Fang Tianhe's words left many puzzled. Few knew about Lin Xinghai's unique physique, yet the captain's praise was unmistakable—he valued Lin highly.
Roger, pleased, began making introductions.
"This is our deputy head, Shen Han.""Captain of the second team, Wu Yan.""Captain of the third team, Xu Haihui."
Lin Xinghai greeted each in turn. Shen Han, strikingly beautiful, rivaled Liu Miaomiao in looks, but her cold demeanor kept strangers at bay. Wu Yan, a towering wall of muscle, exuded raw power even beyond Fang Tianhe. Xu Haihui seemed ordinary, save for his sharp, wolfish eyes.
"The mission's urgent. Since everyone's here, let's move." Fang Tianhe tapped his wrist computer, sending his mecha Splitting Sky into an armored vehicle. Shen Han followed with her ice-blue Tian Shuang.
The mercenaries quickly assembled, boarding under their captains' lead. Lin Xinghai, assigned to Roger's first team, entered the roomier vehicle reserved for them.
Inside, Roger introduced his squad. When he mentioned Lin Xinghai's B-level genetic rating, envy flickered across every face.
"Looks like we'll soon have another expert," said Vice-Captain Xu Hao.
Lin Xinghai smiled modestly. "That's for later. For now, I'll be relying on everyone's protection."
His humility softened the group. Conversation flowed, and Lin soon learned the truth: even C-level ratings were considered excellent; most mercenaries barely reached D-level. Only Fang Tianhe and Shen Han shared his B-class standing.
The chatter ended as the convoy left the Star Shield Refuge. The mood inside hardened—faces grim, eyes fixed on the wasteland outside or the weapons in their laps.
"Time to gear up." Roger strode to a wall panel, unlocked it with iris scan, and revealed a rack of equipment: cold weapons above, firearms in the middle, combat uniforms below.
"This size 75 suit should fit." He handed Lin a uniform.
Light but tough, the fabric resisted his full strength without tearing.
"Made from special fibers. Good against claws and bites, but blunt force still hurts. And this—don't lose it." Roger tossed him a vial of red serum.
"Anti-venom?" Lin guessed.
"Correct. Bitten or scratched, inject within ten minutes or you'll turn. The effect lasts an hour. After that, another bite means another dose. First one's free. After that—100 points per vial."
Lin strapped it close to his chest. "Understood."
Roger gestured to the rack. "Choose a weapon—one cold, one hot."
Lin's eyes lingered on the firearms: pistols, rifles, and a long sniper rifle. He turned back. "Brother Luo, what do you recommend?"
Roger smirked at the honorific. "Best to match your attributes. Power-types favor big blades or axes, paired with something light but strong. For example, this pistol—" He tapped the oversized sidearm.
Lin blinked. "Wait… you call that a pistol? Looks more like a hand cannon."