I didn't sleep.
Again.
Because secret night breathing + army day drills + trauma is apparently my new lifestyle brand.
I sat in the back storage shed before dawn, legs crossed, half-scroll open, doing the weird rhythm.
Inhale short.
Hold low.
Tongue up.
Exhale through teeth.
Again.
Again.
Again.
By breath forty my ribs hurt.
By breath sixty my scars started burning.
By breath eighty I tasted iron in my mouth.
So, progress.
I stopped when I heard boots outside.
I shoved the scroll back under the floorboard and stood up fast.
Too fast.
Head spun.
I nearly kissed the wall.
Great.
Morning drill was worse than usual.
Spear forms.
Shield marches.
Punishment runs.
Sergeant broke-nose was in a happy mood, which is terrifying.
"Move, worms! Border pressure means no mistakes today!"
Rin whispered, "Whenever he says no mistakes, people die."
I whispered, "Comforting."
By noon we got orders.
Small patrol reinforcement.
Outer grain road.
"Low-risk movement security."
Low-risk is military for "surprise disaster."
We marched out in two files.
Me, Rin, Toma, six regulars, one junior officer with expensive gloves and zero personality.
Road was quiet.
Too quiet.
I know that's cliché, but clichés exist for a reason.
At the second marker stone, Toma muttered, "Birds stopped."
He was right.
No birds.
No insects.
No wind, almost.
Then the left tree line exploded.
Orcs hit us hard and fast.
Not a huge force.
Eight, maybe ten.
But coordinated.
Not screaming random charge.
Actual timing.
First volley dropped two of ours.
Junior officer panicked instantly.
"Form— form up! FORM—"
An axe took him in the neck mid-command.
So leadership lasted about four seconds.
We crashed into close combat.
I raised shield.
Impact.
My arm went numb.
Rin stabbed low and got one through the thigh.
Toma blocked a mace and screamed when his wrist bent wrong.
I breathed.
Not on purpose.
The weird rhythm just kicked in by itself.
Short inhale.
Hold low.
Hard exhale.
Heat hit my chest.
Then the world sharpened.
Not slow-motion anime stuff.
Just… clearer.
Footwork. Angles. Gaps.
I ducked a swing, stepped inside, thrust up under a breastplate seam.
Hit.
The orc dropped.
I stumbled back, breathing ragged.
Then I saw it.
Above the dead orc.
Faint. Red. Broken like static.
[Kill Contribution Registered]
I froze.
What?
I blinked hard.
It was gone.
An orc slammed into my shield and brought me back to reality.
I went down.
Mud in my mouth.
He raised his axe.
I rolled on instinct, grabbed dirt, shoved myself up, and jammed my spear sideways into his knee.
He roared, fell, and Rin finished him.
"MOVE!" Rin shouted. "MOVE, idiot!"
Right.
Combat.
We fell back toward the wagon.
Toma was bleeding bad.
Two regulars were already down.
One tried to run.
Arrow in the back.
Done.
The surviving orcs didn't chase immediately.
They split.
Two pressed us.
Three went straight for the grain cart.
Not random.
Objective play.
One of them shouted something in orc tongue.
I don't speak it fully, but I caught two words from the scroll notes.
"Depot" and "merit."
Merit?
They lit the grain tarp with oil fire.
Wagon went up fast.
One of them laughed and pounded his chest like he'd just completed a quest.
Then I saw it again.
Above him this time, clearer.
[War Objective Complete: Burn Grain Supply]
My blood went cold.
No.
No no no.
Another line flickered.
[Unit Reward Distributed]
I stared like my brain had crashed.
Rin grabbed my shoulder and screamed in my face, "ARLAN! WE ARE STILL DYING!"
Right.
We pulled back hard, dragging Toma.
Orcs disengaged as soon as the cart was fully burning.
No pursuit.
No slaughter finish.
They came for a task.
They did the task.
Then they left.
Like clockwork.
We made it back at dusk with half our team.
Camp medics took Toma.
Rin sat on the ground shaking.
I stood there covered in soot and blood, staring at the burning sky.
Then I whispered:
"No way."
I checked system.
"Status."
Nothing.
"Explain what I just saw."
Nothing.
Five seconds.
Ten.
Then:
[Route: Survival]
I laughed once. Sharp. Angry.
"Of course."
I went behind the barracks, leaned on the wall, and replayed it.
Kill contribution.
War objective.
Unit reward.
UI lines.
On orcs.
Clear as day.
My stomach dropped all over again.
Title-level, reality-breaking, brain-melting realization:
"What do you mean… orcs have systems?"
No answer came.
But this time I didn't need one.
I'd seen it.
And now I couldn't unsee it.