Chapter 227
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 227
Earth is humanity's homeland. Any longing for it, however, is little more than a faint whisper in our genes.
No, I doubt I even have that much. My ancestors for the past five generations weren't born on Earth.
I, like all citizens of the Empire, share the bloodline of a desolate exile planet called the Ark. To survive in a barren environment hostile to all life, our ancestors chose cybernetic prosthetics to enhance themselves.
...You're rambling, Luka.
Earth, the Ark—none of that matters right now.
Modern humanity's home is Planet Novas, the melting pot of the universe where humans and countless alien species mingle. And at its very center lies Border City.
Kinuan, Kinuan, Kinuan...
The man stood amidst the crowd as if he were the very core of Border City itself.
If Border City is the center of Planet Novas, and Kinuan is its core... does that make him the protagonist of this entire planet?
It was an absurd, ridiculous thought.
But let's indulge the delusion for a moment. What if Planet Novas is the center stage of this universe?
The universe, Planet Novas, Border City, Kinuan.
Moving toward the center, being the center, becoming the center—as if he was the center.
A single point named Kinuan had been plotted at the center of my universe, and everything I was revolved around his gravitational pull.
Was I trying to say the universe revolved around him?
Yes, a sickeningly absurd delusion. But that was the weight of Kinuan's presence.
The moment I laid eyes on him, my thoughts scattered. My brain glitched, failing to trigger even the most basic combat reflex. Neither reason nor instinct knew how to react.
Even my aggression, my greatest weapon, won't surface. It feels like my hormone glands aren't just blocked—they've run completely dry.
I forced a mechanical combat reflex. The output of my prosthetic body began to surge.
I thought I would lose control the instant I saw him.
But I hadn't. Too many complex emotions tangled the space between us. Even the timing and circumstances of our meeting were bizarre.
Grit.
I walked toward Kinuan. Everyone else faded into the background. I shoved my way through the crowd, pushing people aside.
"Hey, watch it— cough. Argh! Ah!"
The wrist of a man who tried to grab me snapped. I ruthlessly cast people aside as I pressed forward.
A dull blade named Luka was drawing closer to Kinuan.
I, I, I...
I muttered through trembling lips. Don't let Kinuan dominate your mind. Don't think the way he wants you to—!!
But what if even this anger is exactly what he intended?
Oh, for God's sake, kill that stupid fucking thought, Luka! How long are you going to live crushed under the weight of the Kinuan you've built in your own head?! You pathetic, brainless piece of shit!
So, please, just don't lose.
Squelch!
I raised my pinky and dug it into the wound on my forehead—the spot where the drill had bored a hole. The gauze fluttered away.
Squelch, squelch.
Blood welled from my forehead and trickled into my eyes.
"Haa, haa. Listen up, you stupid brain."
I didn't even know what I was doing anymore.
"If you surrender before the fight even starts one more time... I won't just scratch you. I'll shove my finger all the way in and turn your soft pink flesh into mince. You are not me. I am Luka. You are just a component. So act like one and perceive reality as it is. Stop trying to trick me with delusions and illusions."
Here I was, sticking a finger into my own brain and muttering threats at it.
You've finally lost it, Luka. This was the kind of behavior that would land me a VIP room in a psychiatric ward for the next century.
Sssss.
And yet, my fading grip on reality snapped back into focus. My hormone glands finally kicked into gear.
My brain has finally recognized Kinuan as an enemy.
Across from me, Kinuan watched with an amused expression.
I channeled my surging aggression, honing it with conscious intent.
Hummm.
The blade within my mind was sharp enough to kill him.
I came to a halt.
I stood directly in front of Kinuan. We were almost the same height. In fact, I might even be slightly taller now.
"It's been a while, Instructor."
I glared at him as I spoke.
"I'm glad to see you looking so well."
"If I look healthy to you, you might want to get new eyes."
Kinuan chuckled, his shoulders shaking in a distinctly human reaction.
"Such a lively reaction proves you're living a vibrant life. I've missed conversations like this."
I stared at him. It was definitely the real Kinuan. He might have a full-body prosthetic, but he was no mere robot.
He was using the exact same worn-out prosthetic body from twelve years ago. Even the minor scratches and scuffs were still there.
Why did you show up in your actual body?
I almost wished the Kinuan before me was just a highly sophisticated decoy. If he were playing cheap tricks, I could finally stop holding him in such awe.
"The student surpasses the master. You never cease to amaze me. Why don't we get a quick bite at that food stall over there?"
Kinuan pointed toward a stall packed with people. A sharp, pungent aroma wafted from it, though I couldn't tell what they were cooking.
"I don't think we're on terms to sit down for a meal..."
"Don't be so cold. Giselle used to love the noodles from that stall."
Ah. Finally. That name rolled off his tongue. Every hair on my body stood on end.
I closed my eyes.
...Reach out and snap his neck. Pop his skull open like a tin can and pull out his brain. Slice through that pink dough to find Giselle's whereabouts.
Good. I stopped the visualization there. A sweet, mouth-watering fantasy.
I opened my eyes, shattering the illusion.
Let's be realistic. Even if I ripped his brain out right here, I probably wouldn't be able to extract any information from it. I had no technical proof, but my gut told me so.
I was confident no one could extract memories from my brain, and the same undoubtedly applied to Kinuan.
"...Come to think of it, there's no reason we can't catch up. But you're paying, Instructor."
I gave him a fierce grin.
"I may be unemployed, but I'm not so shameless as to leech off my own student."
We walked over to the food stall.
Murmurs, chatter, slurping, chewing.
The stall was packed to the brim, with not a single empty seat in sight.
"Oh, look at that. Two seats just opened up. Doesn't it seem as though the universe cleared those spots just for us?"
