Alien Relic Hunter

In the West Nine District, an old warehouse with closed doors and windows.

The blades of the exhaust fan were covered with oil stains mixed with dust, and they rotated slowly, making a dull sound of "puff, puff, puff".

A young woman wearing a military green vest and baggy overalls sat on a folding stool, smoking a low-quality cigarette held between her fingertips - she smoked hard, with the bright light of the cigarette butt, the length of the cigarette It shortened at a speed visible to the naked eye, and the gray-white smoke almost enveloped her entire upper body.

"Don't pump too much, even the artificial lung can't withstand your torture... Sigh." A middle-aged man's voice came from the shadows, with a helpless sigh.

The smoking woman has short hair that reaches her ears, and a canvas military cap is slanted on her head. Although she did not wear makeup, her well-defined face, beautiful facial features, and the heroic spirit between her eyebrows gave her a very unique androgynous beauty.

However, if you look closely, you will find that her skin is actually very bad. This is a unique symbol of people who have been crawling in the wilderness all year round. Under the double erosion of the harsh environment and radiation, no matter how good the skin care products are, It can only be regarded as decoration.

The smoking woman's right arm and right leg are old-fashioned mechanical prostheses. This type of mechanical prosthesis has been discontinued long ago. In terms of sensitivity and flexibility, it does not even have one-tenth of the cyborg prosthesis.

There was originally a emblem tattooed on her left arm and shoulder. Judging from the outline, it seemed to be the emblem of an army. However, this tattoo has now been erased in an extremely rough way, leaving only strips that look like earthworms. , horrifying scars that crisscross and raise on the skin.

"Okay, the skeleton has basically been debugged. Let's sit on it and try it." The man's voice sounded again, the headlights in the warehouse turned on, and a powerful metal monster appeared in front of the woman.

This is the skeleton of a six-meter humanoid mecha without any external components. The precise structure inside is completely exposed, and the whole body displays that fascinating mechanical beauty.

The woman threw the cigarette butt on the ground, stamped it out, walked to the squatting mecha skeleton without saying a word, bent down and got into the cockpit.

"The competition is about to start in a month. Remember, be careful when starting. Don't stare at your opponent's cockpit." A middle-aged man wearing a one-piece overalls patted the beam in front of the cockpit. , said to the woman.

The woman did not respond, but lowered her head and looked at the controls in the cockpit.

"Hey, do you hear me? I asked you to be gentle and don't kill anyone again." There was a hint of anger in the middle-aged man's tone, and he couldn't help but raise his voice.

The woman still didn't make a sound.

"This is just a game, this is not a battlefield! They are just your opponents, not enemies! You don't have to kill your opponents! If you are kicked out because of this, the prize money from the game will not matter to us at all! Do you understand? ?" The middle-aged man began to roar. He hit the metal beam hard with a wrench, making a loud "bang" sound, "I have many ways to support myself, but what about you? What about you?! Without the bonus, Are you counting on that pitiful disability pension to pay for your medicine?”

He glared fiercely at the woman in the cockpit and continued—

"If you don't want to live, just tell me and I'll shoot you in the head and save you from suffering for the rest of your life! Do you hear me!"

"Got it." Only then did the woman sitting in the cockpit speak. Her voice was extremely hoarse, sounding like two pieces of rusty iron being rubbed against each other.

This kind of voice is definitely not caused by excessive smoking. No one except herself can experience the unforgettable pain... It is a blessing among misfortunes that she can still retain the ability to speak.

Hearing the woman speak, the middle-aged man's tone suddenly softened: "... As long as you know... don't force yourself too much, as long as you can enter the top four, the bonus of the top four will be enough to support a year's medical expenses. Well, if I can receive sponsorship, I can improve my living conditions..."

The middle-aged man took a few steps back, waved to the mecha and said, "Try to stand up first and pay attention to the pressure gauge of the buffer valve. Those parts are all second-hand and are quite worn."

Suddenly, there was a series of harsh friction sounds at the ankle joints of the skeleton. The middle-aged man immediately waved his hands and shouted: "Stop! Stop! I found the problem. It is that the fit between parts F085 and G667 is too tight. , I have to loosen the bolts a little and add more grease... You can come down first."

The young woman nodded and jumped out of the cockpit. To her, the crude old-fashioned mechanical prostheses were as flexible as her natural hands and feet, without affecting her movements at all.

"Major." The woman walked behind the middle-aged man and whispered.

"I'm no longer a major... don't use this title anymore." The middle-aged man waved his hand and let out a long breath.

"At that time, they planned to let you go to the academy to coach...why did you stay." The young woman asked.

"I don't want to have anything to do with the army anymore..." the middle-aged man said with some dejection, "Although my hands and feet are still sound, I can no longer go to the battlefield... I am a useless person... Maybe, I can go to the battlefield..." Being a pilot instructor is a good choice for me, but I can't watch the students I taught myself being sent to hell one by one... Just think that I am escaping from reality. ”

He took off the worn jacket and threw it on the folding stool aside. On his left shoulder, there was also a complete emblem tattoo - it was a black skull with a white noose around his neck.

If the hound saw this emblem, he would instantly recognize it. This was once the "Strangler" armored squadron known as the "Reaper" among the field troops... It's just that this squadron participated in a war ten years ago. During a large-scale encirclement and suppression operation, due to a deviation in the commander's instructions, the Strangler squadron that was supposed to be airdropped to the enemy's rear to launch a surprise attack was thrown directly into the hinterland of a dense area of ​​indigenous creatures... They were instantly killed hundreds of times. Surrounded by their own indigenous creatures, the entire army was wiped out in less than two hours.

In the post-war notification documents, there were no survivors of the Strangler Squadron, and the squadron's special designation was revoked and was not rebuilt.

As for the commander who made the fatal mistake, he disappeared as if he had evaporated.