Mogansa immediately understood Fang Senyan’s intention: he was being positioned to draw attention. Logically, he should never have agreed to be used this way, yet he also knew the terrifying power of Metal and Nu! But in the last world, it was the Metal Mentor and Nu who died, while the survivor was this Sailor—whose innate ability leaned entirely toward defense!

This harsh reality solidified Mogansa’s conviction: this man could only be an ally, never an enemy!

After a flurry of thoughts raced through his mind, Mogansa coughed, drawing everyone’s attention, and boomed out:

“I am Gold A Mogansa. Many of you should have heard my name, yes? I wonder, who among you can actually engage the two monsters outside?”

As soon as these words were spoken, at least five or six people showed surprise, beginning to whisper amongst themselves. A man across from Mogansa, dressed in a leather jacket, frowned:

“I can, but first, it’s impossible to kill them, and I don’t see the need. Wouldn’t it be better to let that transport ship draw the attention of those two monsters? It would ensure a more reliable landing for the door.”

Mogansa sneered, ignoring him. A woman opposite him spoke with confidence:

“I think I can try to communicate with the pilot. If there is a counter-attack capability, I can certainly find out, but I’d like to know the reason for doing this.”

This woman clearly possessed strengths in charisma, but she evidently didn't receive a definite answer—because even Mogansa didn't grasp Fang Senyan’s true motive. However, Mogansa understood one thing: Fang Senyan wanted the two pursuing monsters attacked now. If he couldn't even accomplish the Sailor’s first request, his own value might be severely underestimated.

With a flash of thought, Mogansa drew his Gold A, fired at the three seatbelts restraining him, then reached out, gripping the metal straps, and slowly exerted force. A grating sound of tearing metal echoed as he ripped free the three metal restraints holding him, and then stood up.

“What are you doing!” several astonished voices asked. Mogansa strode nonchalantly toward the small window near the cockpit, aimed at the adjacent comm unit, and roared:

“Hey! You guys up front! Those two alien bastards have wiped out at least twenty of our brothers, and they look like they’re about to succeed again! Are we just supposed to sit here and watch?”

The pilot bellowed back:

“You think I don’t want to blow those things to hell? Damn it, I swear on my son’s baseball cap, if this were a Valkyrie-class escort vessel, I’d launch eight H.A.L. missiles in an instant to make those two Parasitic Spore Dragons regret their lives! But this is a transport ship, damn it, even if it’s a specially reinforced one! Last thing I have to say is: get back in your seats and buckle up!”

Mogansa shrugged, sounding disappointed:

“Fine. I guess all I can do now is pray for them.”

The pilot took a breath and suddenly added:

“Wait, I remember when they reinforced this ship, Old Nick seemed to install a Camille machine gun, but they rushed the takeoff before he could connect it to the fire control system. If you’re confident in yourself, I can open the firing station, but you’ll have to aim manually—honestly, I don’t recommend it.”

A sinister grin spread across Mogansa’s face:

“Just wait and see the show.”

The pilot didn't turn around but held up a thumb, pressing some unseen button. A long hiss of escaping air came from the partition, and then a seat resembling a cockpit chair rotated down from above. Mogansa climbed into it brazenly, ignoring everyone, and the swivel chair slowly lifted him back up. The man in the leather jacket looked thoroughly unimpressed but didn't dare be the first to question him, indicating that the might of Mogansa’s Gold A was certainly famous.

Soon, bursts of tracer fire began spitting out from above the transport ship, pouring directly onto the body of one Parasitic Spore Dragon. It was clearly visible that the unprepared creature was hit, lost its balance, tumbled uncontrollably, and let out a piercing shriek. A large amount of thick green fluid oozed from the wounds on its body, turning into small green specks in the vacuum of space before eventually evaporating.

An excited whistle came from inside the cockpit:

“Whoa, not bad, buddy! When we get back to base, I’ll buy you a drink, and I’ll introduce you to Mary—she’s a real handful!”