Kinuan gestured with his chin.
"What a coincidence. Exactly 'two' seats."
I grabbed the shoulders of two men sitting at the counter. They looked like typical street thugs, which meant they'd probably be quick on the uptake.
Creak!
The motors in my prosthetic hand whined as I squeezed, my fingertips digging deep into their flesh.
"You guys are done eating, right? Places like this rely on fast turnover. Hurry up and beat it."
I leaned in between them as I spoke. Blood began to seep through their shirts where my fingers dug in.
"Ack—ugh! Yes, yes! We're done! We're finished!"
"Shit, that hurts! I said we're leaving! We're getting up, damn it!"
The two men scrambled up, clutching their bowls and chopsticks. They grumbled, but they had clearly picked up on the lethal vibe radiating from Kinuan and me. As expected of street thugs, they knew when to fold.
Thud! Thud!
The stall owner shook the excess water off a batch of boiled noodles and glanced at us with complete indifference. He looked like he saw this kind of thing every day.
"Two fire-rat stir-fried noodles."
Kinuan said as he took a seat.
"Fire-rat?"
I repeated, sitting down next to him. My voice was casual, but my mind was racing.
"Rat meat is a delicacy in Border City. I take it you've never tried it."
The food arrived almost instantly.
It was a heap of noodles tossed in a fiery red sauce, topped with chunks of chopped rat meat.
At first glance, it looked less like food and more like an instrument of torture. I dabbed a tiny bit of the sauce onto my tongue with a chopstick, and an intense, searing heat immediately flared up.
"This isn't a flavor. It's pain."
"Did you know the regions of the brain that process pain and pleasure are located right next to each other? It wouldn't be an exaggeration to call them the same organ. That's why pain breeds pleasure, and pleasure breeds pain. Look at the ecstatic expressions on the faces around us. They're achieving pure bliss through sheer pain."
Even now, Kinuan couldn't help but play the philosopher. I narrowed my eyes and picked at the noodles, eating in tiny bites.
"Save the lecture. From now on, you answer my questions. We're not far from the Japa headquarters. A man of your caliber wouldn't rely on the mercy of a former student to keep himself safe. If you actually harbored such a naive delusion, then today is the day the journey of the man named Kinuan comes to an end."
I dialed up the output of my prosthetic body. It wouldn't take even a second to tear him apart.
Thrummmmm.
The food stall's counter vibrated under the high-frequency hum radiating from my body.
"I know you want to know about Giselle's whereab—"
"I said I ask the questions, Kinuan. This is my last polite warning."
"I have only one thing to say. Giselle's whereabouts are—"
Kinuan was deliberately pushing my buttons.
I reached out to grab the back of his neck and slam his face into the counter. But before my hand could connect, a sudden, bone-chilling sensation sliced down my spine.
Sssss.
Guided by pure instinct, I shifted my gaze.
Thud. Clatter.
The movements of the diners around us froze. Chopsticks slipped from limp fingers, clattering onto bowls, the counter, the floor.
Creak.
The owner's hand stopped mid-slice. His cleaver remained embedded in the moldy cutting board, perfectly still.
Hummm. Hummm.
A faint, high-frequency hum hung in the air.
Drip.
A thin, crimson line began to bloom across the necks of everyone present, from the stall owner to the patrons.
They're all dead.
Assassins so skilled that even I had barely detected them were blending seamlessly into the surrounding crowd. They were professionals, leaving absolutely no trace of their presence.
No, even for professionals, their presence is unnaturally transparent.
I couldn't figure out why just yet.
As I always say, Akies Victima cannot create something from nothing. It is a cognitive technique that only operates within the boundaries of my existing knowledge.
"You're right. I may be old, but I haven't grown so weak that I'd rely on your sentimentality."
Kinuan popped a piece of rat meat into his mouth. The wet, squelching sound of him chewing echoed in the sudden silence.
"So that whole bit about growing weaker was a lie? Well, I suppose it's a pointless question. There's no use trying to separate truth from lies when dealing with a man who has become falsehood incarnate."
"Excellent. You truly are a student who understands ten things when taught only one. Of all the Akies Victima users I have trained, none have ever surpassed you. And that is the absolute truth."
"You're as generous with your praise as ever."
I gave a dry, cynical smirk, but then my nose twitched.
The scent of blood was growing thicker.
The thin red lines on the necks of the owner and the patrons widened, the flesh slowly parting as the wounds began to gape.
The slightest nudge would send their heads rolling. Our conversation would only last until that happened.
"These are Deadronin. Even you would have trouble detecting them. They are quite unique in many ways."
I was familiar with the term Deadronin.
It was the name of a security firm that had popped up when I was digging into Kinuan's background in the Lower District. Of course, these assassins weren't actually employees of that company. It was likely just a term Kinuan liked to use.
"Valek too?"
"Hmm, ah, Valek. Right, I almost forgot about him. Valek was the weakest of the Deadronin."
A few faint chuckles rippled from the passing crowd. Creepy bastards.
Drip.
The stall owner's head looked ready to slide off at any second. The blood around his neck had pooled into a thick, dark collar, and his shirt was completely drenched.
I had so many questions for Kinuan, but we had wasted too much time testing each other.
"The ones you've trained look pretty troublesome, but let's see what they've got. My Equesian mercenaries are more than capable themselves."
I stood up. Slipping my hand inside my coat, my finger hooked around the trigger of my auto-tracking pistol.
It'll be a tough fight, but it's a gamble worth taking.
Sensing the shift in my aura, Kinuan set his chopsticks down and looked up at me.
"...Let's trade. Information on Giselle, in exchange for Paolo Quan's legacy."
Kinuan finally laid his true cards on the table.