In the square, five thousand people had finished forming ranks.
At the rear.
In the second formation, at the middle of the unit preparing to enter the [Titanfall] instance, was Sea City's 109th Assault Squad.
At the back of the squad, a dark-skinned, solidly built middle-aged man stood quietly, his face showing neither sorrow nor joy.
His name was Tao Sixi. Forty-two years old, captain of Sea City's frontline 109th Assault Squad, Sequence 9, an utterly ordinary veteran.
Tao Sixi had served on the front line for four years. In those four years, he had withstood the impact of countless monster tides, taken part in six defensive-line reconstructions, and personally placed the mangled remains of thirty-one comrades into body bags.
A warrior of iron.
That was how their squad judged this captain. Perhaps because he had killed too much and grown too used to partings by life and death, he had even become somewhat wooden.
"Captain Tao."
Just then.
A squad member beside him, a dozen or so years younger, suddenly nudged his arm in secret and spoke in a low voice.
That squad member was called Ye Chi. Twenty-seven years old, he had a refined face but a foul temper, and could be considered a recruit.
Tao Sixi did not turn his head. "Mm?"
"Have you heard?"
"The Titanfall instance has a lot of modern machinery."
"I've heard."
"Aren't you excited?"
Ye Chi was a gun nut. Rumor had it that when he first enlisted, it had been just to get his hands on guns. Usually, when they rested at the front line, he could talk about guns for three days and three nights.
What caliber could break a monster's defenses, what cannon was best for carpet-bombing the ground.
Unfortunately, Ye Chi had been born at the wrong time.