Chapter 162
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 162
I listened to Japa's explanation of the Hwagwang Yedo. The story piqued my interest.
"...There is a certain romance to the technology in Border City."
"You mean madness, not romance."
Japa laughed, not bothering to deny it. Even during my short stay, I'd already come to understand the reason for Border City's existence.
Border City was crawling with people who yearned for unproven, cutting-edge technologies.
Here, humans from the three nations mingled with all sorts of other species, pushing the limits of science without any censorship or regulation.
Infinite freedom is extremely dangerous. No nation would want to leave a volatile bomb ticking right in the middle of its capital.
'That's why Akbaran left the Lower District as a breeding ground. The sweetest fruit is always born of chaos.'
Border City was a necessary evil for the development of Planet Novas. Even if they failed a hundred times, a single brilliant breakthrough made it all worth it. Border City would pay the price of sacrifice and chaos for those failures, while the leaders of each nation and species would swoop in to claim the successes.
"The Galactic Artisans were one such group of romantic craftsmen. They received massive investments from wealthy warriors and collectors. Using that capital, they purchased a unique Unobtanium called Ignium to forge swords. That was the birth of the Hwagwang Series."
Inside a glass display case mounted on the wall, a single-edged sword boasted an elegant curve. Below it rested its matching scabbard.
"So, what's the catch with this weapon?" I asked, stepping closer to the display case.
"Unobtanium literally refers to metals that cannot be artificially refined or synthesized. Though not exactly the same, they are also categorized as rare metals. The most prominent characteristic of Ignium is thermal amplification."
"Skip the useless lecture and just tell me what it does," I cut in, sensing Japa was about to launch into a long-winded explanation.
"It coats the blade in plasma energy. With the right knack, even a beginner can easily cut through metal. However, unskilled users frequently ended up slicing off their own limbs while swinging it. The accidents that occurred when they lost their grip on the sword were equally horrific."
I let out a dry chuckle.
"That's common with any weapon that enhances cutting power. It's the same with monomolecular blades. Is there an issue with heat control?" I quickly cut to the heart of the matter.
"...In actual combat, the biggest issue was the damage and explosions caused by heat accumulation. Even the craftsmen of the Galactic Artisans didn't foresee this. Unable to withstand the intense heat, the blade would shatter and scatter, shredding the user's face. Sometimes, the weapon itself would explode, consuming the wielder along with it."
I tilted my head, staring at the sword.
"Heat dissipation is the most basic design element of any thermal weapon. And they call themselves craftsmen? I guess Border City is full of people who are craftsmen in name only."
"The Galactic Artisans did conduct internal testing and deemed it viable for practical use. But no matter how smart people are, there are always blind spots missed due to differing perspectives. That is why one must gather experts from various fields. In any case, the problem with the Galactic Artisans was that they didn't have any warriors among them."
—To be precise, they didn't have any top-tier warriors. That's why they made such an absurdly foolish mistake.
En chimed in from behind me. It seemed to be a fairly well-known story.
"Hoyoo... En is correct. The people who would use such high-performance melee weapons are warriors who have reached the realm of superhumans. The Galactic Artisans didn't realize just how fiercely those superhumans fought.
"These are people capable of deflecting bullets, bombs, and even energy projectiles with a single sword. Because of that, the heat accumulated several times faster than the manufacturers had anticipated. To make matters worse, the users actually liked it at first because the plasma effect became even stronger."
"Haha, a disaster waiting to happen."
No matter how grand the theory or how meticulous the plan, they ultimately came from mortal minds. Reality always exceeded their expectations.
"In less than a month, more than half of the buyers were either dead or crippled. Naturally, the Galactic Artisans, having sold defective products, faced brutal retaliation. It was the price of their arrogance, believing they could control a volatile substance like Ignium. The remaining Hwagwang Series are now held by collectors who don't actually use them in combat."
As soon as he finished speaking, I raised my arm and slammed the bottom of my fist against the display case.
Crash!
The glass shattered, cracks spiderwebbing rapidly across the surface. The fractures spread densely like ice crystals before the display case, losing its structural integrity, collapsed with a loud crash.
"Weapons aren't meant for decoration; they're meant to be used. Destruction is their destiny. After all, they were born to take lives and destroy."
...Just like me. It would be terribly hypocritical for someone who thrives on destruction to seek only safe things.
I gripped the hilt as shards of glass rained down around it.
"I will prepare a better weapon for you," Japa offered.
—It's no use. You can tell just by looking at him that he's as stubborn as a Tarpa. Once he makes up his mind, he won't change it even if his head is about to roll.
En chuckled, his shoulders shaking.
"This is all your fault, En! This is no laughing matter. Of all things, you had to bring up the Hwagwang..."
I spun the sword around and snatched up the scabbard.
Shhk!
The blade slid smoothly into the scabbard. The weight distribution was excellent, and the craftsmanship was superb. It was, by all accounts, an absolute masterpiece.
"I like this one. Now that we know the cause of the defect, it just means there won't be any issues as long as I control the heat accumulation, right?"
