Chapter 99: Congratulations, You're a Tank (Patreon)

“Tank?” Saren inquired, clearly surprised.

The crowd of thousands began to murmur. The Operator’s anticipated loud applause did not happen. Instead, a tense, heavy silence settled over the large plaza.

What the hell is going on? Why is everyone so quiet?

“Forgive me, Operator,” Saren said carefully. “Are you implying you have not yet reached the Level 10 threshold?”

How the fuck does he know that? She shot a subtle, almost imperceptible glance toward Dan, desperately hoping he would realize she needed a lifeline again.

Dan noticed her look. Without hesitation, he stepped forward and positioned himself in Saren’s line of sight to draw the attention.

"Listen... as everyone probably knows by now, we’re not from this world," Dan started, his tone a little rushed. "My friends and I only survived in there thanks to the Operator. But, well, we’d really appreciate some help understanding how things work out here. All we did inside was fight to stay alive. We don't want to bother her right now with teaching us the basics of your world."

“Of course,” Saren replied, his bureaucratic poise returning. “The escort assigned to you will answer all your questions. My team is listening to this conversation as we speak, and I’m sure they’re already gathering the necessary study materials.”

Dan nodded, taking a quick breath before pushing forward. "So, uh, that brings up my other question. Why is everyone so shocked that she’s a Tank? And how did you just... instantly guess her level?"

A thousand points to Dan. Thank you!

“Many of the people here, including me, expected the first person to emerge to have already opened their Evolution Tree,” Saren explained, gesturing vaguely toward the crowd. “According to historical documents, that is only achieved starting at Level 10… You’re still a Tank, so you’re clearly not level 10 yet.”

I consulted with the Nanobots, and they informed me that they do not have any information on that. It’s possible this information will be unlocked for them when you reach that level.

Shitty Guardian, you could have given me that information earlier. Is that why the system and the Guardian kept talking about the change waiting for me at Level 10?

“But those are details we can teach the Realmbounds later,” Saren said, shifting his sharp gaze back to the Operator. “Before we proceed, Operator, the soldier behind me has one final request.”

“There’s no need to tiptoe around it. Just ask your questions,” she snapped, letting a hint of annoyance slip into her voice to mask her unease. “My group and I are exhausted and want to rest.”

“He wishes to know whether he might test your strength. He is one of our finest warriors, but the two times the gates to the Evolution Zone opened, he did not have the fortune to enter.”

We already knew this world was indoctrinated for warriors. Everything you did in the Bioresearch Lab was meant to prepare you for a situation exactly like this. Say yes.

The Operator kept her face perfectly still, though beneath her ruined clothes, her body screamed in protest. She was running on fumes, her muscles aching from the brutal deathmatch with Eron. The last thing she wanted was another fight. But as she looked at the expectant guard and the eerily silent crowd, the tactical reality set in. If she backed down now, claiming fatigue, the “Tank” illusion would shatter instantly.

She forced herself to stand a little taller, ignoring the exhaustion creeping into her body. “Fine. Tell me how you want to do this.”

The instant she spoke, the huge crowd burst into enthusiastic, frenzied applause, breaking the awkward silence.

“It won’t be a real fight,” Saren clarified, stepping aside. “He only wants to test your strength as a Tank. He aims to evaluate your defense and attack against his own. He’s trained his entire life for this role.”

The soldier stepped forward. He was huge, easily two meters tall. His black armor wasn’t thick or bulky; it was tightly fitted to his body, giving him mobility without compromising protection.

“Under different circumstances, I would ask for a real fight, Operator,” the soldier said, stopping a few paces away. He bowed his head in respect. “But I see you need to rest. It wouldn’t be fair to fight today. Just let me test your defense with a strike, then I’ll take a hit from you.”

Great. I brought them to a whole new planet, and the first people we meet are a bunch of battle junkies.

The Operator glanced back at her group. “Hey, don't worry, guys. It's just a hit. Everything's gonna be okay.”

She expected them to look at least a little nervous. The guy was a giant, but Dan just stood there with his arms crossed. Lessa was stretching her neck and shoulders, looking exhausted yet completely unbothered by the situation. Cat ignored everything, distracted, staring up at the bright sky and the colossal statues in absolute awe. It was her first time seeing the outside world.

