Chapter 167
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 167
I’m sure I felt some aversion to killing at first.
But I’d long since forgotten when that feeling vanished. The moment I recognized someone as an enemy, I could kill them without the slightest hesitation.
Was it my innate aggression, or was it the training and enhancement procedures from my cadet days? I already knew the answer. It was both.
The past is the past. What I was like back then doesn't matter.
Right now, I am a combat machine—a human optimized for battle. One more step, and I will truly become a ‘machine.’
Bang!
The moment I pulled the trigger, a gangster who had just stepped onto the stairs collapsed. As long as I aimed in the general direction of his head, the bullet flew straight between his eyes.
The auto-tracking pistol was incredibly convenient. I didn't have to worry about aiming and could focus entirely on evasion and maneuvering.
Most importantly, it was the perfect tool for someone like me who wanted to reduce the load on his brain.
Thinking back, it was wise of me not to replace my eyes with cybernetic ones.
Cybernetic prosthetics, regardless of the body part, increased the load on the brain's nervous system, and high-performance prosthetic eyes were particularly notorious for it.
But biological eyes lacked that level of performance. Right now, I was missing a lot of visual data—so much so that even my retinal display couldn't fully compensate for it.
The gangsters spilled into the hallway and blindly opened fire. A fierce barrage of suppressive fire tore down the corridor.
Rat-tat-tat-tat!
I ducked behind the corner, waiting for the hail of bullets to subside.
Without prosthetic eyes, I couldn't instantly register basic specifications like the gangsters' weapon types, ammunition, or manufacturers. In the past, I would have processed all that information with a single glance.
As the volume of visual information decreased, the world’s resolution dropped with it. To observe anything in detail, I had to focus intensely, as if magnifying and correcting a blurry image.
Everything has its pros and cons.
With less visual data to process, my brain's endurance increased. Even though the combat hormones flooding my system had sped up my information processing, my head felt lighter than before.
Click.
I poked only my gun around the corner and waited. The firearm’s built-in auto-tracking system identified the enemies and calculated their trajectories.
Beep.
A "Ready" indicator flashed on my retinal display. Having acquired its targets, the pistol's muzzle shifted minutely, correcting its aim.
Bang! Bang!
I pulled the trigger twice in rapid succession. The pistol's dedicated ammunition had tail fins, allowing the bullets to curve mid-flight.
The projectiles traced elegant arcs before embedding themselves in the gangsters' heads. By now, they must have realized what kind of weapon I was using.
"Fuck! W-What is that?!"
"Auto-tracking? What kind of bullshit is this?!"
The remaining gangsters panicked. An auto-tracking pistol was an incredibly expensive piece of electronic equipment—a luxury item only the wealthy could ever hope to own.
The bullet velocity is slow, and the lock-on time is long.
Considering its price, it had several fatal drawbacks. Against superhumans with enhanced reflexes, it was a useless weapon.
Having identified my weapon, the gangsters took cover below the stairs, shouting to each other instead of advancing.
"Hey! Don't worry about what's happening out here! Just focus on the treatment!" I yelled toward the operating room.
Damn it, Gabriel. What kind of mess did you get into to cause me all this trouble?
Just thinking about him made me angry. I wanted to wake him up right now and slap him across the face.
"Let's call the 'Cleaner.' He'll take care of it."
The word "Cleaner" came up in their conversation.
No matter who came, I had to hold this position until Gabriel's treatment was finished. The tense standoff continued.
The three remaining gangsters didn't flee.
Can't be helped. It’ll get troublesome if they bring in reinforcements. I’ll thin their numbers.
I stepped out from my cover and advanced.
Whirrrr.
I expanded my senses, perceiving my surroundings in a complete circle.
As my thoughts accelerated and my perception sharpened, time stretched out like viscous honey.
The gangsters screamed at my approach, their voices sounding sluggish and distorted. They poked their gun barrels out and fired blindly.
Sway.
