Ryo didn't need the system's snarky voice to tell him to move. The ear-splitting BOOM of the artillery shell sent dirt and shrapnel flying, tearing into the bodies of soldiers around him. Blood sprayed across his face, the warmth of it shocking him into action.
Move! Move, dammit!
He scrambled to his feet, heart hammering against his ribs. His body felt heavier, his clothes rougher—he glanced down and realized he wasn't wearing his usual hoodie and jeans anymore. Instead, a tattered, mud-streaked military uniform clung to him, and a bolt-action rifle was slung across his back.
> "What the hell is going on?!"
The system answered, its voice dripping with amusement.
> "Welcome to the warzone, Private Dumbass. You've been drafted into the 32nd Ironclad Infantry. Try not to get vaporized."
Before Ryo could scream at the disembodied voice, another shell whistled through the air. He hit the ground just as it detonated a few meters away, sending a soldier's severed arm tumbling past him.
This is real. This isn't a dream.
Panic surged through him, but the survival instinct was stronger. A figure loomed in his peripheral vision—a soldier, his face caked in mud and blood, grabbing Ryo by the collar.
"Get your ass up, recruit! You wanna die here?!"
The man yanked him to his feet and shoved a rifle into his hands.
"Take cover! Enemy walkers inbound!"
Walkers?
Ryo barely had time to process the word before the ground trembled. A mechanical growl filled the air, followed by the thunderous THUD-THUD-THUD of heavy metal feet.
He turned—and felt his stomach drop.
A massive, bipedal war machine—easily three stories tall—stomped across the battlefield, its rusted steel frame covered in thick armor plates. The front bore a jagged emblem: a crimson gear with a skull in the center.
> "Congratulations! You're now on the front lines against the Hellion Empire's War Walkers! Your chances of survival? 1.3%. Good luck!"
"Fuck you, system!" Ryo shouted, raising his rifle with shaking hands.
The walker's main gun—an enormous, rotating autocannon—began to spin, and the battlefield erupted into pure chaos.
The Rules of Survival
Bullets ripped through the trench, soldiers screaming as they were torn apart. Ryo barely had time to throw himself behind a pile of sandbags before the autocannon unleashed a stream of death.
> "Alright, rookie. Time for your first tutorial!"
> [QUEST: SURVIVE THE FIRST FIVE MINUTES]
Objective: Stay alive.
Reward: Not dying. Maybe a bonus if you actually fight back.
"Oh, gee, thanks!" Ryo snarled, pressing himself into the dirt.
His hands trembled around the rifle. He wasn't a soldier. He had never fired a gun in his life!
Then again, he'd never been teleported into a dieselpunk warzone either, and yet here he was.
A soldier next to him popped up to return fire—only for a bullet to punch clean through his helmet, splattering brain matter against the trench wall.
Ryo's breath hitched.
If I don't fight, I die.
He gritted his teeth, gripping the rifle tighter. The bolt-action mechanism was familiar—it's just like my model kits, right? Just… bigger.
He took a shaky breath, braced the rifle against his shoulder, and peeked over the sandbags.
The War Walker loomed, steam hissing from its joints as it unleashed hell.
Soldiers scrambled around him, firing rifles, throwing grenades—doing anything to bring the mechanical beast down. But the walker's armor shrugged off their attacks like pebbles against a battleship.
> "You're thinking too small, rookie. If bullets worked, these guys wouldn't be getting shredded like meat in a grinder."
Ryo cursed under his breath.
Then what the hell am I supposed to do?!
The system hummed.
> "You've got a whole brain in that skull, don't you? Use it."
His eyes darted around, searching for something—anything—that could help. That's when he saw it.
A soldier slumped against the trench wall, his lifeless hands still clutching a rocket launcher.
Bingo.
Ryo lunged, prying the weapon from the corpse's grip. It was heavier than he expected, its cold metal pressing against his chest. His stomach churned, but he shoved the horror aside. If he stopped to think about the body, he'd hesitate. And if he hesitated, he'd die.
> [Quest Update: Optional Bonus Objective Added]
Destroy the War Walker.
Reward: ???
The walker's turret swiveled toward his trench.
Shit.
Ryo shouldered the launcher, aiming at the beast's exposed knee joint. He had no idea if this would work, but it was better than waiting to be minced into paste.
He exhaled, steadying his shaking hands—
—And pulled the trigger.
The missile streaked forward, leaving a trail of smoke in its wake.
A heartbeat later, it struck the walker's joint. The explosion was deafening, metal twisting and groaning as the beast staggered. Its balance wavered—
And then, with a thunderous crash, it collapsed.
The battlefield went still.
For a second, Ryo just stood there, rifle limp in his hands, heart pounding in his ears.
Then the system chimed.
> "Well, shit. You actually did it."
> [QUEST COMPLETE: SURVIVE THE FIRST FIVE MINUTES]
Bonus Objective Complete!
REWARDS: 500 XP, 1 Gearbound Credit, and a Mystery Blueprint.
The remaining enemy soldiers scattered, their morale shattered with the walker's fall.
The exhausted troops around Ryo cheered, clapping him on the back.
He barely registered it. His body was running on fumes, his mind still catching up.
This was real. He was in a war.
And he had just taken down a fucking War Walker.
The system's voice crackled again.
> "Enjoy the celebration, rookie. Because this was just the tutorial."
> "Next round starts soon."
Ryo swallowed hard.
This was only the beginning.