Then the tracer fire splashed onto the other Parasitic Spore Dragon. This one was relentlessly attacking the transport vessel, but it seemed prepared; it flapped its wings, deflecting the shots, though the membrane of its wing was pierced with a few holes. It then executed an incredibly agile turn and easily dove toward the transport ship where Fang Senyan and his group were located.

Just then, the tracer fire stopped. Mogansa had paused his shooting! Was the weapon malfunctioning?

Just as the Parasitic Spore Dragon was about to reach within a hundred meters of the transport, everyone could see its wrinkled, hideous skin begin to inflate, synthesizing the glands for its projectile attack. Suddenly, an even denser hail of bullets burst forth, lashing against the creature like an energy whip! The concentrated depleted uranium rounds mercilessly splattered its body with green ichor, sending it tumbling away, only capable of roaring in frustration from a distance.

As the two Spore Dragons, having taken a beating, gathered together, the pilot upfront let out a long breath, gritting his teeth:

“Mates, dare to follow?”

With that, he shoved the control stick forward. The exterior of the transport ship began to glow a blinding fiery red—it was entering the planet’s atmosphere. The two Parasitic Spore Dragons, having only engaged in space combat, circled twice and then flew away unwillingly. The seat from above rotated down, and Mogansa jumped off, scanning the area with a cold, arrogant smile before returning to his post.

At this moment, the pilot began broadcasting loudly again:

“Hello! Is this 003? Are you alright? No, no, God’s glory isn't everywhere, and it certainly didn’t grace you just now. It was Old Mac’s Camille machine gun and one brave soldier who saved you. Ah-oh, I see smoke coming from your engine housing. Yes, yes, hydraulics must have failed. Looks like an emergency landing is your only option. Good luck.”

As he spoke, the troop carrier, trailing thick black smoke, visibly tilted to the left and went out of control. However, it appeared the alert landing wouldn't be too difficult. All the Contractors looked rather disappointed, as there was no doubt that if this transport could have landed with them, the soldiers aboard would have been a formidable asset. Only Fang Senyan watched the departing troop carrier, deep in thought.

Soon, the transport plunged into the atmosphere. Barren mountains, yellow sand, and broken flats rushed by below. After flying for less than three minutes, a small base constructed of steel appeared ahead. Built amidst the rolling yellow desert, it stood out starkly, with six dedicated surface-to-air missile launchers rotating ceaselessly at its four corners. The pilot turned back, shrugging:

“Folks, welcome to Planet P. Given that the area ahead is crawling with those damned bug-spit aerial spore towers, Hydralisk explosion-dragons, and other disgusting monsters, this outpost platform is the end of your journey. The Commander will read out your mission directives next. You have one minute to exit the cabin after landing. Oh, by the way, brave soldier, I still don’t know your name.”

Mogansa’s thick lips cracked into a grin, revealing his white teeth:

“I am Mogansa Rhem. Riding in your ship was a truly pleasant experience.”

The pilot winked and tossed a tin harmonica back to Mogansa, who caught it easily:

“Help me get this to the pilot of that other ship, Dundee. You did a great job. I thank you on behalf of all the passengers on that vessel. Come visit me at the base if you get the chance.”

Mogansa simultaneously received a notification:

“You have earned 1000 Universal Points.”

“You have acquired the item: Harmonica crafted by Kit the Pilot. This harmonica was made by Kit using various scrap materials. Though rough, it is remarkably original.”

At this moment, the transport began its slow, careful landing on the top platform of the steel outpost. Visible within the base were at least thirty CVs (Construction Vehicle-Engineering) zipping around the entire structure, their welding torches blazing, constantly reinforcing and welding the base. The blinding flashes of arc light intermittently illuminated the view.

It was clear they were rushing to reinforce the base. On the tall, five-meter steel perimeter wall surrounding the base, three bunkers were already fully constructed, and two more were actively under construction. These bunkers offered reliable protection for the vulnerable machine gunners, allowing for in-combat repairs even under attack, and each could output immense damage in a short span.