Tech Hero in Another World
Chapter 133: [132] Early action as a Superhero (4)

Chapter 133: [132] Early action as a Superhero (4)

Ren moved exactly as planned. With a communication system tucked in his ear, he received tactical instructions from Fujisawa, hidden at the edge of the forest. They had pinpointed the location of the main control launcher unit—the central hub set to activate and manage all Ultro combat robots. Their objective: destroy that unit before Ultro could be deployed into the city.

The opposition was no joke. Dozens of personnel occupied the base, not counting the mercenary soldiers from the Ares Sparta group patrolling the perimeter. Every inch was secured, every guard alert—but Ren had an edge: the speed, agility, and advanced systems built into his suit.

Fujisawa had prepped C4 charges, ready to take out the control unit without lethal force.

Ren shot into the sky, moving almost silently thanks to stealth mode. Once at optimal altitude, he shut it off—intentionally revealing himself.

Below, a patrolling soldier spotted a strange shadow stretching across the ground, its figure strangely humanoid. He instinctively looked up—and froze.

Shield lights flared as a metal-armored figure hovered above, visor glowing bright blue.

"What the—!?" The soldier couldn’t finish as Ren fired a repulsor blast from his palm at a tactical vehicle parked at the camp’s west side. The explosion erupted violently, flipping the vehicle, lighting fiery flames, and triggering shrieking alarms. Panic rippled outward like wildfire.

Inside the command transport plane, David—marching alongside a sharply dressed backer of the Ultro project—heard chaos crackling through his radio.

"What!? What’s happening out there!?" he barked.

A garbled voice broke through: "[Sir! There’s... an unidentified combat unit... attacking the base! We can’t—zzz—]"

The suited man’s face tightened. "Another robot!? Who dares breach this zone without our sanction!?"

David bolted for the comm room inside the aircraft. A large monitor flickered with footage from soldiers’ helmet cams—there it was: Ren, gliding in the air in suit technology no one recognized.

"That thing yours?" David demanded of the backer, eyes narrowing.

The man snorted dismissively. "Come on. I didn’t design something that... bizarre. But I’ll admit: the tech in that armor is more advanced than my own units."

David turned ice-cold. "Can you neutralize it?"

The backer glanced at his operators. "Relax. Its only advantage is flight. Our robots have auto-airlock tracking and anti-air systems. One launcher, and that thing’s scrap."

He issued a cold order: "Deploy every unit. Activate combat protocols. I don’t care where it came from—this mission must not leak to the outside world."

His subordinates nodded, promptly unleashing ten of their own battle robots into the fray.

---

Bullets rained down on Ren midair. The deafening roar of gunfire ricocheted off his Techno Mark I armor, sparks dancing across the metal surface. He didn’t flinch. In a swift counter, he unleashed twin repulsor blasts from his palms. Small explosions shook the ground and vehicles—non-lethal, precise. He’d tuned the output to avoid fatal damage to humans.

Suddenly, his internal alert flashed red.

"Warning—High-speed projectile detected."

A massive blast struck the left side of his suit—an anti-air strike. Ren was thrown skyward, crashing hard into the ground and slamming a military transport vehicle over on its side. Dust and debris billowed up.

"Ouch... that hurts," Ren muttered softly in English, his body trembling inside the armor.

He deliberately avoided Japanese—keeping his identity hidden. One slip could unravel everything later.

Mercenaries who had been chasing him snapped to attention, spinning toward the mechanical noise.

From the base’s east edge, ten tactical robots marched forward, moving with unnerving precision. Their optical sensors glowed red.

The soldiers cheered. Ren slowly rose from the wreckage, eyes fixed on the advancing machines.

"Well then... I guess I’ve finally got worthy opponents."

Desert wind swirled madly, tossing dust and metal scraps at him. His armor groaned under strain—blackened panels cracked, smoldering from residual heat. Internal sensors tripled the warnings: temperature spiking, structural integrity declining, repulsor power at only 47%.

No time to worry.

The ten robots formed a semi-circle around him. Each stood nearly eight feet tall, armored in matte black. Their red "eyes" locked onto Ren like predators locking on prey.

He inhaled deeply. Inside his helmet, his own heartbeat thundered. His fists clenched, steadying the tremor from the earlier shock. HUD data scrolled: hybrid titanium alloy chassis, dual-weapon mounts, and—damn—semi-autonomous AI. These weren’t just machines. These were hunters.

He knew one mistake could end him.

But retreat wasn’t an option.