Not a single one of them looked worried. Judging by their reactions after watching her rip biological horrors apart with her bare hands in the lab, a big guy in a metal suit clearly didn’t impress them.

“Alright. Do it,” she said.

The soldier widened his stance. He lunged forward. He twisted his hips and drove a heavy, steel-clad fist straight into her chest.

CRACK.

The Operator didn’t move a single millimeter. Her boots stayed firmly planted in the grass. The heavy blow hit her chest and stopped. Her engineered body absorbed the impact completely, registering no pain.

I suppose he’s a monster to someone who hasn’t Evolved. That hit would have shattered a regular person’s ribs to pieces. But right now, it just feels like a gentle tap on the back.

The crowd gasped in unison, a wave of sound sweeping through the thousands present. In the balconies of the spires, nobles also reacted, their fine silks fluttering as they clung to the rails, all leaning forward to catch a glimpse. Even the ships were affected; passengers inside the hovering transports at the plaza’s edge pressed their faces against the reinforced glass in their excitement. Saren’s bureaucratic calm shattered, eyes fixed on her unmoving boots.

“My turn,” the Operator said.

She didn’t bother pretending to have a martial arts guard or a boxer’s stance, as it would look terrible and alert experienced fighters to her lack of training. Instead, she simply pulled her right arm straight back and planted her feet to shift her weight.

Don't punch a hole in his chest. Just give him a taste.

She shifted her weight and let the engineered strength in her muscles uncoil. She punched him. Steel caved under her knuckles with a metallic shriek. The two-meter-tall soldier was lifted off his feet. He flew backward, crashing into the floor. His armor scraped against the stone as he skidded for several meters before coming to a violent stop.

He didn’t get up right away, but he rolled onto his side and coughed violently. A thick glob of dark blood splattered onto the floor. A deep, fist-sized dent was embedded right in the center of his sleek black armor, causing the entire plaza to freeze. Everyone stood still. 

Then a single voice from the back of the mob screamed.

"TANK!"

Another voice joined.

"TANK!"

Within seconds, thousands of people were chanting the word. They slammed their fists against their chests and stomped their feet, making the ground itself vibrate with their frenzy.

The Operator didn’t wait for the chanting to die down. She sprinted straight toward the downed soldier.

Shit, I think I overdid it. I feel ridiculous for thinking I could measure my strength when I’ve never tried to control it.

She slid to a stop next to him, grabbing his armored shoulder. The dent in his chest plate was deep, and a steady stream of dark blood leaked down his chin. “Hey. You breathing in there? Come on, up you go.”

The Operator grabbed his arm and hauled him up. The weight itself was nothing to her, but the massive height difference made the leverage ridiculous. With his legs giving out, the two-meter giant had to hunch over at a sharp, awkward angle just to rest his upper body against her shoulder. He coughed, spitting a glob of blood onto the floor.

“Hah… haha… Hahahaha!” He threw his head back, coughing violently through a wide, unhinged grin. “Incredible!”

“Why are you laughing? Are you crazy? I almost killed you,” she muttered.

He gripped her shoulder, his heavy hand shaking from adrenaline. “The stories… they don’t do it justice. To feel that kind of power…”

Two medics rushed out from the sidelines, quickly taking his weight off the Operator’s shoulders. He ignored them completely. His eyes were wide, locked onto the Operator.

“You gave me a goal today, Operator,” he wheezed, his voice cracking. “I will enter the Evolution Zone. I have to experience it.”

As Harren mentioned in the forest, his church caused this chaos by indoctrinating the world into warring factions.

And, apparently, this is our new home now.

The Operator let out a short sigh. "Good luck with that, big guy. Just try not to bleed out before that happens.”

“Hahaha—agh,” the soldier winced, clutching his dented chest as the medics dragged him away, never losing that manic grin.

Before she could turn back to her group, huge shadows swept across the plaza. She looked up. Heavily decorated transport ships were descending rapidly from the upper altitudes, heading straight for their position. 

