Chapter 60
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 60
Ilay had been running consecutive missions lately. Sometimes he'd take on back-to-back assignments without even returning to base. It wasn't the method the training center recommended, but it was actually closer to real combat.
'In real combat, you can't always maintain peak condition.'
More often than not, you had to fight fierce, back-to-back battles while completely battered. That was why military combat prosthetics prioritized durability just as much as raw output. Without durability and reliability to back it up, no amount of output made a limb usable in actual combat.
Ilay bragged to me about the finest trophy he'd claimed while running his various missions.
...The moment I saw what it was, my eyes widened.
Beyond the glass window, I saw a "metallic creature" hooked up to all kinds of electrodes and cables.
Researchers bustled back and forth beside us, busy monitoring it. Signals of unknown meaning traced graphs across the screens.
'A machine beast.'
A beast made of metal and machinery instead of flesh and blood. It was a creature occasionally discovered on Planet Novas, but its ecology remained a mystery.
Grrr...
The machine beast let out a low growl, looking utterly exhausted. It had a sleek, wolf-like frame. Its long tail, however, split into three branches, each ending in a sharp point. Judging by the shape, it seemed to use its tail as a weapon.
"You have every right to boast," I said honestly.
Capturing a machine beast alive was no easy feat. For one, chemical anesthetics didn't work on them. On top of that, they had electromagnetic shielding hides that made electronic neutralization extremely difficult. I'd have to read Ilay's report later to see how he'd pulled off taking this thing alive. I was genuinely curious.
"Fascinating, isn't it?" Ilay peered through the glass with an excited grin. I could read pure curiosity in his face.
"Are machine beasts connected to the Arcane civilization too?"
Even though he'd changed, Ilay was still Ilay. His obsession with the Arcane civilization was probably as fierce as ever.
"Well, it's not confirmed, but the odds are high. Even though they're made of mechanical parts, their structure is as delicate and complex as any living organism. There are even rumors they grow and reproduce over time, though nobody knows by what mechanism."
Ilay rattled on excitedly. Since I had no interest in the details, I let his words go in one ear and out the other.
Ilay went over to a researcher to talk about the machine beast. I watched the creature trapped in its glass cage, waiting for their conversation to finish.
'A creature born with a mechanical body.'
It didn't need to gradually adapt to a cybernetic prosthetic body the way we did. The machine beast possessed an electronic brain and nervous system perfectly suited to the body it was born with.
Chrrk.
The machine beast lifted its head and looked in my direction. It had two pairs of eyes. Perhaps because they perceived different wavelengths of visible light, the glow from each eye was a different color.
It was an intriguing thing just to look at. Mechanical, yes, but different from a rigid android. It showed all sorts of involuntary movements, just like a living organism. Its eyelids blinked periodically to wipe its lenses, and its three-pronged tail swayed gently.
"...Can this thing be tamed?" I asked out of nowhere.
The researcher burst out laughing.
"We can't give a definitive answer on whether it's possible, but so far, there's no precedent."
"I see," I said, taking a step back from the glass. The machine beast turned its head away too, as if it had lost interest in me.
We left the laboratory.
"This is probably the last time I'll ever see that guy. It's being transferred to a research department directly under the Imperial Family."
"You mean shipped off to a different prison, not just transferred."
That machine beast would never see its homeland again. It would end its life locked away in some unknown place as a test subject. I wasn't pitying it. I was just stating plain fact.
"Ah, and here's the second trophy. Consider this a gift. Congratulations on making it big as a young master of the Custoria family."
"I can't tell if you're being sarcastic or sincere."
"I'm being sincere, you jerk."
Ilay pulled out a knife. Its sheath was black leather, and it looked incredibly thick and tough.
Whoosh.
Ilay drew the knife and spun it, tossing it from hand to hand. His movements were flashy and quick, like an acrobat performing a trick.
"Bone?"
Mid-display, I recognized the material. Ilay stopped and held the knife out toward me.
"It's a weapon from an alien I killed this time around. You know the Equesians, right? Famous as a mercenary race."
"I've heard the name."
I stared at the knife. The hilt was wrapped in cord and leather. The bone blade was an eerily pristine white.
"Only commander-class Equesian warriors carry a knife like this. Not only is it rare, it has high artistic value too, so it apparently fetches a steep price among collectors."
"It certainly looks the part."
My eye for art was below average, but even I could tell the knife was no ordinary object. To put it bluntly, it looked expensive.
"It's carved from the bone of a native beast that lived only on the Equesians' homeworld. They're extinct now, so you couldn't get one even if you wanted to. It was an extremely ferocious, powerful beast, and any Equesian who managed to hunt one down with nothing but a spear or a sword was hailed as a Great Warrior among their kind."
Ilay explained its origins. I understood it was a precious thing—naturally, since it could never be obtained again.
I took the knife and ran my fingers along the blade.
"It looks ceremonial. Can it actually be used in real combat? It's just bone, after all."
"Watch closely."
Ilay took the knife back and struck it against his own blade.
Clang!
A crisp ring echoed. The bone knife didn't break. But the edge chipped slightly, leaving a hairline scratch.
