Chapter 123
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 123
Technological progress always accelerates.
It's the same in any industry. Once a new standard emerges, compatibility with the previous generation gradually declines.
The data chip sector is particularly notorious for this. Generational shifts and standard changes happen so rapidly that after just a decade or two, ordinary people can't even begin to work with them.
Let alone the chip I'd brought, which dated back to the era when Agatha Custoria and Noel Mulrizka were still active.
Gilda stared at the holographic screen, searching the network for the chip's specifications. But with clues proving elusive, her eyes only narrowed further.
"If there's not even a trace of information on the net... hmm."
"It was probably produced before the Empire settled on Planet Novas," I added.
Gilda's eyes went wide, and she knit her brows in a rare display of frustration.
"You should have told me that sooner! We're not talking one or two hundred years here—this is something from three centuries ago. Still, it definitely fires up my competitive spirit."
Gilda rolled up her sleeves and headed into the back room. She returned carrying an armful of musty, dust-covered books.
Thud!
She dropped the stack onto the table, sending a small cloud of dust billowing into the air.
"Look for anything that looks identical or similar. See these numbers and letters here? If you find a model with matching codes, tell me immediately. It'll mean they're from the same manufacturer or share the same standard."
Judging by the covers and titles, they were all reference books on electronics.
Gilda and I cracked open the books, our eyes scanning the pages rapidly.
Flip, flip, flip.
I flipped through the pages far faster than she did. Gilda shot me a surprised glance before refocusing on her own book.
I finished an entire volume in about thirty seconds. Even with my abilities, reading every word at this speed was impossible—but cross-referencing serial numbers and diagrams was a different story.
"Ugh... wh-what happened?"
Meanwhile, Gabriel sat up, clutching his head.
"You got completely wasted and passed out. Pace yourself next time."
I spoke without looking up from the pages. Gabriel rubbed his stiff jaw and tilted his head in confusion.
"R-really? I fell and knocked myself out? No, wait—I feel like there was something important... Dammit, what was it?"
Gabriel blinked blankly. I tossed a book at him and repeated Gilda's instructions word for word.
"Start looking for matches. It's important."
Still dazed, Gabriel began flipping through the pages with his thick, clumsy fingers.
Gilda's hand slowed. She looked back and forth between the chip and her book.
"I think I found it. Hold on."
Gilda was indeed the first to unearth a clue. Leaving the old book open, she sat before her holographic terminal. She dragged and swiped at the floating displays, overlaying data streams onto a single screen.
"No wonder it didn't show up! By the standards of its era, this thing could easily bypass the highest security clearances, and its capacity is absolutely massive thanks to interlocking layering.
"Interlocking layering is a stacking method, but it fits together like puzzle pieces to minimize empty space, so the thickness... ah, well, you probably don't care about that. Anyway, it's a chip that condenses the absolute peak of that era's technology to an almost excessive degree.
"Because of the astronomical price tag, there was barely any demand, so it was only produced in extremely limited quantities. It feels like a product made purely to show off their technical prowess.
"The manufacturer even created a special, top-tier category called 'OOPArts' just to classify this chip. Though by today's standards, it's no better than the cheap junk you can find lying around on the streets."
Gilda spoke with mounting excitement, adding that it could fetch a remarkably high price on the market.
"So what you're saying is, it's worth a fortune?"
Gabriel, who had been listening with a blank expression, suddenly perked up at the mention of money, his eyes gleaming.
"Can you extract the data?"
My only concern was the contents.
"It's possible if I line up computer terminals from different generations and bridge the data step-by-step through compatible standards. Once we convert it to a standard from about fifty or a hundred years ago, reading it won't be an issue. But there will be data loss and corruption. I don't know what's inside, but if it's a program, there's a chance it won't run properly. Plus, the security protocols are..."
Gilda went on to explain why the process would be so tedious, but I didn't pay much attention. I intended to leave the technicalities entirely to her.
"Ah! I remember now! Luka, you bastard!"
Gabriel bellowed, his memory finally catching up with him.
"If you want to punch me, go ahead. I'll let you have a free shot."
"That's not the point! But fine, I'll let it slide this time. Since you actually used that smug mouth of yours to say... sorry!"
Gabriel emphasized the last word with dramatic weight. I felt a sudden, burning urge to retract my apology—but spoken words couldn't be unsaid.
Clatter! Thud!
Gilda was busy hauling out ancient electronic equipment that belonged in a museum from her storage room. Completely ignoring us, she threw herself into her work.
"So you grew up in an orphanage and ended up adopted by a noble family? You really are something else. No wonder you never felt like a real noble young master. It felt so off, hearing a guy who looks like a total gutter-born rat call himself a noble."
Gabriel nudged my shoulder with his. As if he hadn't had enough, he pulled out another beer and offered one to me.
"It was too complicated to explain. That's why I didn't mention it."
My throat was dry, so I accepted the bottle. It tasted more like juice than actual alcohol, making it easy to drink. I didn't feel even a hint of a buzz.
"Still, you could've told me, Luka. I was actually hurt."
Gabriel grinned, his anger completely evaporated.
Gabriel is a failure of the Lower District.
When I first met him, his cybernetic body was completely out of balance. It wouldn't have been surprising if it suffered a catastrophic malfunction at any moment. Living like that, he wouldn't have lasted another two or three years. It was a predictable end.
He spends his days drinking and fooling around, and whenever he gets his hands on a lump sum, he squanders it within days. A short-sighted idiot.
