Reborn as an A-Rank Guide: Trapped By The Crazy Sentinels

The moment that familiar voice echoed through the air, Xander recognized its owner almost instantly.

It was Nyl—his former brother-in-arms, a man with whom he had walked through fire and fought shoulder-to-shoulder on the battlefield.

Xander raised his head in utter disbelief. Rain also recognized Nyl right away. The only one who looked utterly lost was Brandon, who had joined District 616 squad much later and had never met him.

Bunny’s eyes filled with confusion. If this was someone they knew, why were weapons drawn? Keeping her guard up, she trained her rifle straight at Nyl without a second thought.

Standing behind Nyl were several other men who appeared to be Sentinels as well—each dressed in a fierce, layered wasteland punk aesthetic with intimidating air around them.

A punk-styled man standing beside Nyl swept his sharp gaze over the four of them before locking onto the small figure of Bunny standing in the center.

He had caught the distinct scent of Guide pheromones.

A Sentinel’s sense for Guide pheromones was as razor-sharp as a shark catching the scent of blood in the open sea—especially for a pack of wild dogs like them, long deprived of proper soothing and reliant solely on low-grade suppressants to keep their madness at bay.

The punk man chuckled softly, his dangling earrings swaying gently with his movement.

”Aha, looks like there’s an adorable little Guide here.”

What a pleasant surprise.

He lowered the rifle resting on his shoulder into his grip, throwing a sideways glance at Nyl beside him. ”Let’s make this quick. Don’t waste time.”

Once they got their hands on that Guide, these Sentinels would meekly hand over every bit of their supplies. After that, they could slaughter them all—leaving no survivors behind.

Marauders were notoriously ruthless, always cutting down every root to eliminate future troubles.

Five long years had passed since Nyl deserted the Tower base.

Xander had heard zero news about his whereabouts, assuming he had long since perished in the perilous depths of this abandoned planet.

To think he had aligned himself with a band of Marauders.

Yet, despite this long-awaited reunion, there wasn’t a trace of joy or warmth in anyone’s eyes—only endless detachment and sheer hostility.

Especially from Rain.

”What are you doing here?”

The question came cold and sharp from Rain. Nyl stroked the trigger with his thumb, as if finding Rain’s question entirely redundant.

They were here to raid, of course.

”I thought you’d greet me first,” Nyl murmured smoothly.

Bunny glanced at Rain, then at Xander, before turning around to exchange equally bewildered looks with Brandon.

Seriously, who in the world is this guy?!

Rain drew the combat trench knife from his belt, his tone low, heavy, and laced with icy violence. ”There’s no longer any need to greet you.”

Nyl didn’t bother wasting breath either. Knowing full well how deeply Rain despised him, he merely tilted his head with an indifferent air.

”In that case... let’s get to it.”

In an instant, conflicting torrents of intense spiritual pressure crashed forward like surging tides. Xander tightened his grip on his laser sword handle and immediately snapped an evacuation order to Brandon.

”Take her and leave! Drive out of here now!”

Brandon couldn’t fathom why their vice-captain, despite his formidable strength, was ordering him to retreat with Bunny first. Nevertheless, he obeyed instantly, scooping Bunny into his arms to make their getaway.

He understood the reason soon enough.

The oppressive spiritual pressure emanating from that blonde Sentinel was fully equal to Xander’s own.

They were Sentinels of the exact same rank!

Moreover, the strength of the punk-styled man beside him was by no means to be underestimated.

The enemy held the upper hand in numbers, which was precisely why Xander had ordered him to fall back with Bunny first.

In this desolate area, their own kind could be far more terrifying than alien beasts. Marauders were the very definition of violence and bloodshed—if Bunny were to fall into their hands, the outcome would be beyond unthinkable.

They would force her to perform spiritual cleansing repeatedly, draining every last drop of her spiritual energy until she was completely hollowed out, then toss her aside to fend for herself.

Unlike organized forces, Marauders—accustomed to wandering as solitary, ruthless mercenaries—were never kind enough to waste precious resources sustaining a low-combat-capable Guide.

”Rain! Xander!”

In a panic, Bunny tried to scramble down from Brandon, but he had already slammed the accelerator, sending the vehicle roaring forward.

