Lacroix was pondering an important question: what exactly is the value of life?
He used to not bother with this shitty question. In his early years of wandering with the tribe, all he thought about was how to get an extra bite of food and avoid hunger; then as an adventurer, it was still about food; and even after becoming an adventurer, it fundamentally boiled down to getting a bite to eat.
Later on, when all of his brothers from the same wandering tribe had perished, he joined the Beast Slaughter Group. He could finally eat his fill, but now his goal became fighting the Greenskins, avenging those brothers who had once fought at his side.
And then, somehow, the higher-ups convinced him to transition from an adventurer into a formal member of the governor's regular armed forces, complete with military rank and a unit designation.
But he didn't care much about that, and he was even supportive of it.
He could eat even better, and His Excellency the Governor issued them equipment and weapons that were clearly far superior to the rubbish he had used as an adventurer. Plus, they had cannons, and other friendly forces provided support with heavy equipment like armored vehicles. This clearly increased their efficiency in eradicating the Greenskins by a huge margin.
What was not to be happy about?
Support, ten thousand times support!
Some time ago, they had wiped out the Greenskins in the High Tower ruins.
According to what the officers said, to prevent the Greenskins from multiplying again, every area of the High Tower ruins needed to be scorched with flames.
Sometimes he wondered whether the Low Energy Storms that often blew up in the High Tower ruins could replace the need for burning with fire.
But regardless, the big problem had been dealt with; even if Greenskins occasionally regenerated, the numbers wouldn't be too much to handle—they could simply eliminate them and burn the area again.
Just as he and his comrades were casually chatting, guessing whether their recent performance was good enough to reclaim the title 'Beast Slaughter Group' from the governor, a new mission was handed down.
They were to board a transport ship and proceed to a starship orbiting the planet to carry out their mission.
At the news of this assignment, Lacroix and his comrades were utterly dumbfounded.
Was this going to take them to the heavens?
He had gazed up at the starry sky countless times but never imagined that one day he would leave the ground to fight in the vastness of space.
They were inexplicably excited.
Though they could foresee the potential dangers, when they sat on the spacecraft and saw the earth recede, breaking through the atmosphere to the point where they could almost see the entire globe below them—the boundless land curving into a sphere, now a mix of dull yellow and slate blue—they were still awestruck.
So this is our world.
This is Rage Owl Star, where generations of our ancestors have lived.
It was hard for him to articulate the emotions stirring inside him, and perhaps his comrades felt the same. The comrades still conversing with one another had become silent.
The transport ship slowly approached the massive steel creation suspended in the void.
A hatch opened, the transport ship entered, then the hatch closed as it seemed to fill with gas. Another door opened, and the ship moved further inside to a vast area akin to an airport.
One by one, transport ships entered through various exits, opened their hatches, and troops disembarked.
Soon, he too had no time to look around as the hatch of their transport ship opened, and their platoon walked out, following the ground crew's instructions, heading inside to the Marine Corps barracks.
The space temporarily assigned to them was very cramped. Their whole squad was squeezed into a narrow space of a few square meters. There were four sets of beds with two sets pushed tightly together, leaving about forty centimeters of aisle in between, and each set had three bunks, theoretically allowing for twelve people to sleep.
And there were two spare beds to store our stuff...
That was their complaint.
There was a canteen for meals, the food entirely made of synthetic starch which they said could become very bland after eating for a long period, but for now, they felt it was fine as long as they could fill their stomachs. Maybe they would grow tired of it eventually, but would they really stay on the starship until then?
However, rumor had it that there were markets and bars somewhere on the starship, offering different things, but they had never seen them, and they weren't allowed to wander about the starship.
Even these rumors were dug up by the more restless soldiers in the platoon, who'd go to the canteen to eat but managed to chat with the so-called Starship Marine Corps, who typically didn't like to interact with them.
Lacroix wasn't interested in that.
What he cared about was the question that had arisen since being transported to the starship and seeing the magnificent view of space: what exactly is the value of life?
He didn't know why he was thinking about such a boring matter, but with nothing else to do while confined in the narrow, closed-off cabin, that's what he did.
He pondered the question for days without reaching any conclusion.
Until today, when the crimson lights were flashing everywhere, alarms were ringing non-stop, and he and his comrades received orders to leave their quarters and assemble outside. Continue your saga on m|v-l'e -NovelHub