will be the first and last time, I eject the blade from my right wrist.

I grab the blade with my left hand. I’m worried that the blade might break if it can’t support the weight before I break the core. Grabbing it with my left hand might be dangerous, though.

‘It’s not my hand anyway.’

And like hitting a punch machine. My right hand, pulled way back, is thrust forward along with the weight of the fall.

Kwagwagwag. The blade collides with the eyeball, sparks flying and making a grinding noise.

It wasn’t the dead center of the eyeball. But it doesn’t matter. It’s fine as long as it breaks, right?

The blade digs in with a heavy weight. But it’s not enough to pierce the thick outer wall of the eyeball.

Crack. Cra-crack. Following the embedded blade, the eye, which is also the core, begins to crack.

‘Is it working? Is it!?’

I thought it was almost there, but the weight concentration of the jump attack was over. The machine tries to head toward the ground following gravity. It holds on, relying on the small blade stuck in the eyeball. However, the blade hadn’t been embedded deeply enough to support the Titan’s weight.

Cra-cra-crack. Instead of prying into the crack, the blade starts to fall straight down.

The fortunate thing is that because the eyeball is round, it didn’t fall straight to the ground. The embedded blade slides, scratching the core as it is drawn downward.

The crack grows larger. But not enough to break it.

Crack. In the end, it was the blade that couldn’t hold on. With the tip of the blade stuck, the middle breaks. The direction of the force that was weakly maintained shifts, and the fall begins.

‘F*cked.’

My mind went blank for a moment. I make eye contact with the Giant Mud, which is looking at me with its heavily cracked eye.

I felt like I could have done it with just a little more. It’s a shame. To fail like this, to give up like this. It was too much of a shame.

I manipulate the levers violently. Even I thought the speed was absurd. And perhaps thanks to the weight concentrated in the upper body, the lower body spins in the air, and I kick the core with my heel.

If I can just drive the blade in like this, surely…!

Kwaang! Unfortunately, my heel kicked below the blade. Could I have kicked the blade if I had done it as soon as I started falling?

But an unexpected sensation was felt through my hand. Like when there’s one less step than you expected. The resistance that should have been felt wasn’t there.

The core, which had been cracked, was not enough to withstand the heavy Titan’s roundhouse kick.

The core shatters instantly. The Titan’s massive body spins and digs into the Giant Mud’s body.

As the core disappeared, it couldn’t maintain its form, and it felt like I was splashing into a body that had truly become mud. The shockwave generated as the core shattered spread, pushing the Titan further into the mud.

When I opened my eyes, I saw a white ceiling. It would have been nice if it were the ceiling of my familiar room. It seems it wasn’t a dream after all.

I vaguely remembered. After defeating the Giant Mud and losing consciousness for a moment, the first thing I saw was the exact opposite of this.

A black world. Buried in the mud, I couldn’t see anything, and I couldn’t even tell which way was up.

But that’s the story when you’re buried with a human body. As for me in the cockpit, I safely checked gravity and then struggled to escape.

Just in time, the remaining troops were pumping lead into the Queen’s neck. And the swarm, lacking intermediate entities, just stopped.

If it had been a more properly developed base, the remaining Kilugs would have acted differently, but fortunately, I survived like that.

With that sense of relief, or perhaps fatigue, I passed out and when I opened my eyes, I was in a hospital room.

Should I get up right away and assess the situation? There’s no particular need to. I entered the game, and I cleared the tutorial. I vaguely remembered the next event, and there was still time.

I just wanted to rest, grateful that I had survived for now.

“Hmm, you’re awake?”

‘F*ck.’

A medical officer passed by, saw my condition, and spoke to me. Unlike my inner thoughts, the K-soldier DNA embedded in my body reacted.

“Salute.”

I had clearly finished my reserve duty and was like an old man, but knowing what rank insignia means, and that I’m just a lowly soldier right now, I move like a knife.

“Oh, that’s enough. How’s your body? It was a mild exhaustion, and even though the Titan mitigated it, you fell from a high place, so it’s just some minor bruising.”

“Yes, I’m a bit stiff, but there’s no major problem.”

“That’s fortunate. If you don’t need to rest more, why don’t you go to the person looking for you?”

“The person… looking for me?”

I had a rough guess. It must be the platoon leader. In the game, the route branches after clearing the tutorial. Commander, infantry, super soldier, pilot, etc. Even within infantry, there are branches, and various options.

This is the process of deciding that. You can decide the subsequent route by talking during the cutscene where you talk to the platoon leader.

You don’t have to decide right away. If you hold off, you can experience each route at the training ground and then decide after talking to the platoon leader again. Changing routes or combining them in the middle is also possible to some extent.

“Yes, the Battalion Commander is looking for you.”

Hmm? Not the platoon leader?