Saren stepped up beside her. He raised a hand and made a sharp, slashing motion across his throat toward the perimeter guards. “Cut the transmission. Now.” 

“No one is listening to us right now,” Saren said, stepping uncomfortably close. “The Vanguard Foundation is strictly neutral. Our only mandate is keeping your people alive. If you actually belonged to a Noble Faction, a Martial House, or a Mercenary Guild, their transports would have arrived the second someone recognized you.” He looked up at the massive shadows sweeping over the plaza. “But no one came.”

If he realized that, those arriving also figured the same thing.

“Please tell me the truth right now: to whom do you pledge allegiance?”

Lying it is. Hope this doesn't come back to bite me.

“No one. I work alone. The gate opened, everyone panicked, and I saw my chance. I used the chaos to slip inside. It’s really that simple. Am I in trouble for that? Pretty sure I’m not the first opportunist to pull that trick.”

“People pulled that exact stunt during the second opening,” Saren said quickly. “They changed the laws right after. Now it’s strictly invite-only. But we can testify that the rule wasn’t in effect when you slipped in. That gives you an alibi.”

“So, what is going to happen to us?” she asked.

“Public opinion of the Nobles blocking that zone is in the gutter. And you? You’re the First Traveler. They won’t dare attack you openly, but they’ll use every trick in the book to claim you. Our protection is limited, but we’ll do everything we can to keep you safe. We need to leave. Now.”

He tapped a device on his wrist, likely sending a message. Above, a small, aggressive-looking craft swooped toward them. It didn’t hum smoothly; it shrieked. This compact, heavily armored vessel was sheathed in shiny brass and reinforced copper plating. Its hull housed complex networks of high-pressure pipes that vented blinding blasts of white steam to slow its descent. It was a mechanical beast, built from interlocking gears and thermal power.

The steam-powered vessel thudded onto the plaza as its boarding ramp came down. Meanwhile, the ships from the other faction also touched down across the square.

"Go!" Saren yelled. A dozen of Saren’s elite guards rushed forward, forming a tight, shielded wall of metal and bodies between the Operator and the approaching faction ships.

The ramps of the massive ships slammed into the plaza. Dozens of figures marched out. The Operator scanned the incoming groups, instantly recognizing several crests and uniform styles. A few of those outfits belonged to factions she absolutely did not want to encounter again.

A towering man, draped in ornate, gilded armor, stepped ahead of the pack. He didn’t bother looking at the Operator. His eyes bored straight into Saren.

"Is the transmission cut?" he demanded.

"Yes, Your Highness," Saren replied.

“Good. My brother and nephews are inside that zone,” the Vorminian noble said, finally locking his gaze on the Operator. “I need information. It is obvious she holds no allegiance. Therefore, she comes with us.”

Shit. If this guy finds out I got framed for killing a prince inside the zone and that Reth and I tossed a grenade at the other one, I am so fucked.

The Operator kept her expression completely still, forcing her heart rate down.

“We cannot allow that, Your Highness. She is a Traveler now, beyond belonging to any single house. Unless you wish to stoke the hatred these people already harbor for your faction, I suggest you wait for the official assembly to ask your questions.”

Saren has officially become one of my favorite people on this planet.

Before the noble could argue, Saren raised his voice, addressing the other heavily armed groups closing in. “The same applies to all of you. The Operator will be escorted by Vanguard forces. She has matters to attend to within the city. Once she is settled, a formal meeting will be convened.” He pointed toward the colossal gateway. “Besides, she is merely the first. Others could emerge at any moment.”

The prospect of missing the next arrival caused hesitation. A soft murmur ran through the factions as they rethought their strategy. Several groups looked at each other, their focus returning to the Evolution zone gateway. The standoff eased. Some nodded respectfully toward the Operator, signaling their escorts to retreat.

The Vorminian noble didn’t look pleased. He turned his back. "Make sure that assembly happens soon, Saren.” He marched up his boarding ramp. Seconds later, the opulent ship lifted off, its repulsors scorching the plaza tiles as it tore a jagged path into the clouds.

Saren let out a long breath, rubbing his temples hard before adjusting his skewed collar. He turned toward the group.

"Alright. Time to get you somewhere you can actually rest."