Seeing my resolve, Japa nodded helplessly, having nothing left to say.
* * *
I equipped my combat prosthetic and my new weapons. I also received a decent pistol.
Japa's support was even better than I'd expected. Even for the incredibly wealthy Japa Trading, handing over these items couldn't have been an easy decision.
Japa and I conversed in a luxurious drawing room. The floor was covered in a thick carpet that completely swallowed our footsteps, while the walls were adorned with expensive-looking artwork and the stuffed head of some unknown beast.
"Japa, how much do you know about Kinuan?" I asked, leaning back on the sofa. En wasn't present. It was just Japa and me.
"Mr. Luka, I have not pried into every little detail about you. People of our standing naturally have many things to hide. What matters is what we give and what we get in return.
"I believe I have shown you sufficient goodwill. If you still insist on digging into my secrets—which are no different from my weaknesses—under the guise of not trusting me, I cannot help but feel offended. Is there any reason why I should trust and rely on you unconditionally?"
Well, I was momentarily at a loss for words. What would Kinuan have said in response? I felt completely outmatched in this battle of words.
I raised my hands in a gesture of surrender.
"You're right. There's no need for us to pry too deeply into each other's business. You invested in me because you want to find Kinuan. And I, too, want to find Kinuan for personal reasons. That's all that matters."
"You must not kill Kinuan. Bring him to me alive. That is the only thing I ask of you."
I tried to read Japa's emotions, but catching the emotional signals of a non-human species was still difficult. I needed more experience and study regarding the Tajirun race.
"Aside from finding Kinuan, I have my own personal goals."
"Is it regarding Giselle Custoria's disappearance?"
I wasn't surprised. I figured Japa would have deduced at least this much.
'Japa has done a lot of research on me. He must have realized from the circumstances that Giselle was paying for my medical treatment.'
I nodded, waiting for Japa to continue.
"Hoyot. In truth, I investigated Giselle Custoria's whereabouts to use as leverage in our deal, but..."
Despite his clumsy demeanor, Japa was highly calculating. I had to assume he was always one step ahead of me.
"And?"
"...I also inquired about Akies Victima. It is a very peculiar combat style—or should I call it a way of thinking?"
"Both are correct."
"Those who have mastered Akies Victima generally possess investigative skills far superior to others. However, that is ultimately just an exceptional ability to synthesize information. If the information itself is a blank slate, you cannot create something out of nothing. It is not like the Force, transcending physical phenomena. I like that it is a realistic ability, strictly within the realm of logic and understanding."
Japa understood Akies Victima perfectly.
Tap, tap.
Without realizing it, I was tapping my foot against the floor. My anxiety was manifesting physically. The words, 'So, what about the information on Giselle?' rose to the tip of my tongue.
'If I were my old self, I wouldn't have let such common emotional signals slip so easily.'
I quickly reflected on my behavior, conducting a cold self-assessment.
I was definitely not my former self. The abilities I used to perform instinctively, ingrained in my muscle memory, did not come naturally anymore. It felt like I was studying from a textbook, practicing and relearning everything step by step.
'How did I used to hide my emotional signals before...?'
I had forgotten, simply because it was an ability I used to employ as naturally as breathing.
"I have hired five Akies Victima users so far."
Japa slid several photographs onto the table. They showed horribly mutilated corpses, one after another. The grotesque sight of mangled flesh mixed with machinery was enough to make the faint-hearted recoil in horror.
"They died chasing Kinuan."
"This is Kinuan's warning. A message telling people not to pursue him. I will hand over the information I've gathered on Kinuan to you, along with the records of your predecessors."
"And?"
I clasped my hands over my knees, closely observing Japa's every movement and word.
"Even if you start investigating Giselle Custoria now, it will take you a long time to reach the clues and information I already possess."
"So you're offering information on Giselle Custoria as my performance bonus?"
"Indeed. After all, you do not seem like a man who is motivated by mere wealth."
How much did Japa know about Giselle and me? My feelings toward Giselle were a glaring weakness, far too easy for others to exploit.
I didn't want those feelings exposed. Therefore, it was best to end the conversation here.
Slide.
I reached my hand forward.
"The deal is made, Japa."
Japa carefully shook my hand, minding his sharp claws. True to his cold-blooded nature, his reddish-brown skin was freezing, raising goosebumps on my arm. A physiological revulsion, difficult to suppress even with reason, welled up inside me.
"Welcome to Japa Trading. 'A family-like company' is our corporate motto."
* * *
I needed rehabilitation.
'Why did Kinuan kill the Emperor?'
I thought to myself as I walked alone through the night streets.
'The final remaining question.'
I could understand the motives and actions of others. But Kinuan alone continued to plague my mind.
'Was it really Kinuan who killed the Emperor?'
I hadn't seen it with my own eyes. The Emperor's official cause of death was old age.
Yet, circumstantially, it was a certainty. If Kinuan hadn't killed the Emperor, then even that must have been part of his design—making me believe that he did.