"Come on... just try me," he whispered, half prayer, half challenge.

The center robot moved first—smooth, eerily humanlike. A shoulder-mounted launcher slid open. Ren dove sideways; his boots kicked up sand.

A volley of ordnance struck the ground. Two more robots advanced. Ren fired repulsor blasts at their chests—impactful, but not enough to stop them. They shrugged him off and pressed forward.

The earth trembled under their weight.

Ren activated his boost-jump and spun midair. Lasers flashed from his right gauntlet, but heat overloaded the circuits and shut down the weapon. Enemy armor was tougher than he’d calculated.

"Come on, come on... don’t shut down now—!" he gritted.

An explosion rocked him, sending him crashing into the dirt. He staggered up, and one robot lunged—metal fist swinging down like a wrecking ball.

Bam!

Ren braced with both arms, but the force slammed him several meters into a supply container. His chest plate cracked; ribs fractured. Pain seared through him.

He yelped, gasping for breath.

Inside the helmet, tears blurred his vision. His head throbbed. Worse than physical pain, though, was the thought: If I fail... if they break through... and reach the city... people... they’ll—

He gripped his armored fingers tighter. Breaths sharp, heavy, like a dying steam engine. Yet, memories flooded in: Kiriya’s exasperated face. Fujisawa’s steadfast resolve. And... his little sister—innocent and wide-eyed—watching him proudly unveil his first homemade robotic arm made of scrap metal and wires.

’I’m not that genius kid hiding in a garage anymore...’

Gritting his teeth, he pushed himself upright.

"I am... Techno," he murmured—not to the robots, but to himself—an affirmation before stepping into the nightmare.

As Ren squared his stance, a familiar voice crackled in his earpiece—clear, sharp, alive despite being thousands of miles away.

[Yeah, looks like I missed something...]

Ren froze for a moment. "Kiriya!?"

[Sorry, man. I had to take a call from your mom. Believe it or not, it took half my life’s energy to convince her you’re safe with me... when in reality, you’re currently being targeted by an anti-air launcher.]

Ren let out a short laugh, still breathing heavily. "Seriously... only you can crack jokes during the apocalypse," he muttered. But whatever tension was behind the visor was replaced by a spark of life.

[...So, what have I been missing?] Kiriya asked calmly, though there was an undertone of urgency.

Ren ducked, avoiding a plasma bolt from one of the robots, then rolled and fired back. "Long story short? I’m beat to hell. One guy against ten—and they’re no pushovers!"

[I expected as much. So... how does it feel, fighting in a real war?]

"Don’t turn this into nostalgia material, dumbass!" Ren barked—yet he couldn’t hide a grin.

[Relax... I’m fully online now. I’ve opened the satellite feed. Let’s flip this.]

Instantly, Ren’s HUD lit up with heat signatures, real-time data, and optimal trajectories. With Kiriya calling the shots from behind the screen, Ren’s spirit reignited.

Red alerts still blinked on his helmet, but he shrugged them off. Through his visor, the world split into a heat-and-data kaleidoscope. Bullets trajectories glowed red. Enemy paths were highlighted in yellow. And through it all, Kiriya’s voice remained calm—a conductor orchestrating chaos.

[Left flank unit rotates slow. Creates a three‑second opening each spin.]

"Got it," Ren hissed through gritted teeth, sliding low to the ground.

Three robots unleashed a plasma burst, scorching the earth behind him. But Ren was already at the left—right where one robot’s back plating opened, revealing its power core.

In a single fluid motion, he swung his right arm forward and unleashed a full‑power repulsor blast.

Boom!

The robot’s back exploded, shards of metal soaring into the air. The machine convulsed, then tumbled to the ground with a heavy thud, dust rising in its wake—but there was no time to breathe.

[Be careful, two people on the right are approaching.] Kiriya said through the communication line while he continued to manage the information from the computer in his place.

"I see them," he whispered, tucking his knees and triggering his boost‑jump.

He launched skyward—higher than before. Wind lashed his face through the visor slit, and from above he saw it all. Fires. Smoke. Robots circling him like steel wolves. But he also saw something more: a weak point in their formation—a small gap behind the main generator at the base. That was the central control trigger. If he could destroy it.

---

Meanwhile, Fujisawa slipped quietly through the chaotic ranks of soldiers, closing in on the vital logistics hub that was pumping out those killer robots.

Seeing it was heavily guarded, he paused to catch his breath, then steadied himself, checked his gear, drew the pistol from his holster—and braced himself to step into the fray.