Most of Mars was like a desolate Gobi desert, its rocks and soil weathered over hundreds of millions of years, giving it a unique, magnificent landscape.
This was a seemingly boundless plain, with only occasional slopes and a few low, rocky hills obstructing the view.
Of course, that hardly mattered; having waited until nightfall to move, Pegmont couldn't see very far anyway.
In the night of this alien world, across this strange land, he was doing only one thing: running.
Truth be told, Armstrong the Mitlian had only taken a few steps on the surface of the moon back then, whereas Pegmont had left millions, if not tens of millions, of footprints on the Martian surface over the past several months. Each footprint marked humanity's first step, second step, third step on Mars...
*Whoosh!* Amid the roar of his source energy apparatus, a figure suddenly moved like lightning, sweeping in an arc along the fringe of a battle swarm of several hundred Great Spikes like a boomerang, curving in and curving right back out.
"Almost slammed right into them again. Fuck! What's wrong with these dumbass Great Spikes today? Why are they pinpointing me every single time?"
Pegmont pondered in bewilderment as he shook off his pursuers.
His confusion stemmed from the fact that over the past few months of nocturnal raids, he had hardly ever been spotted, every venture going off without a hitch. Yet today, the situation had abruptly changed.
This was already the sixth swarm of Great Spikes he had run into tonight.
Emerging from the darkness, they lay in wait along the path of Pegmont's movement, lunging into a crazed collective assault the instant they crossed paths...
Fortunately, Pegmont could still run.
Barring any extraordinary, unforeseen accidents, he was likely the fastest living creature currently on this planet.
He could even easily outrun a black-armored Great Spike without channeling source energy.
To conserve source energy blocks, Pegmont relied purely on his physical speed when he wasn't encountering Great Spikes. Only when he collided headlong into a swarm would he engage his apparatus to veer off and escape.
Pegmont had no desire to get bogged down in combat. Even in his current weakened state, he was still fully capable of easily wiping out a mixed swarm of several hundred Great Spikes of various ranks, but he adamantly refused to fight.
Fighting was not his objective tonight. Furthermore, combat consumed vastly more source energy blocks than fleeing did, and Pegmont had fewer and fewer blocks left.
Run, keep running, shifting directions on instinct, running without pause...
After more than four continuous hours of running, aside from the Great Spike swarms he bumped into now and then, there were only endless rocks and dirt. Pegmont hadn't found a single thing.
In this suspected area, there wasn't even one of the Great Spike craft that had separated from the fleet during arrival to land.
"Ah, where the hell am I?"
People easily lost their sense of direction on boundless plains, let alone at night on an utterly foreign planet.
When Pegmont finally realized this problem, his heart clenched tight. "Fuck, am I actually lost on Mars? Crap!"
"I can't let those bastards from Stream Vanguard find out about this, no matter what! Otherwise, how am I ever going to mock that block of wood again?"
Compared to losing his final pretext to mock Stream Vanguard, Pegmont wasn't worried in the slightest about failing to find his way back to the T-class craft. Everything he owned, including his communicator, was on his person today.
Besides, he was already on an alien planet with so little luggage—wouldn't making a home anywhere be the same?
If all else failed, he could just dig a hole and live in it.
The real problem was: "Did I run all the way to the other hemisphere?"
To Pegmont's mind, since Mars was also a sphere, it ought to be like Blue Star, having different hemispheres and different faces. "If I've run so far that I've lost myself and can't find my way back, what am I going to eat from now on?"
"Wait, what's this?"
Fortunately, there were no strong winds tonight. Pegmont soon noticed the cautionary mark left by someone on the nearby ground—a streak left by a human slamming on the brakes to swerve.
Given that there was no one else on Mars: "I must have been here already."
Given that Pegmont had spent the last four-plus hours steering entirely by instinct: "So my fucking instinct is just a giant circle?"
By now, there were no swarms of Great Spikes in the area, nor any pursuers behind him. Pegmont simply slowed his pace, walking and pondering while idly looking around.
"Is Mars big? How long would it take to search every inch of it?"
"Wait, is it bigger or smaller than Blue Star?"
