Attack, Attack, and Attack Again!

"Death Seekers Company, all personnel! Emergency assembly in front of company headquarters! This is urgent!"

The Players resting at their posts or watching the tabletop campaign were stunned for a moment, then immediately sprang into action. They dropped what they were doing, grabbed their Lasguns, and rushed toward where Ruan Wenbo and JK were at top speed.

"Damn, what's going on? The Company Commander broadcast to the whole server?"

"Emergency assembly! Something big is coming!"

"Move, move, move! Stop dawdling, or we won't even get the leftovers!"

The Players' enthusiasm ignited in an instant. In less than three minutes, a hundred Players had assembled in the open ground before headquarters. The ranks were far from neat, but their soaring morale was utterly genuine.

Such a large-scale and rapid mobilization naturally alerted Commissar Walter. Wearing a grave expression, he strode out of his temporary office and went straight to Ruan Wenbo.

"Ruan, what is this about?" Walter's sharp gaze swept over the assembled soldiers.

Ruan Wenbo handed the radio handset to JK, then turned to face the Commissar and explained concisely, "Commissar, while I was testing the radio, I accidentally made contact with a group of Adeptus Mechanicus Skitarii in the Mid-hive. They're surrounded by heretics and requesting aid. We're going to rescue them."

"The Mid-hive?"

At those words, Commissar Walter's usually composed expression turned grave at once, his brow furrowing tightly. "Are you certain? The massive lift leading to the Mid-hive is the only route you can take. There will be no friendly forces along the way to cover you. And I can assure you, it will be heavily guarded by Cultists or some other kind of heretics."

His voice carried a clear warning. "Reaching the lift does not mean victory. You'll be fighting in an entirely unfamiliar Mid-hive... that means traveling dozens, perhaps hundreds of kilometers on foot, and encountering hundreds or thousands of unpredictable skirmishes along the way."

"Don't worry, Commissar. We're confident." Ruan Wenbo's gaze was firm as he looked at the Players assembled behind him, their faces filled with excitement and anticipation. "Defending won't solve the problem. We must counterattack."

After saying that, he added, "Once we leave, the defenses here will be in your hands, Commissar Walter."

Walter's expression grew somewhat complicated. He looked at the young man before him, then at the soldiers behind him, who seemed not to know the meaning of fear. After a long while, he slowly let out a breath. "I never thought that after serving in the Imperial Guard for so many years, I'd be lectured by a new recruit who's only been enlisted for a few days."

He raised a hand and adjusted the military cap atop his head, a symbol of authority and death. The shadow of its brim concealed the turmoil in his eyes.

"Go. This place will not fall. As long as we live, the position stands."

In Ruan Wenbo's unquestionable resolve, the Players' almost blind optimism, and the string of military miracles they had created so far, Walter felt an emotion called "hope" for the first time in a long while. That faint spark quietly kindled within a heart weathered by countless hardships, hardened like iron by war.

How long had it been since humanity on Pedetia had last welcomed victory?

Yet at the same time, he feared that this fragile flame of hope would vanish in an instant. He did not dare place too much hope in the Death Seekers Company.

As a veteran who had survived countless desperate battles, Walter understood better than anyone that the greater the hope, the greater the disappointment. If he truly began to hope that the Death Seekers Company could lead humanity to victory, then what if... what if they were defeated and annihilated? That immense disappointment and grief would likely crush him completely, robbing him of the courage to keep fighting.

But Walter had long since made up his mind. Whether hope existed or not, whether the end was victory or destruction, he would fight until the very last moment.

With Walter's assurance, Ruan Wenbo wasted no more time. He turned to face the eager Players, who had already finished assembling, and gave the order to depart.

"All personnel, objective: Mid-hive. Move out!"

"Ura!"

"For the Emperor!"

"Charge! Kill those Chaos bastards!"

The Players erupted in thunderous cheers. Under the leadership of each Squad Leader, the nearly hundred-strong force swiftly formed marching columns and filed out through the gates of the Chemical Refinery, advancing toward the distant central district of the hive city, which rose like a tower piercing the heavens.

Commissar Walter and the remaining Astra Militarum soldiers under his command stood at the camp entrance to see this unusual company off. Watching their energetic backs, one Astra Militarum soldier following Walter wore a deeply puzzled expression.

"Sir..." he quietly asked the veteran beside him, "the Death Seekers Company... haven't they been fighting nonstop these past few days? First defensive battles, then assaults on fortified positions, and now an expedition... don't they need to rest at all?"

Of course, Players did not need rest.

For them, death merely meant darkness before their eyes, followed by starting over a few seconds later. In most cases, they never lived long enough to suffer muscle soreness from high-intensity combat. As for mental fatigue, that simply did not exist. Playing in an advanced Game Pod was itself equivalent to a deep sleep. At worst, playing for too long meant sleeping for too long, leaving them with a slight headache when they woke up.

Naturally, the natives of Pedetia knew none of these details. In their eyes, the Death Seekers Company, formed only a few days ago, was a group of tireless, deathless war maniacs. They constantly marched willingly onto the battlefield and always brought victory back from blood and fire.

The Astra Militarum veteran who had been asked stared at the Players' receding backs with a complicated look, then shook his head.

"Who knows? Maybe they're made of special materials." He sighed, his tone carrying a trace of awe and emotion. "But I think I finally understand the difference between ordinary units like ours and those famous legions... At least before this, I'd never have believed that a company of new recruits could possess such unstoppable courage, such confidence in victory, and... such a record of triumph after triumph."

Ruan Wenbo, who had already gone far ahead, naturally could not hear the remarks of those Astra Militarum NPCs behind him. As he led the company onward, he rapidly browsed the system shop in his mind, considering what kind of armored vehicle he should acquire for the company.

Commissar Walter had a point. They had a long journey ahead, and the road to the Mid-hive was bound to be filled with obstacles. Without heavy firepower, relying solely on infantry Lasguns and scattered heavy weapons would mean long delays if they were suppressed by enemy strongpoints with superior firepower. If the Adeptus Mechanicus Skitarii in the Mid-hive could no longer hold out by then, this expedition would have been for nothing.

The Death Seekers Company needed its own mobile heavy-firepower platform to ensure it could strike the enemy hard and achieve rapid breakthroughs. After all, based on past experience, most of these Cultists were a rabble. As long as they were suddenly hit by a fierce bombardment, their lines would often collapse immediately, allowing the Players to break through with ease.

Besides, after buying a portable radio for every Squad Leader, he still had plenty of merit left. Each radio cost only two hundred merit, and he still had more than nine thousand merit available.

First, main battle tanks were out of the question.

Even the cheapest Leman Russ Conqueror variant cost nine thousand merit. Once the ammunition it came with was spent, it would be completely mute. At that point, the only remaining method of attack would be driving the tank over enemies—not to mention the mechanical wear that would inflict on the tank itself, doing that against Cultists with psykers was no different from charging forward in a giant Ironhide target to commit suicide.

The Players at their current stage could not afford to play with tanks. At the very least, they would have to wait until they had successfully rescued that group of Skitarii and gained the ability to produce ammunition themselves before considering it.