"You said it was precious—"
I cut myself off. The scratch on the blade was healing on its own. Like regenerating cells, the hairline crack and the chipped edge filled back in.
"In the Equesian native tongue, it's called 'Grakken Boot.' It doesn't translate perfectly, but in our language it means something like 'immortality'? No—more like 'Eternal White.'"
Ilay tossed the knife—the "Grakken Boot"—to me. Since Grakken Boot was a mouthful, I decided to just call it Grakken. Its original meaning was none of my concern anyway.
Swish.
I spun the Grakken knife, catching it in alternating hands. It was surprisingly light.
"They say nano-sized organisms live inside the bone in a dormant state. When it takes an impact or gets damaged, they wake up and restore the bone to its original shape. Through some special process, the Equesians locked that restored shape to the blade's form."
"...It's like magic."
"I'm making a big concession, handing this over to you."
I stared intently at the knife, now returned to its pristine white. The scratch had vanished as if it had never existed.
It wasn't a weapon with devastating power. But it was certainly something any warrior would covet. It wouldn't be strange for my eyes to gleam with greed over it.
"I'll put it to good use."
Grakken Boot—Eternal White.
It was a meaningful gift. Everyone loves eternity, immortality. We want our names to go down in history, and we don't want our limited lives to reach their end.
...We wish for the bonds between people to last forever, too—friendship or otherwise.
But we know. The reason we long for eternity and immortality... is because we cannot have infinity. Fame, life, the ties between people—all of it is finite.
There is one truth in the universe. Even the universe isn't eternal; it's marching toward its end. Someday, everything will finish. Needless to say, the same goes for us—nothing more than specks on a star. Our lives are but a flicker of existence, not even amounting to a mote of dust.
You're being sentimental today, Luka. Well, it couldn't be helped.
It was the first time I'd ever received a meaningful gift from anyone.
* * *
I belatedly checked the documents Nikolaos had sent via hologram.
The founding and closing dates of the ghost companies I'd requested, along with the owners' names, appeared one after another. When I rolled my eyes over a name and focused my pupils on it, that person's profile popped up.
'There's far more here than I expected. He really does handle things thoroughly.'
There was even information I hadn't asked for. Nikolaos had already finished investigating whether the owners of these ghost companies were real people or fake identities.
I felt a strange sense of obligation, as if I owed Nikolaos something in return. The information was just that excellent.
I focused on the hologram again. It even laid out the flow of funds—something that would have been near impossible to uncover through the Lower District's information networks. Every ghost company was moving money through a web of tangled, complicated routes. It was what people commonly called money laundering.
Under various pretexts—cleaning, supply delivery, security—the ghost companies funneled money out of the Arena and converted it into legitimate funds. To avoid tracking and investigation, the vast majority of these companies didn't stay active long, shutting down within a year or two.
I combed through the documents Nikolaos had sent, from beginning to end.
An investigation of this scale in the Lower District couldn't be done in a day or two. It was the kind of work that normally demanded months—maybe even years.
'If, by some stroke of absolute luck, I actually become the Family Head of Custoria...'
He was worth keeping at my side rather than purging. As long as he didn't turn hostile, he'd make an excellent chief of staff and advisor. He had abilities I lacked.
Of course, becoming the Family Head, Lucaus Custoria, was an extremely unlikely future. The walls I'd have to scale for it were far higher than any I'd climbed so far.
'P.S. During the investigation, the outline of the final destination for the ghost companies' funds started to take shape. I think I can pin it down if I dig for a few more days. I'm doing this because I find it interesting, so you don't need to feel indebted.'
That was a note Nikolaos had tacked onto the end of the document.
"I really am deeply indebted—truly."
Nikolaos was being this generous because he'd already figured out what kind of person I was. I was someone who found it hard to just wipe my mouth clean and pretend a favor never happened.
'Alright. Then until Nikolaos sends the additional results, I'll set this matter aside...'
I wanted to tackle the homework Kinuan had left behind.
'The next stage of the Akies Combat Style.'
Ever since I met Ilay Kartika, I'd been dogged by a constant sense of anxiety. Ilay was making rapid strides, day after day. He was honing his combat abilities through countless real battles.
It wasn't as if I was just sitting idle either. But what I was doing now was far removed from actual combat. Perhaps, at this very moment, I was weaker than Ilay.
I knew Ilay's talent better than anyone. The bastard was right on my heels, chasing me with everything he had.
I liked Ilay. But I hated the thought of losing to him. If he ever surpassed me, I was certain I'd hate him with every fiber of my being. At least, until I made myself stronger than him again.
I accessed the Imperial Guard network to reserve a private training room.
Beep.
The terminal chimed, and a message popped up.
For a very rare moment... I was utterly shaken. As shaken as I'd been when a comrade died right beside me on the battlefield. In fact, the change in my expression was probably even more severe than it had been back then. Since this wasn't the unique environment of a battlefield, the hormones that turned me into an aggressive psychopath hadn't kicked in.
'Obituary...'
Someone among my acquaintances or relatives had died. It was the very man whose name I'd been muttering to myself just moments ago.
'...Nikolaos Custoria.'
Nikolaos was dead.