Chapter 139: Qin Ji — The Boss Has Blown Up

“Waaagh!”

The greenskin stared at Wang Ming, who was sprawled across the shell of the Gargant. After pondering for a moment, it resolved to become a warboss. With a roar, it leapt toward Wang Ming.

The choppa in its hands shrieked through the air as it swung straight at him. Wang Ming reacted instantly, crawling a short distance to the side.

That single movement allowed him to evade the greenskin’s choppa perfectly. The greenskin boy flew past him and plummeted toward the hard ground below. They had been incredibly close, yet the attack had missed completely. Wang Ming could even see the boy’s large teeth through its open mouth.

“Splort!”

After flying past Wang Ming, the greenskin dropped rapidly toward the ground. A moment later, a crisp sound came from below. Hearing it, Wang Ming hurriedly lowered his head to look.

The greenskin had smashed into the ground. Though such a fall could not kill an ork, the instant it landed, a bolt round fired by one of the transmigrators blew its head apart.

“Uh…”

Wang Ming stared speechlessly at the greenskin. He had witnessed the entire process of its death, and it had truly died an absurdly miserable death. This greenskin boy had attacked a Primarch twice and even succeeded once, only to be taken out by an ordinary bolt round because of a freak accident. Had it survived, it might well have become a warboss—or, at the very least, a greenskin boss.

After taking one last look at the headless corpse, Wang Ming continued crawling toward the cockpit. After a while, he finally reached the entrance.

The moment Wang Ming arrived at the cockpit door, a burst of bullets struck his head and upper body. The void shields around him finally activated, but the shooter’s aim was terrible. The bullets hit Wang Ming for only a brief moment before flying harmlessly into the sky.

“There are two greenskins left. A boy and a Big Mek.”

Wang Ming looked at the greenskin holding the big shoota. Braving the bullets flying wildly around him, he walked toward them step by step.

He reached the two greenskins. At such close range, the guns no longer needed to be aimed. The void shields failed to react at this distance, but the defensive field still stopped every bullet.

Wang Ming reached out, seized both greenskins by the head, and squeezed lightly.

Their heads instantly became mushroom paste.

“All right, the greenskins are cleared out. Now let’s see how this alien contraption works.”

After dealing with the only greenskins in the cockpit, Wang Ming walked over to the Gargant’s control console and began experimenting with the alien machine. After all, this was a Titan-class weapon, and as a cheerful young man, he naturally wanted to experience what it felt like to pilot a Titan.

“Uh… this one controls the direction. Are these the weapon controls? And what the hell is this big red button?”

Staring at the greenskin-style control panel before him, Wang Ming began testing the switches one by one against the fleeing greenskin horde.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Shell after shell, along with rockets of unmistakable greenskin design, streaked into the horde. They crashed among the greenskins and erupted in enormous explosions. Countless greenskin boys were hurled into the air, transformed into mushroom paste and various kinds of roasted mushroom.

“By the God-Emperor! Has the boss taken control of the Gargant?”

Qin Ji stared at the Gargant Wang Ming was operating in astonishment. He had just seen Wang Ming enter the machine, so he knew exactly who was controlling it now.

“How does the boss even know how to operate this thing?”

The transmigrator beside Qin Ji watched the Gargant slaughter its way through the greenskin horde and asked in bewilderment. None of them could understand how Wang Ming had figured out how to operate the machine.

“Damn, this Gargant is incredible! Hmm… what does this red button do?”

As Wang Ming drove the Gargant in pursuit of the greenskins, he continued examining its various weapons. He had tried nearly everything and pressed almost every button. Only the large red button remained unexplored.

Wang Ming stared at it, hesitating over whether to press it. He knew perfectly well that anything built by greenskins was bound to contain all manner of bizarre features.

In the end, however, he could not resist. There was only one reason.

Curiosity.

Click—BOOM!

The instant Wang Ming pressed the button, the entire Gargant exploded.