The Kinuan inside my mind was a bloated monster. The more I thought about him, the larger he grew. It felt as though he was looking down at me, laughing even now.
I raised my head and looked at the desolate street. Every city had its slums and high-crime districts.
This was a sinister street, a place where crime seemed to gather as if it had legs of its own. I intentionally stepped into a dilapidated back alley.
Clatter, clatter.
My foot kicked a discarded can. The sound drew immediate attention.
Sensing danger, my five senses gradually sharpened. Anyone could attack me at any moment. The number of eyes watching me from the dark alleyways and cracked windows multiplied.
I felt their gazes as clearly as if they were connected to me by physical threads. Even the intensity of their malice and hostility seemed distinguishable by the color of those threads.
My mind was satisfyingly sharp. I felt as though I could easily dodge even if the people watching me right now unleashed a hail of bullets. It seemed my brain was still of some use.
'Why is Kinuan in Border City?'
He had left the Empire and was now hiding in the territory of the Bellato Federation.
'Why?'
Thinking so deeply made my head ache. I felt a throbbing pain at the bridge of my nose.
'Take it slow.'
Today is rehabilitation, Luka. You have to start by taming your brain.
I lifted my gaze from the ground. A man was standing right in the middle of the alley.
Clank!
A metallic sound rang out as he cracked his knuckles. The man's fists were as hard as hammers, and he was massive.
'Gabriel?'
No, it was an illusion. He was less ugly than Gabriel. He just had a slightly similar build and aura—that distinct, scummy vibe of a back-alley thug.
"Hey, pal. You gotta pay a toll to pass through here. Did you take a wrong turn? If so, I can guide you..."
The fake Gabriel babbled as he approached me. He slung a heavy arm over my shoulder, a greasy smirk playing on his face.
"Did I take a wrong turn?" I asked dryly, staring straight into the darkness.
"No, no. Not that wrong. After all, you met me, pal. Wow, those shoes and that coat look pretty nice."
The fake Gabriel said, patting my chest. He tapped my chin with a thick, calloused finger.
"How is Gilda doing?"
"Huh? Gilda? Hmm, Gilda? Who's that? Is that my ex-girlfriend's name? Just kidding, buddy. Did you get dumped or something? Your girlfriend's name is Gilda?"
The fake Gabriel spouted some silly remarks as he slipped his hand inside my coat. He pulled out the pistol from my inner pocket, and his eyes immediately widened. A heavy electronic component was attached to the bottom of the firearm, a soft light pulsing through its visible circuits.
"A-an auto-tracking pistol? Why do you have something like..."
The fake Gabriel seemed genuinely frightened. The certification mark of the auto-tracking system was boldly stamped on the side of the barrel. It wasn't a weapon an ordinary person would carry around.
"Take five steps back and aim at my head. It's in lethal mode, so even a rough aim will send a bullet straight between my eyes."
"No, no. Hey, pal. I-I'll give this back. Ah, shit..."
The fake Gabriel hurriedly tried to slip the pistol back into my coat.
Crack!
I extended my leg and stomped down hard on his left knee. The biological joint shattered effortlessly, exploding outward as blood splattered onto the ground.
"Aaargh! Ugh! I-I'm sorry, boss! Boss! P-please spare me! Gasp, cough!"
The surrounding presences vanished one by one. Realizing I was someone they shouldn't mess with, the watchers scrambled to hide themselves.
"Gabriel, don't make me say it twice. Aim at me and shoot."
I took a step back and tapped the space between my eyebrows. The fake Gabriel, clutching his broken leg, glared up at me, his face twisted in venomous rage.
"Fuck! You crazy bastard! If you want to commit suicide... go die alone!"
He raised the auto-tracking pistol and aimed it at me. In lethal mode, the bullet would automatically track toward a vital spot.
I heightened my concentration. If I couldn't even do this, I might as well just die here.
Bang—!
By the time the gunshot echoed in slow motion, it was already over.
...You survived today as well, Luka.
Sizzle!
I caught the bullet between my fingers. Pinched tightly between my index finger and thumb, the bullet spun, emitting acrid smoke.
The warhead of the tracking bullet was longer than a standard round, equipped with tiny tail fins at the back.
Clink.
I dropped the bullet, now completely devoid of kinetic energy, onto the ground.
Exhilarating. The colors of the world seemed to sharpen. Only now did I feel truly alive. I really am beyond saving.
The fake Gabriel stared at me blankly, utterly speechless. He seemed to have completely forgotten his pain, his mouth merely twitching open and closed like a fish out of water. He didn't even think to pull the trigger again.
"Hmm, the performance is good. It flew precisely toward my forehead, which made it easy to catch."
I snatched the auto-tracking pistol back from his limp grip and slipped it into my coat.
"I-I am Gabriel. My name is Gabriel!"
He cowered, trembling violently. I walked past him without a word.
Step, step.
The refreshing sensation was fleeting. The world, briefly brightened by the temporary stimulation, quickly plunged back into dull darkness. That goddamn depression, clinging to me like a leech, began eating away at me once more.