Nyl cast a subtle glance at the punk-styled man, who caught the signal instantly and led several henchmen to charge straight toward Bunny’s direction.

”Hold on tight!”

Brandon threw the steering wheel into a sharp down-slope turn. The sudden shift slammed Bunny back into her seat. Looking through the reinforced window, she spotted several enemy squad members giving chase on sand motorcycles.

Their objective was her!

Forcing herself to calm down, Bunny racked her rifle, chambered a round, and did her best to steady her rapid breathing.

She immediately fired off distress signals to all her teammates as well as the warship headquarters, synchronizing their real-time coordinates. The moment she finished, the pursuers’ vehicles were already bearing down right in front of them.

A torrential hail of armor-piercing bullets rained down against the hull. Fortunately, the armored vehicle boasted formidable defenses; amidst the deafening pitter-patter of bullet impacts, Bunny fought to maintain her balance in the violently jolting cabin.

Tapping the tactical tablet, she locked onto the vehicle’s onboard laser cannons and rocket launchers.

Aim... and fire!

BOOM!

A rocket scored a direct hit on one of the motorbikes, shattering its frame into a wreckage of flying debris as the rider plummeted heavily onto the wasteland.

Yet, for these Marauders to have survived in such a brutal environment meant they were anything but easy targets.

In no time, they pulled up side-by-side with the armored car, firing relentlessly—Bang! Bang! Bang!

Cracks quickly spider-webbed across the side windows. Staying passive like this meant being battered to death; they needed an edge.

”Brandon, steer right!”

The terrain to the right was jagged and complex, ideal for breaking their line of sight.

Bunny ducked to dodge a first volley of gunfire before hurling a high-explosive grenade out the hatch. The resulting shockwave shook the heavy chassis violently.

Taking advantage of the chaos, she leaned halfway out and sprayed automatic fire at the lead motorcycle.

Seeing her move, Brandon jerked the wheel sharply, ramming the enemy on their right directly into a massive outcropping of rock.

Unable to swerve in time, the rider crashed headlong into the stone, flipping the bike as a pillar of flame erupted into the sky.

Four motorbikes still clung to their tail. They launched heavy grappling hooks, embedding them deeply into the armored car’s rear tires.

The drag mounted instantly. Forced to act, Bunny kicked open the top hatch and mounted the heavy machine gun.

For a split second, Bunny felt like a frontline gunner straight out of a war movie holding off an invasion.

Suddenly, a Sentinel possessing an eagle spirit beast swooped down onto the roof of the vehicle. He slashed his combat knife toward Bunny’s thigh, aiming to cripple her mobility.

Bunny rolled across the roof, engaging him in a desperate melee atop the high-speed, wind-buffeted vehicle.

Elbow strikes, kicks, joint locks...

She deployed every single combat technique she had learned in her martial arts classes—including cheap, low-hitting dirty tricks.

Yet, the raw physical disparity was simply too great. Before long, the Sentinel pinned her down under his knee. Just as he raised his fist to knock her unconscious and haul her away, Chopper—Brandon’s white canine spirit guide—pounced forward, slamming into the Sentinel and biting clean through his fingers.

”Argh!”

As an agonized shriek cut through the air, Bunny didn’t waste a millisecond. She scrambled up and delivered a spinning backkick that knocked the Sentinel right off the vehicle roof.

However, leaving the rear tires hooked was a recipe for disaster. Brandon had to step in to handle the pursuers latched onto the back.

”Bunny, keep driving east! Don’t stop no matter what!”

Brandon handed the steering wheel over to Bunny and dashed toward the rear of the vehicle to engage the encroaching enemies in hand-to-hand combat.

Bunny had only taken a few basic driving lessons for armored vehicles—taught to her by Sunny. Thrown into the deep end like a helpless duck, she felt utterly overwhelmed and exhausted.

Her driving was nothing short of a nightmare—swerving wildly, swaying side to side, and pulling zero-radius drifts that turned the stomachs of the Sentinels clinging to the rear, making them retch up bile.

Suddenly, a heavy thud dented the engine hood violently inward. The punk-styled man crouched right in front of the windshield, glaring at Bunny through the glass as he spat out a curse:

”Do you even know how the f*ck to drive?!”