The blast inflicted terrible casualties on the surrounding greenskins. Countless metal fragments whirled through the air like bomb shrapnel, cutting unlucky greenskins into pieces.

“Look! The boss exploded!”

Qin Ji watched the Gargant turn into a gigantic firework amid the greenskin horde. Slapping the transmigrator beside him, he shouted to the others who were preparing to pursue the fleeing greenskins.

“Stop shouting…”

The transmigrator pointed toward the enormous heap of Gargant wreckage ahead.

A huge armor plate atop the wreckage shifted slightly. Then a tremendous force sent it flying.

Clang!

The plate crashed to the ground, and Wang Ming crawled out from beneath the debris. He shook his head, staring blankly at the scene around him. He had never imagined that a greenskin creation would include a self-destruct function.

“Damn it, what the hell was that? Was this the Big Mek’s doing? You just do whatever you want, don’t you? Does your warboss know about this?”

As Wang Ming rose from the ground, he furiously cursed the greenskin Big Mek he had just killed. How had something so incredibly WAAAGH! managed to install a self-destruct button? Wang Ming had assumed it was some particularly powerful weapon.

Fortunately, although the Gargant had exploded, nearly all the greenskins nearby had died as well.

“Sigh… happiness is always so fleeting. Should I go find a few Titans to play with? But if I do that, will the Adeptus Mechanicus come after me?”

Looking at the sea of dead greenskins around him, Wang Ming walked from the Gargant’s wreckage toward the transmigrators. As he went, he considered whether to acquire some Titans and add them to the transmigrators’ order of battle.

Titan-class equipment had left an excellent impression on him. Its enormous size, superb defenses, and incomparable firepower struck directly at the fear of insufficient firepower encoded in Wang Ming’s genes.

He had begun seriously considering acquiring a few Titans for amusement. But if he truly did so, he would inevitably attract the attention of the Adeptus Mechanicus. Who knew what they might do for the sake of those machines of the gods?

“Boss, how did you manage to blow up the Gargant?”

When Qin Ji saw Wang Ming return, he asked what had caused the explosion. He had clearly seen Wang Ming slaughtering greenskins with it moments earlier, so how had it suddenly blown apart?

“Who knows? Maybe that greenskin Big Mek installed something incorrectly.”

Wang Ming answered Qin Ji without hesitation. He would never admit that he had randomly pressed buttons and blown up the Gargant himself. It was far too embarrassing.

The greenskins’ destruction on the island was only a matter of time. They had nowhere else to flee. They could move only within the island’s boundaries, because if they dared venture onto the ice beyond it, they would immediately become food for the many creatures that lurked beneath the surface.

The natural environment of Kosel IV had never been safe. Whether it was the extreme weather capable of freezing ordinary humans to death or the terrifying beasts beneath the ice, everything constantly reminded the people living there that this was a dreadful frozen world—not some Christmas-themed amusement park.

Yet the environment that tormented humanity so thoroughly had, in this greenskin invasion, protected most human settlements. Humans could use various aircraft to travel between the islands. The greenskins, meanwhile, could hardly get any aircraft airborne before human anti-aircraft weapons shot them down.

The destruction of greenskin aircraft was entirely deliberate. Dedicated scouts constantly searched for greenskin flyers, then reported their positions to command. Command would deploy anti-aircraft weapons accordingly.

These measures existed solely to prevent the greenskins from spreading. Kosel IV’s natural environment ensured that their range of activity could never become too large, and humanity understood this. That was why they would never allow a single greenskin aircraft to remain in the sky.

“Report, my lord Primarch. The 127th and 156th Regiments of the Star Liberators are pursuing the remaining ork forces. Our advance remains stable, and we have suffered only five wounded.”

At the temporary command post, Colonel Andras reported the current battle situation to Wang Ming. The Star Liberators was the name the transmigrators had given to their auxiliary soldiers. They hoped these troops would become like that great army, fearing neither hardship nor danger as they stood between humanity and every enemy seeking to extinguish its lights.

