Tech Hero in Another World
Chapter 89: [88] Infiltrate (4)

Chapter 89: [88] Infiltrate (4)

Everyone fell silent for a few seconds. Breaths were held. The tense air in the narrow corridor felt like it had been swallowed by time. Even the torch flames seemed to hesitate, afraid to flicker and break the tension.

Then Derek locked eyes with the elite soldier. Blood trickled down from a split brow, but his gaze remained sharp. In a cold, defiant voice, he said, "Ask the ones you’ve already sent to the ground."

The elite soldier raised his axe slightly, replying flatly, "Then... die."

Without warning, the towering figure moved—far faster than a man his size should. The axe sliced through the air and smashed into the ground where Derek had stood just a split second earlier. Derek had leapt to the side, but even the shockwave from the strike was enough to send him sprawling.

Ren, seeing Derek nearly struck down, immediately jumped into action. In his hand—a Glock 17. He fired at the man, but the elite simply swatted the bullet away with his axe like brushing off a mosquito.

"Seriously?" Ren scowled. "That was a bullet. A BULLET!—what is this, the final boss of a retro RPG?"

The elite soldier lunged again. This time, the axe spun toward Ren, forcing him to duck behind a pillar, spin out, and fire again. But the enemy was already too close.

Derek, struggling to his feet, slashed low in a sweeping arc toward the enemy’s legs. His blade almost pierced the armor, but the beast of a man leapt lightly—far too nimble for a body that size.

"He’s a master level," Derek hissed. "And he knows we’re tired."

Ren raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, thanks for the heads-up. Super helpful."

But before he could finish the sarcasm, the elite soldier launched another flurry—slashing from the left, spinning to the right, then bringing the axe down from above. Derek blocked one blow just in time, but the other two forced Ren into a desperate backflip, narrowly avoiding a fatal strike.

Unfortunately, the move had been predicted. The elite’s steel boot slammed into Ren’s chest mid-air, sending him flying back into the stone wall with a brutal crack. The impact echoed. Metal hit stone. Ren’s body crumpled to the floor, trembling, gasping for breath.

Meanwhile, Derek was barely holding on. Each clash of the massive axe against his sword rattled his arms, numbing them. His knees touched the ground. The blade was beginning to crack. One more strike... and it would break.

The elite soldier looked down at him. From beneath the helmet, his eyes were cold and empty—emotionless murder. Not fearsome—crushing.

The axe slowly pressed down on Derek’s blade, now splintered and groaning. "Die, dog," the soldier growled, his voice like iron dragged across stone.

Blood began to trickle where the axe kissed skin. Derek gritted his teeth, still resisting—but his body was done.

And just then, the night sky thundered with a mechanical roar.

—KRANG—SHHHK!

A metallic figure emerged from a sudden swirl of dust and smoke. Each step landed like a miniature quake. The armor gleamed in blackened chrome, with a glowing blue core reactor pulsing in its chest. Its visor reflected torchlight, and panels along its right arm lit up, revealing a concentrated energy charge.

The elite soldier turned. For a split second, his eyes widened—a rare reaction for someone like him. But he didn’t have time to speak.

A burst of searing blue light exploded from Mark 2’s palm.

—WHOOOOOSH!

The repulsor blast shot out, slamming into the elite from the side. It didn’t destroy him, but it launched his massive body into the opposite wall. Dust and debris flew.

Derek collapsed fully to his knees, breath ragged, hands shaking uncontrollably. His vision blurred, but he could hear the heavy, deliberate clank of metal footsteps approaching. The whine of servos. The hiss of pressure valves. His skin crawled. Another enemy? Was this the end?

But through the haze of blood and broken breath, a metal hand reached out to him.

"Come on. Get up and get out of here," said a voice—raspy, tired, but firm. Ren’s voice.

Derek turned his head, dazed. "N... Nico?"

"Yeah, it’s me. Now move it—you’re not dead yet, so don’t give up now." Ren pulled him to his feet, draping Derek’s weight over Mark 2’s shoulder. Without another word, they limped together toward the corridor where the others were regrouping.

"Listen," Ren said, spinning around to face Derek and the rest. "All of you go. Find Khan. Tell him what happened out here."

One of them—Mikel—looked back uncertainly. "You sure you can hold them off alone?"

Ren glanced at the corridor entrance, where the stomp of palace soldiers grew louder. At least fifty were approaching—most standard troops, but some wore black armor bearing the insignia of elite units.

"Don’t worry," he said, twisting his wrist. A panel popped open; his right arm glowed a brilliant blue. "It’s a good day. I’m not going down. And even if I do... I’ll go out cool enough to be worth a story."

Derek looked at him for a long moment, then nodded. "Good luck, Nico."

