Chapter 106
Chapter 106
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 106
Chapter Title: Assault on the Small Campsite
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'So it really is a small campsite.'
As the dead pilot had said, the encampment wasn't all that large.
Adding up the people wandering around and those detected by my auxiliary organs, there were barely ten in total.
The problem wasn't the numbers.
'There's a Walker.'
A six-meter-tall open-frame bipedal combat machine lay dormant beside one of the tents in the campsite.
Walkers were robotic weapons used by the Star Union.
The model here was a Light Walker, employed for reconnaissance and infantry support.
As an open-frame design, its defenses were abysmal, but it made up for it with stormguns mounted on both arms, boasting tremendous firepower.
'No cyborgs in the campsite.'
Walkers required a cyborg pilot to connect via a special device called a Brain Connector, linking mind and machine.
No faint electromagnetic signatures unique to cyborgs were detectable nearby, so it seemed someone had modified the Walker for regular human use.
Moreover, the campsite's Walker had a stormgun only on its left arm, while the right was replaced with what looked like a crane mechanism. Probably retooled for resource gathering and cargo transport.
'No wonder they attacked so boldly. They must've felt confident.'
Pirates rolling out a modified Walker alongside a Cult cruiser.
If a small outpost like this had a Walker, their main base—home to the boss or underboss—likely had far more.
And who knew what other weapons they might possess beyond that.
'They've got reason to be cocky.'
With this level of firepower, they'd rank among the top cartels even in games.
Enemy or not, I had to acknowledge they were a formidable foe.
'Doesn't mean I can't take them.'
I summoned my swarm of Tooth Fairies, then quietly descended from the tree.
As I approached the campsite perimeter, pirates stood guard, eyes blazing with vigilance.
I sent the Tooth Fairy swarm to the opposite side and had them make some noise.
"Hm?"
The moment he turned at the rustling sound,
"Mmph?!"
I seized his head with an Assimilation Tentacle and yanked him back sharply.
Only his gun remained, abandoned and lonely in place of its owner.
"What the hell? Where'd that bastard go?"
"Hey! Did he go take a piss?"
Moments later, two more pirates approached. I fired barbed bristles at the one in the rear.
"Ack?"
As he clutched his nape and collapsed, I closed in on the other.
"Huh? Wha—?"
The instant he turned at my footsteps, my Bone Axe cleaved into his shoulder. He split clean in two.
Leaving the steaming heat rising from his spilled guts behind, I stepped into the encampment.
A pirate sat by the central campfire, roasting meat.
Earphones plugged in, he hadn't noticed a thing from behind.
I approached right up to his back and engulfed his entire head in my gaping maw.
The panicked pirate thrashed, but his resistance didn't last. I crushed his skull alive between my jaws.
Just then, a Cult pirate emerged from a tent.
"Huh?"
Grrr...
The goat-horned Cult stood there blankly, unable to process what he'd witnessed.
I swallowed the pirate up to his torso while swinging my tail.
"Gahhh..."
A barbed stinger lodged in his throat, he deflated with a wheeze and crumpled.
"U-Uwaaaah!"
Then, with a scream, another blood-soaked pirate burst from a different tent.
While I'd been handling the outer guards, Tooth Fairies had infiltrated the tents and attacked those inside.
The bleeding pirate spotted me and tried to flee in terror, but the Tooth Fairies didn't let him escape.
Flesh-eating Fleas bounced up, latching onto his back. Unable to bear the weight of dozens of bugs, he collapsed.
"Aaaah!"
"Who the fuck's making all this racket... Huh?!"
The pirates poked their heads out at their comrade's screams, only to recoil in horror at the slaughter I'd wrought.
I finished devouring the cook pirate and charged the one in the tent.
The force behind my five-meter bulk was terrifying. The tent shredded like bowling pins before a ball, and the pirates inside turned to pulp in an instant.
While his comrades were torn apart, one sneaky pirate managed to mount the Walker.
"You fucking shit! You're dead now!"
The pirate atop the Walker donned peculiar gear. Similar to reinforced suits but covering only the head and chest, with socket-like devices on the neck's rear.
'That's how he connects to the Brain Connector, huh.'
It wasn't in any game I'd played. Intriguing gear, but I'd examine it later.
The six-meter Walker rose, aiming its stormgun at me.
The piloting pirate grinned triumphantly.
He was doubtless convinced the uranium rounds in that stormgun would shred me.
But his hopes wouldn't come to pass.
Radio waves from the ridges on my back had severed the Walker's electrical signals, halting it dead.
"Wha—? What's going on?"
As the Walker buckled, the pirate yelled in confusion. The disruption wouldn't last long, so I extended my combat arm and dragged him from the cockpit.
"Guh!"
Flung limply to the ground by my hand, he vomited blood.
Wanting to leisurely inspect his gear, I paralyzed him with a stinger.
"......"
The last pirate stood trembling, aiming his gun at me. True to a rich pirate, it was a Gauss Rifle.
I turned my head, and he pulled the trigger. Tungsten rounds sliced the air, slamming into my carapace.
Bad luck for him—tungsten couldn't even scratch my hide. The flattened rounds clinked to the ground, leaving his jaw agape.
As I closed in, he stumbled back and fell. I raised my Bone Axe high.
"Wai—!"