“All right. There’s no need to advance too quickly. The soldiers’ safety must be guaranteed. They are the Emperor’s currency, and they are not worth spending on beasts.”

Wang Ming examined the virtual battlefield displayed on his data-slate as he listened to Colonel Andras’s report. When the colonel finished, he gave his instructions.

The mortal auxiliaries serving under the transmigrators had been recruited according to strict requirements. The mortal auxiliaries of the Star Transmigrators were all high-quality Imperial troops. Most came from the Throne World, Terra. Among the Imperial masses, whose average level of education barely extended beyond basic literacy, they were considered highly educated—at least possessing the equivalent of a middle-school education on Earth.

They were also healthy men between the ages of twenty and thirty.

Many of them might eventually become officers. At the very least, to the Imperium, soldiers who had fought through battles of every size alongside the transmigrators were excellent Guardsmen.

Meanwhile, on the battlefield where the greenskins were being pursued, an eleven-man auxiliary squad was fighting from behind a Leman Russ, relying on its firepower to hold back the remaining ork armored vehicles. A transmigrator was fighting alongside them as well.

“Tolochik, what are you doing? Get the melta out! Those scrap-metal greenskin cans are coming around behind us!”

The squad leader bellowed at the gunner. Greenskin scrap-metal cans were closing in from every direction. The Leman Russ was dealing with those ahead, while the transmigrator was fighting a gigantic scrap-metal can with a power sword. The squad had no choice but to rely on its own firepower to deal with the rest.

“Muhata! I’m reloading! Buy me some time! I’ll be ready in a moment!”

Tolochik shouted back while rapidly replacing the fuel canister of his meltagun. The weapon had already been fired an unknown number of times, but fortunately it was a finely crafted melta gun.

“Jiasa! What about your plasma weapon?”

Muhata turned his attention to another soldier in the fire support team.

“Squad leader! Don’t look at me! The plasma weapon has overheated. If I fire again, the machine spirit will be displeased!”

Jiasa fired his lasgun in short bursts at the gaps in the armor of a greenskin scrap-metal can, trying to send a laser through the openings and kill the grot driver inside. He shouted back at Muhata as he did so.

His plasma weapon had overheated after several rounds of combat. It now lay abandoned on the ground, emitting wisps of scorching white smoke.

“What am I supposed to use to buy you time?”

Muhata stared at the greenskin scrap-metal cans charging toward them and drew his power sword.

Power swords were standard equipment among the mortal auxiliaries. Almost every auxiliary soldier carried one, giving them at least some means of defending themselves against Space Marines.

As for the equipment issued to the mortal auxiliaries of the Star Transmigrators, Wang Ming had provided them with practically anything that could be fitted to a human soldier. The Star Liberators could be said to be the best-equipped mortal force in the Imperium apart from the Solar Auxilia.

“Get down!”

Just as Muhata prepared to hold back the greenskin scrap-metal cans, an enormous figure appeared behind him and slammed him to the ground.

At the exact moment Muhata hit the dirt, a large-caliber round skimmed across his helmet and struck the rear armor plate of the Leman Russ.

“Pay more attention to your surroundings!”

The transmigrator looked at Muhata, who lay sprawled on the ground in a daze, and offered a brief warning before charging toward the greenskin scrap-metal cans with his power sword.

The transmigrator’s condition was terrible—an injury that would have been fatal even to a Space Marine. Half his body had been burned into charred bones during his earlier battle with a greenskin scrap-metal can, struck by some bizarre greenskin melta weapon.

He could continue fighting only because of the Belisarian Furnace and the formidable vitality contained in Wang Ming’s gene-seed.

Holding the power sword in one hand, the transmigrator charged toward the nearest greenskin scrap-metal can. Before the grot driver inside could react, his experience fighting such machines took over. He thrust the sword straight into the cockpit, piercing the grot’s head and turning it into pulp.