That was why Gabriel could never climb out of the gutter, why he lived the life of a loser. He belonged to the exact category of people I despised most.
Had we not shared a history and a bond, I wouldn't have even considered him a fellow human being. In fact, that was exactly how I'd treated him at first.
...But now, I didn't hate him. Nor did I want to look down on his life.
It's funny, really.
Simply because I knew someone, I found myself willing to overlook their flaws. Once, I would have despised such hypocrisy, viewing it as pathetic.
Well, I still find Gabriel pathetic at times... no, not just at times. Almost constantly.
Yet even this pathetic version of Gabriel wasn't so bad.
To put this complex sentiment in simpler terms: if Gabriel died, I would grieve.
"Luka, see this wing tattoo?"
Gabriel pulled down his coat, exposing his back. Etched onto his heavily scarred shoulder was a wing tattoo that looked entirely out of place.
"You don't have to show me. I have zero interest in staring at a man's bare back."
"Gabriel's a common name, right? My mom got this inked on me so she could find me. Apparently, Gabriel is the name of an angel or something."
"How fitting. I didn't know angels were all such handsome specimens."
"Hey, I was actually pretty good-looking before my face got ruined. Let's see how you look after three reconstructive surgeries for facial fractures."
"Good for you, having a built-in excuse for being ugly."
"Man, I really want to beat the shit out of you. If you were even a little bit weaker than me, I swear..."
Gabriel clenched and unclenched his fists, swallowing his irritation.
"Well, at least you remember your mother's face. That's something. Don't get me wrong—I'm not jealous. I'm not that sentimental."
"I wasn't actually born in Akbaran. To be precise, the Empire isn't even my homeland."
I paused, turning to look at Gabriel's profile.
This was unexpected. The Empire's databases weren't so meticulous as to keep detailed records of every gutter-born citizen's history. Its surveillance network wasn't that thorough.
"Are you from Kora or Bellato?"
"Neither..."
Gabriel grinned, pausing for dramatic effect. He was clearly trying to build suspense.
"...I was born in the wastelands. I'm a Nomad. We lived free."
Gabriel spoke with clear pride. It made me want to take him down a peg just to be petty.
"You mean those homeless vagrants who wander around without a proper roof over their heads?"
"Why, you—!"
"Just kidding. I know. It's surprising, though—a Nomad."
It was a word one rarely heard.
On Planet Novas, there existed wandering groups that belonged to no nation. They were called Nomads. It was generous to even call them a faction; the term was simply a collective label for various small, scattered communities. Consequently, they had almost no political presence.
Furthermore, the Nomads were a multi-species coalition where humans made up only a fraction of the population. To the human-centric Empire, they were nothing but an impure element unworthy of diplomatic relations.
I only knew of their existence in passing.
"I was only four or five at the time, so I barely remember anything. Looking back, I think my clan was about to embark on some highly dangerous venture. That's probably why they paid to dump me in an Akbaran orphanage. Since I haven't heard from them in over twenty years, they're likely all dead."
Fortunately, he hadn't been kicked out of the orphanage for being a non-Imperial Nomad. A boy named Gabriel had died in an accident, and the orphanage director, eager to keep pocketing the government subsidies, had simply swapped their identities. It was a common piece of administrative corruption.
From then on, Gabriel's life had been no different from that of any other boy in Akbaran.
He failed to meet the military aptitude requirements during his selection test and was sent to a vocational school. After a brief training period, he was dispatched to a construction site, only to lose both of his legs in an industrial accident and face immediate termination.
This is the first time I'm hearing this part of his story, too.
Gabriel recounted his past in a remarkably calm voice.
"So, out of spite, I broke into the boss's safe. Since I didn't have legs, my upper body was light, which made it surprisingly easy to scale the walls. I used that stolen cash to buy combat prosthetics. Didn't even check for compatibility—I was in such a rush I just told the doc to bolt them on. Looking back, I got incredibly lucky. I even managed to beat down the security guards sent to kill me with those very legs."
After drifting through life like that, he had eventually ended up here.
"I used to be pretty confident in my fighting skills. Until I met you, that is. I'd never been thrashed so miserably in my entire life."
Gabriel stared down at his hand. His arm was a crude, heavy block of metal. He, too, had repeatedly replaced his limbs in a desperate bid to grow stronger.
I quietly sipped my beer as I listened.
The reason Gabriel was sharing all this was simple. Since he had learned about my past—regardless of how he found out—he felt it only fair to share his own.
"You were just unlucky. It's not every day you run into someone like me in the Lower District."
I set down my empty bottle.
"No, I think I was lucky. After all, things turned out alright in the end. See you around, Noble Hunter Luka."
Gabriel stood up with a chuckle. Shoving his massive hands into his coat pockets, he strolled out of the workshop.
I stared at the door he had just exited, lost in thought.
Creak.
Ten minutes later, the door creaked open again. At first, I assumed Gabriel had forgotten something and come back.
Whoosh.
A biting wind swept through the open doorway. The sun was setting, which explained the chill—but that wasn't the source of the sudden dread pooling in my stomach.
My heart, which had just begun to warm, froze solid. My eyes narrowed as I stared at the man standing in the doorway.
...Kinuan.
Kinuan casually slipped off his coat and took a step into the workshop.
"Ah, Luka. You're here too. Gilda, it's been a while. I see you're busy, but do spare a moment for a greeting."
Brushing past me, Kinuan took a seat.
...Think, Luka. Why is this monster here?