Ren gave his shoulder a quick pat and nudged him toward the others. Then he turned, standing alone at the wide entrance—facing the wave approaching.

In the darkness, palace soldiers began to appear. Torches in their hands sent waves of orange light dancing along the stone walls. Shouts and commands echoed as they formed up.

Fifty men. Including two elites with spears sharp enough to pierce steel.

Ren took a deep breath. His eyes swept across them, settling on the one in front—the likely commander.

He stepped forward once, raised his right hand, and pointed straight at the front line.

"I’m only gonna say this once," Ren declared, his voice amplified through the armor’s vocal system, echoing across the entire hall. "Turn around now... or you’ll taste hell from a guy in a very

Not a single soldier moved.

Instead, their leader raised his hand—a signal.

Ren nodded slowly. "Alright. You chose the hard way."

The chest of the Mark 2 armor flared to life. Shoulder panels slid open. Micro-repulsor wings hissed with backward thrust. Light from the core reactor began to concentrate, and Ultro’s voice echoed softly:

『Combat system active. Mode: Area Suppression.』

Ren clenched his fist.

"Alright then. Let’s have some fun, you armored bastards."

With a small, grinning smile behind the helmet, Ren raised his right hand, palm open toward the line of palace soldiers beginning to advance. Blue light started to gather in his palm—glowing fracture patterns crawled up his armored forearm.

『Repulsor charged.』

WHUUMM!

In a wide, cone-shaped blast of energy, a repulsor surge erupted from Ren’s hand, slamming into the front eight soldiers. Their bodies flew like rag dolls, smashing into corridor walls and support pillars with loud, bone-crunching thuds. Weapons scattered from their hands, and groans echoed among the flash of twisted metal.

"Yeah, I could do this all day," Ren muttered, spinning quickly and angling his left shoulder toward another group circling from the right.

FSSSKT!

Two mini-launchers popped from his armor’s shoulder, firing off stun grenades—non-lethal, but enough to take out a group at once.

DUUUNG!CRACKK!Zzzapp!

Flashes of light and the electric crack of explosions sent over a dozen soldiers tumbling, some convulsing with foam spilling from their mouths as their nervous systems shorted out.

"Next up..." Ren lowered his right hand and opened a slot on his left forearm—a short, jagged plasma blade extended out, a close-range combat knife built for slicing, not elegance.

But just then, heavy footsteps echoed.

—THUD!—THUD!—THUD!—

Two figures marched forward in perfect rhythm. The remaining two elite royal soldiers now stood side by side—different from the rest. No rush. No words. One wore black-and-gold armor with a horn-like helm, carrying a long, triple-edged spear; the other in dull crimson armor, wielding twin curved blades.

『Warning: High-level opponent detected.』『Estimated threat score: A-rank. Duel category.』

Ren narrowed his eyes. "Alright... what’s the status on the first one?"

『Vital signs stable but unconscious.』

"So he passed out, huh..." Ren muttered, remembering the ax-wielding Samsara Order elite.

The one with the spear moved first, swinging his weapon through the air. The strike wasn’t just fast—it was precise. The tip nearly grazed Ren’s helmet if not for his micro-wing boosters flaring and blasting him backward a full meter.

Meanwhile, the dual-blade elite didn’t speak a word. He dashed in from the right, using a spiral movement technique that was damn hard to read. Ren brought up his arm, blocking with the shoulder guard—but the impact sent shockwaves through his whole frame.

—CLANG—CLANG—CRACK!

Sparks flew. A hairline crack split the left shoulder armor.

『Minor damage to sector 2-B. System stability: 87%.』

Ren leapt back, reassessing his position. "Two at once? Shit... neither of them are amateurs."

The spear-wielder lunged again—this time a pinpoint thrust. Ren tried to deflect it, but the tip scraped the side of his abdominal plating, nearly breaching the outer shell.

At the same time, the twin-blade elite moved silently, trying to flank. Ren twisted on instinct, firing a quick repulsor burst from his hip—just enough to force the guy back.

But Ren knew—he couldn’t keep this up for long.

"Ultro, we need a new scheme."

『Engaging Duel Mode. Movement sync: active.』

At once, Ren’s HUD lit up with duel projections. Attack patterns, enemy motion paths, optimal strike points—mapped and tracked in real time.

Ren pushed forward again.

"If this is how it’s gonna be... let’s finish them one by one."

With a burst from his micro jet boosters, Ren dashed toward the spear-wielder. This time, he didn’t wait for the attack—he struck first, combining a sharp left punch and a sweeping kick. The battle shifted into a deadly dance—cutting-edge tech clashing with raw, honed skill.

And the twin-blade elite... was still watching.