Editing HEAVY OBJECT:Volume1 Chapter 1 (section)

===Part 1===

In the end, war was nothing more than battles between Objects.

A flesh and blood human carrying around a carefully-maintained rifle could do nothing.

Even if tens of thousands or hundreds of thousands of soldiers gathered or even if tons of tanks and fighters were prepared, that 50 meter monster would casually wipe them all out. Some of them could move around even after a direct hit from a nuke or two, so it seemed insane to seriously try to fight them.

That was why everyone just left the main role to an Object.

By shoving the pain-in-the-ass main role onto the monster, they could leisurely watch from the sidelines.

That may have been why the 800 soldiers filling the base zone, a base that specialized in maintenance, were so relaxed despite being on the front line of a battlefield.

The area was called a base, but all they had to do was efficiently maintain the Object and see that it was dispatched.

The flesh and blood soldiers only had to guard the giant weapon as it was being maintained during the short time it was there and they would be rewarded as heroes who protected their country with no thought to their own lives.

With the Object there, they were perfectly safe.

The Object that protected them was like a tree that grew gold. Just by watching it, it would defeat enemy after enemy after enemy. The soldiers insisted that all that was the result of the entire base zone’s work so they should all be rewarded, and so their bank accounts became overflowing with money paid from the people’s taxes.

In reality, the war was carried out by the Object alone.

As long as it was there, their lives and futures were basically guaranteed.

It was because they felt that way that a panic fell over all the soldiers watching from the base zone in the instant their Object burst into flames and blew up.

In the current age, war was nothing more than battles between Objects.

That meant that the defeat of one’s own Object was always a possibility when the enemy also had an Object.

The white Alaskan snow storm obstructed their view, but they could still clearly see the red flames and black smoke.

The ejection device shot the pilot girl known as an Elite out into the sky, but no one was going to save a now-useless loser.

More important things were on their minds.

To reiterate, in the current age, war was nothing more than battles between Objects. Lining up tanks, fighters, and the other types of weapons used before would only be easily blown away by the 50 meter monsters that were Objects.

Now that their own Object had been destroyed, the enemy’s Object could move about freely.

What that meant was simple.

They would be massacred.

The overwhelming stream of weapons fire would send their flesh, bones, and organs flying into the air in the hopeless and definite massacre.

Nothing was left for them but to flee. Yet even if they unhesitatingly chose to flee, it would be a miracle if even a tenth of the soldiers within the base zone survived. Not a single one of them recalled the most basic of orders within the military – to stand their ground and hold the line.

A hellish game of tag began.

It was a ridiculous game of tag between a monster over 50 meters long and tiny humans.