"It should be bigger. Much bigger." Pegmont's rationale for deciding Mars was bigger was simple: usually, when people talked about alien planets, their subconscious reaction was, *Whoa, outer space, so awesome.* And awesome things were mostly big.
"In that case, should I keep searching?"
"And if I do keep searching, where should I look?"
For some reason, no more Great Spike swarms appeared around him. Pegmont strolled along the night-shrouded surface of Mars, his pace gradually taking on the easy, unhurried air of an after-dinner walk, utterly leisurely.
He was neither worried nor anxious anymore. Given the reality of his current situation, he didn't even know which direction to head next or specifically what he was looking for, so worrying and hurrying were pointless.
...
Meanwhile, the other group of "aliens" on Mars—specifically the Red Shoulders bearing command responsibility—were gripped by a tense and resolute state of mind.
"Has he discovered it?"
"Yes. Otherwise, he would not have returned here after shaking off our squads."
"Then what is he doing now? Why does he suddenly seem so relaxed?"
"Is it because of his past impression, thinking that we are completely vulnerable?"
"He could also be feigning it. Daie said that humans are a species skilled in deception. Perhaps he intends to use this relaxed posture to inch closer to the traction field while we hesitate, and then launch a sudden assault. As you all know, he is extremely fast."
"Then what do we do? He's coming this way."
"There is no other way, and there is no retreat. We can only fight to the death."
"Yes. We must never allow him near the traction field."
After more than two months of covert, grueling construction, a medium-sized traction field was on the verge of completion. As long as this towing operation could summon one or two Daie, they could secure the next traction, and the next after that... until Miwang and its fleet arrived.
...
*Whoosh... Boom!*
As the first human to set foot on Mars, that night, Mr. Pegmont was strolling across Mars when, completely out of the blue, an alien spaceship slammed down toward his head.
---
*Buzz!* Pegmont's apparatus flared in an emergency reflex, and twisting his body into a backward drift, he avoided the direct impact of the falling ship by a hair's breadth.
However—
*Boom!*
*Boom...*
With virtually no pause, a second Great Spike craft slammed down.
Then a third, a fourth...
What had been an utterly peaceful expanse and a tranquil Martian night instantly transformed into a battlefield resembling a star war.
One space warship after another came crashing down continuously.
Sand, dirt, and shattered stone blasted skyward from the ground, filling the air like an explosion.
"No, they're not crashing—those bastards are trying to crush me to death!"
Looking up as he dodged in a panic, Pegmont saw at least a dozen small and medium Great Spike craft hovering and circling above, ready to plunge onto him at any moment.
At the same time, *"Skrr-aagh..."*—a roar surged like a tidal wave.
The collective shriek of at least five thousand Great Spikes.
The ground quaked as dense swarms of Great Spikes suddenly surged out from below the horizon, appearing dead ahead and charging at Pegmont in a frenzied onslaught.
*Fuck!* Pegmont thought. *So you finally couldn't take my sneak attacks anymore and organized an ambush to surround and kill me today! And here I thought you bastards were secretly building a traction field!*
However: *Do these stupid creatures really think they can trap me like this?*
"You haven't even closed the damn circle, dumbasses!"
"As if I'd fight you to the death. Heh."
His mind made up, Pegmont spun on his heel and, with a hiss and a roar from his apparatus, bolted at top speed.
"..."
Watching his figure vanish into the distance leaving a trail of dust, the Red Shoulders were left stunned.
"Wait... didn't he come to fight a decisive battle and attack the traction field?"
Based on what they had learned from the battle at the South Pole on Blue Star, the Red Shoulders believed that humans were always willing to pay any price to stop a traction operation.
"Indeed. Back then, this strange pink human even took part in the assault on the Pole."
"Then why did he give up so easily today?"
While the Red Shoulders were puzzling over this, Pegmont was also thinking hard as he sprinted for dear life: *Wait, what did I just think of? What did I say I thought they were doing...?*
*Oh. Secretly building a traction field.*
"...Holy fuck!"
*A traction field.*
*They didn't ambush me just to surround and kill me.*
*It's a traction field.*
*It's definitely right there.*
Chapter 875