Watching their arms and muzzles, I predicted the bullets’ trajectories. As long as I didn't place my body in those lines of fire, I wouldn't have to worry about being riddled with holes.
Step, step.
I tilted my head. A bullet grazed my ear and slammed into the wall behind me.
I continued down the stairs as the gangsters kept pulling their triggers. Missing me every time, their bullets just peppered the walls.
"H-He dodged it?"
It had been a while since I'd heard such a shocked reaction. Even to me, their ordinary response felt refreshing.
Whir.
Strolling casually, I smashed the butt of my pistol into the nearest gangster's jaw. His jawbone shattered, and a spray of broken teeth rained onto the floor. One down.
"Y-You bastard!"
The gangster next to him bravely aimed his gun at my temple. I lightly extended my lead foot and kicked his hand and weapon skyward.
Crack!
The moment my foot connected, his hand was crushed. Before he could even scream, I reached out and grabbed him by the hair.
Smash!
I slammed his face into the wall. Two down. One left.
"A-Ah, aaaaaah!"
The last gangster threw down his weapon and bolted toward the window to escape.
Whir.
I raised the auto-tracking pistol and aimed it at him. A single pull of the trigger would put a hole in the back of his head.
I lowered the muzzle.
This wasn't the kind of fight I wanted.
How dull.
They weren't enough to satisfy me. It sounded insane, but I needed a formidable enemy, someone who could truly threaten my life.
My body, finally warmed up, felt stiff with unfulfilled desire.
It was driving me crazy. The half-baked stimulation only made my craving grow stronger. It felt like the threads in my head were tangling. I had the urge to press a revolver loaded with a single bullet to my temple and pull the trigger.
I remembered the days when I walked a razor's edge with my heart exposed to the world. I missed the harsh missions the Empire and the Imperial Guard used to assign me.
Stop these crazy thoughts. I can control myself.
Step.
I turned and climbed the stairs. I needed to check on Gabriel's condition in the operating room.
Ssssshh.
A sudden ringing, like a cold dawn wind, echoed in my ears. A chill ran down my spine.
"Ha..."
A short laugh escaped my lips.
The intuition of Akies Victima was sending me a warning.
It was a sensation so welcome it almost brought tears to my eyes. Though I couldn't pinpoint the exact reason, my life was in danger. Something was targeting me.
Analysis and understanding could wait. Now was the time to trust my instincts and move. In a razor-sharp combat situation where time itself was ground to a fine edge, logic and reason always lagged a step behind.
CRAAAASH!
The stairs beneath my feet exploded as a massive, rough hand burst through. A pair of bright yellow, feral eyes stared up at me from the darkness below.
Leap!
Before the stairs could completely collapse, I leaped upward and planted my feet on the ceiling. I dug my fingers into the plaster to secure myself before gravity could pull me down.
Hanging there, I looked down. Through the crumbling floor and shattered stairs, the enemy’s identity was revealed. This must have been the "Cleaner" the gangsters had mentioned.
An alien species.
A strange alien stood there, its extended arm covered in thick fur, its claws wickedly curved.
The creature had smashed through concrete with its bare hands and resembled a massive feline predator. The eyes of a fierce hunter stared back at me.
He was huge, his frame at least four times my own. His body, rippling with rugged muscle beneath the fur, was clad in a lightweight combat suit that covered only his vitals, accentuating his savagery.
A Crawler.
I muttered the name of the feline alien species. They were a combat race, much like the Equesians. If the Equesians were cold steel, the Crawlers were molten rock.
"Grrrrr..."
The Crawler's low growl reached my ears. The wild, gamey scent of the beast assaulted my senses.
I am human. Since ancient times, humanity has feared wild beasts. This was instinct. Regardless of our relative strength, a freezing sensation washed over me.
Interesting.
I was probably smiling. My fingers twitched.
Gun or blade.
Which should I choose?
No. Never mind.
Clench.
I clenched my fists and dropped.
* * *
A brutal exchange of blows erupted. I parried his claws with my limbs and struck back in kind.
