Facing a hundred pairs of trusting eyes, Robert took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down.
He was just a game dev, completely clueless about real-world military command. Fortunately, he still understood basic army organization. Moreover, having played so many strategy games, his theoretical experience was quite rich.
"Attention, everyone!" Robert cleared his throat, his voice more steady and powerful than he expected. "Now, I issue my first order! All veteran players who participated in the first closed beta, step forward!"
Asasin, Cain, and nine others immediately stepped out.
"The nine of you will serve as temporary Squad Leaders. Begin grouping now; each Squad Leader will lead nine new players to form a combat squad, making a total of ten squads."
As soon as he finished speaking, grouping information automatically popped up on all players' system panels, clearly the system had made the quickest allocation based on his command.
However, just as the grouping was completed, a discordant voice rang out.
In the Seventh Squad's formation, a new player raised his hand with a bitter expression: "Um… Company Commander, report!"
"Speak," Robert looked at him.
"Are you sure… you want that ogryn to command us?" The player pointed at the burly, intellectually challenged Cain, who stood at the front of their squad.
"Pfft—"
At these words, not only did Robert fall into a brief silence, but the other players also couldn't hold back, and a wave of suppressed laughter echoed through the trench.
Only Cain himself, glaring at the questioning player, said in a booming voice, "What's wrong? You look down on me? Come on, let's fight!"
As he spoke, he swayed his body, which was thicker than an ordinary person's thigh and covered in heavy metal plates.
The player glanced at Cain's attire, which was comparable to light armor, and wisely shrank his head, retreating back into the formation, muttering, "I won't stoop to an ogryn's level…"
"Ahem…" Robert coughed twice, breaking the awkward and amusing situation. "How about this, I'll manually adjust it."
He scanned the crowd, a new idea forming: "All players who like or are good at close combat, raise your hands!"
About eight or nine players sparsely raised their hands, including Cain. Most of them had combative eyes, or simply enjoyed the thrill of "blade meeting flesh."
"Very good." Robert nodded. "The Seventh Squad will be re-grouped, consisting of all close-combat players, with Cain as the squad leader. You will serve as the company's reserve and assault team. Wherever the battle is critical, or a counter-charge is needed, the Seventh Squad will go in for a melee!"
This arrangement was reasonable and logical, letting those skilled at something do what they were good at. The players all nodded in agreement, and those assigned to the close-combat squad were even more eager, looking quite excited.
Next, Robert, following the deployment methods of Astra Militarum veterans he remembered, assigned the remaining nine squads to various key positions in the trench, making simple arrangements for crossfire and key defensive areas. After all this, the defensive posture of the position finally looked respectable.
With the orders delivered, the trench fell silent for a while, with only the sound of the wind and the occasional distant echoes of artillery fire remaining. The players checked their weapons, awaiting the enemy's appearance.
Squatting in the temporarily dug command post, Robert couldn't help but start reviewing his sudden promotion to Company Commander. Regardless, a new recruit who had only joined the army a few days ago, being promoted to commander of a hundred-man company on the front lines, and entrusted with the heavy responsibility of holding the position, was an extremely unusual occurrence in any serious military context.
Perhaps in other games, it could be explained with "it's just a game," but in this incredibly realistic game, Robert believed that every NPC's decision had a strict logic behind it. Otherwise, the game dev wouldn't have such great confidence to let players mess around in the game world.
'Could it be… that the war situation has deteriorated beyond repair?' A terrifying thought flashed through his mind.
He recalled that even his initial ten-man squad was personally picked up by a high-ranking official like a Commissar. Could it be… that all other mid-to-low-ranking officers of this regiment had already died?
Perhaps, in addition, the position they were now defending had lost its original strategic importance and become a "chicken rib" that could be discarded at any time. If this were the case, it would explain why Commissar Walter would throw a bunch of green recruits here and casually assign an "old soldier" who had only fought for three days to be their Company Commander. It was merely a low-cost utilization of waste.
Robert shook his head, casting these negative speculations out of his mind. Overthinking would not help complete the mission; the most urgent task now was to improve his and the entire company's survival capabilities.
He decided to check out the newly opened "Faction Store" to see what his meager merits could buy.
However, when he mentally opened the exchange list and saw the glittering options at the very top, he was completely stunned.
"Holy crap!" he blurted out, "as a Company Commander… can exchange for a 'Baneblade' super-heavy tank?! Are we an elite reinforced company of the Cadian Shock Troops?!"
His shout immediately attracted the attention of several nearby players.
"What? Baneblade? Company Commander, let me see, let me see!"
"Damn, you really can exchange for it! This exchange list is too awesome, isn't it? Is the Company Commander's authority really that great?"
"Hiss… that's so damn expensive… it would take ages to accumulate that much merit…"
The players gathered around and took a look at the astronomical merit requirements, all gasping in unison.
Robert also recovered from his initial shock, scratched his head, and raised a very practical question: "Even if I really save enough merit to exchange for it… where would this Baneblade drive from?"
The players couldn't answer this question.
But in the depths of the warp, imperceptible to mortals, the God of Information, Terrabyte, heard this question and couldn't help but smile faintly.
Where else would it drive from? Of course, I, the "game dev" hidden behind the scenes, would personally conjure it for you.
Terrabyte even hoped that players would exchange for more things, especially these complex war machines. Each act of creation out of nothing was a deep application and practice of His authority, greatly enhancing His mastery and understanding of the essence of His power.
Moreover, all of this happened in the real universe, and the energy fluctuations would be diluted by the vast material world, so there was no need to worry about making too much noise and attracting the attention of those greedy and filthy "neighbors" in the warp.