The front line, in the life-and-death struggle, was like chewing gum stretched and then squashed, repeatedly ravaged and transformed. With every victory or defeat, the black line representing the boundary would always shift anew. Curved or jagged, bluntly rounded or straight, it could never remain still for long, nor was there ever any chance of repetition or sameness.

William Grant was a seasoned veteran, and more than that, an outstanding officer one could rely on. But even so, he could not guarantee the successful completion of every mission. Just like yesterday—no one had anticipated that, during their scheduled march, they would so unluckily encounter a patrol unit of the Pan-Union Army. The enemy not only outnumbered them by more than double, but also possessed three medium armored personnel carriers with formidable firepower.

Recon infantry had weak firepower; their only advantage was the jet propulsion device mounted on the back of their personal armor, equipped with double the standard energy quota. However, the Pan-Union patrol commander was clearly very experienced. He did not launch an immediate attack, but instead summoned ground-attack aircraft at the fastest speed, coordinating to form a dense, solid linear battle net, slowly pushing the helpless recon squad toward the heavily irradiated zone to the north.

The attack aircraft circling in the sky had already departed. Relying on the three heavily armored vehicles, the Pan-Union patrol was steadily compressing the recon squad’s area of movement.

The current terrain was a canyon flanked by rocky mountains to the east and west. There were only two routes available to William Grant.

First, charge out and confront the Pan-Union’s heavily armed armored vehicles head-on. The outcome: death in battle.

Second, keep heading north, deeper into the S12 mining zone, where radiation levels soared above five hundred. The human limit for exposure was no more than thirty.

He had once sent a distress signal to base. But the intense radiation from the northern mining zone interfered, and all that could be heard in the communicator was a despairing static hiss.

A sergeant straightened up, peered out through a crack in the rocks with his binoculars, and his face instantly turned pale.

“Captain, they’re at most five hundred meters away. We can’t hold out much longer.”

Before he finished speaking, the 20mm autocannon atop the armored vehicle unleashed a thunderous roar like a raging storm. Bursts of large-caliber bullets streaked over at astonishing speed, the muzzle spitting a meter-long tongue of orange-red flame, pouring out a terrifying hail of fire. Bullets struck the rocks beside the recon squad’s hiding spot, sending up a shower of sparks and blasting chunks of stone into countless sharp, tiny fragments.

“We’ve been spotted! Find cover—quick!”

William Grant roared as he grabbed the assault rifle beside him, stumbling and diving behind a rock. He had just raised his weapon to return fire when the sweeping barrage pinned him down completely, leaving him unable to move.

“Boom—”

A small-caliber cannon atop a distant armored vehicle spat a burst of fire, blasting a large patch of earth and stone from the mountaintop. At the same time, two soldiers who were a bit slower and failed to duck in time were caught in the explosion, screaming in agony. One was struck on the shoulder by a large flying rock, curling up on the ground and writhing in pain. The other, standing slightly higher, was hit in the forehead by a heavy machine gun round while dodging debris—his entire head was blown apart on the spot.

The surging blast wave wrapped around the narrow space from all directions. William Grant struggled to suppress the burning pain on his skin. The recon squad’s hiding place was now exposed. Without anti-armor weapons, facing the Pan-Union patrol, the only possible outcome was a one-sided slaughter. There was no chance to fight back. The only option… was to flee north.

Humans are a species that constantly strengthens itself through evolution.

Compared to the old Earth era decades ago, weapons and machinery had become far more powerful. As operators, humans also had to possess corresponding skills. Every new weapon meant fiercer firepower and heavier armor. The impact force of the warhead, the recoil, the inertial shock… Both the Earth Federation and the Pan-Union invested heavily in weapons development. However, not every powerful weapon was suitable for war. More precisely, it had to be suitable for the humans who used them.

Muscles and bones, after all, are not steel. Devastatingly powerful light shoulder-mounted cannons could only be operated by soldiers who had undergone special training, invested in physical strength and endurance, and activated the “heavy weapon load” skill. Similarly, the “Shadowkill” sniper rifle could only be wielded by soldiers with enhanced vision and reflexes. If the operators of these two weapons were swapped, the result would be instant death from the cannon’s violent recoil, or insufficient range of vision, making it impossible to hit targets within effective range.