Honestly, it was incredibly fun. Every time a ringing impact seeped into my bones, the world seemed to light up. I truly felt alive.
Still, not using a weapon might have been arrogant. The Crawler's body withstood the full output of my prosthetic arm and leg—enough force to shatter concrete.
He seemed to be a fairly strong individual, even among Crawlers.
But I am no ordinary human. I am a former elite soldier of the Akresia Empire, one of the ruling powers of Planet Novas.
No matter how skilled a back-alley cleaner might be, he was still just a gangster.
Creak, creak.
I massaged my neck and rotated my shoulder. The vibrations from my prosthetic arm, which I had pushed to its maximum output, made my muscles ache and throb as if my joints were screaming.
"Thanks to you, I had quite a bit of fun," I said, tilting my head. I had no idea if he could understand me.
The Crawler sat slumped against a cracked wall. The heavily injured beast's breathing was faint, a sound ill-suited to his massive size. Despite having his bones broken and muscles torn every time my fists and kicks landed, he had fought back tenaciously.
In the end, the Crawler only stopped after sustaining injuries so severe he was physically unable to move. His vitality was incredible. Any other species would have died long ago from such wounds.
His durability is top-notch.
I touched my flank. A mere graze from the Crawler's claws had shredded my coat and clothes, tearing deep into my flesh. When I slipped my fingers into the gaping wound, I could feel the warmth of my internal organs.
"Hmm."
I climbed back up to the operating room where Gabriel and the medical staff were.
"H-How... are you... alive...?" the doctor stammered, his eyes wide.
The Crawler's roars had been deafening. Everyone in the building must have heard the sounds of our battle.
"How is he?" I asked, rummaging through a cabinet of medical supplies. I spotted an injector filled with liquid bandage.
Pshhh!
I inserted the nozzle into the wound on my side and sprayed. The white liquid solidified, sealing the injury from the inside out.
"H-He seems to have passed the critical stage. But this was just symptomatic treatment, so we don't know when his condition might worsen. He needs a thorough examination at a hospital with better facilities..."
The doctor babbled the obvious, his legs trembling violently in terror.
Tossing the empty injector aside, I caught my breath. After the fight with the Crawler, my violent impulses had subsided significantly.
I stood beside Gabriel. I could feel that his condition had stabilized.
His complexion looked much better, a healthy color returning to his face. Syringes and a defibrillator lay scattered around the operating table.
"Hey, wake up. I don't want to carry you on my back for a long walk. You'll probably attract flies," I said, patting Gabriel's cheek. His eyebrows didn't even twitch.
"H-Heh! Eek!"
The doctor gasped and scrambled into a corner. He wasn't looking at me.
"Grrrrr..."
I turned my gaze to the door.
The Crawler I had beaten half to death was standing there. He was barely holding himself up against the wall, but his resilience was astounding.
"What? You want another round?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.
The Crawler shook his head.
"Grrr."
He gestured with his head toward the hallway, as if telling me to follow. It seemed he was offering us a safe house. It was a gut feeling, which meant it was probably correct.
"I have to bring my 'friend,' too," I said, gesturing toward Gabriel with my chin.
"Grr."
The Crawler approached and hoisted Gabriel onto his back. If I had tried to carry him, his feet would have dragged on the floor. But on the Crawler's broad back, it looked perfectly natural.
As we stepped out of the clinic, two gangsters who had just arrived as reinforcements watched us from behind cover.
"Krrrrrr!"
The Crawler bared his teeth, showing blatant hostility. Flustered, the gangsters pointed at him.
"Y-You're the Cleaner!"
"Just a mere Cleaner..."
They only spat curses, not daring to attack.
The Crawler in front of me was a beast who had survived my onslaught. Ordinary firearms wouldn't be enough to stop him.
"If you go inside, you'll find your injured comrades," I said, pointing toward the clinic and giving them an excuse to avoid a fight. "Even in the back alleys, you should look out for your own."
The two gangsters exchanged glances before slowly slipping inside.