Few survived a cleaved skull. With the final pirate dispatched, I recalled my Tooth Fairy swarm.
'Captured three alive.'
The rest were dead.
I gathered the captives and corpses in the encampment's center.
No one left to contact base—they'd soon realize their comrades were gone. They'd come before dawn.
'Might as well prepare a gift for their hard journey here.'
A gift called terror.
Originally, Space Dogs had no concepts like ranks or kings among them.
With every race mingled together, and cartel bosses too prideful to serve anyone even on death's door, subordination simply didn't exist.
That said, hierarchies between cartels were clear, so some grew powerful enough to approximate kings or nobles.
The Humanity cartel, which had arrived on P-101's Seintopia02 continent, was one such juggernaut.
Among Space Dog cartels, Humanity ranked in the top five—not just in name.
"Underboss."
"What?"
"No contact from Camps 21 and 17."
Dillon, the handsome underboss lounging and gnawing a meat skewer, furrowed his sharp brows at his aide's words.
"21 and 17?"
"Yes."
"That electronic pong-pong thing? You know, that stuff. Isn't it that?"
"If you mean the electromagnetic storm, it's not the season for..."
"You fucking punk, bragging about being smart in front of me?"
"N-No, sir."
At the curse from the slender, pretty Cult underboss's lips, the aide bowed instantly.
Dillon debated stabbing his subordinate's head with the skewer, then spoke.
"21 and 17. Those are the camps on the forest outskirts, right?"
"Y-Yes."
"No dangerous beasts there. Maybe remnants from those we shot down today?"
"I'm not sure..."
Dillon finished his skewer and waved him off.
"Send some grunts to check."
"A wise decision, sir!"
"I know, asshole."
The aide bowed and exited the tent.
A massive bonfire's glow illuminated the underboss's tent surroundings.
But it wasn't a simple campfire. One of Seintopia02's ancient Wolff villages, enduring centuries, now burned at the pirates' hands.
"Kyaaaah!"
"Uwaaaah!"
Cult and human pirates roamed, torching traditional homes or dragging out Wollfs inside.
Oddly, every looting pirate was strikingly handsome—ill-matching their brutality.
"Handsome ones go to the boss—keep 'em alive!"
"Got it!"
"Do what you want with the women!"
As someone shouted, pirates slapped electric collars on good-looking male Wollfs or children, capturing them alive.
"Sob sob, Protector God!"
"Urgh! Please hear our prayers!"
The Wollfs writhed in agony from the collars yet desperately invoked their deity.
This village wasn't weak enough for such humiliation. It was blessed by two guardian gods called the "Parents of All Things."
Yet for days, the "Parents of All Things" hadn't answered their pleas.
"They're at it again."
"Heh, idiots. The bitch they call a god already got fucked by the boss."
The guarding pirates mocked the Wollfs.
As they said, the village guardians had fallen to the Humanity cartel.
The male god, Father of the Earth, was beheaded by the pirate boss. The female, Mother of the Sky, was now a captive.
But the pirates kept silent. Watching the Wollfs cling to false hope in despair was too enjoyable.
A pirate approached the sub-aide surveying the plunder from camp.
He held a female Wolff and a child Wolff.
"What do with this Wolff pup?"
"Please, spare this child at least!"
"Not boss's type. Dispose."
"W-Wai— Kyaaaah!"
The pirate killed the child and dragged off the mother.
The Humanity boss despised women and ugly men, executing them with extreme cruelty.
Being gang-raped by underlings and burned alive here felt merciful by comparison.
The captive Mother of the Sky endured tortures that even terrified the pirates.
Of course, telling a bereaved Wolff mother wouldn't convince her.
Another subordinate approached the sub-aide, who fancied himself merciful.
"What'd the underboss say?"
"Sending some idle hands. Pick whoever."
"Yes, sir."
The subordinate left, and the sub-aide returned to work.
To gather tribute prisoners for the boss, he'd need to hustle before night ended.
An hour after meeting Dillon, ten heavily armed pirates boarded a shuttle to Camp 17.
Eight wore mid-grade reinforced suits; two piloted Walkers equipped with Plasma Launchers. The eight carried Gauss Rifles.
Armed to handle threats stronger than anticipated around camp.
"By the time we get back, no good eats left for us, huh?"
"Probably. Or swap with others."
"Fuck, that'd feel like fucking a corpse."
All ten were semi-forcibly drafted, grumbling, but no choice. Their boss and underboss were brutally sadistic.
The shuttle reached Camp 17 airspace and landed in a pre-cleared clearing.
"Scan for life signs."
"Nothing unusual."
Their shuttle had a bio-scanner fit for warships.
Humanity cartel held gene data on nearly all dangerous creatures on this planet, letting pirates check threats easily.
After a scan confirmed safety, they disembarked and rushed to Camp 17.
They still had no inkling of the camp's fate. At worst, a comms glitch from machinery.
But no mere glitch awaited.
No warm campfire, no rowdy pirate songs—just cold darkness and silence filling Camp 17.
"Something's off."
"Where's everybody?"
Finally sensing grave trouble, the pirates went on alert.
One scanning with helmet lights spotted ominous traces.
"Look at this!"
"What the—?!"
Massive bloodstains.
Splattered across the camp center, trailing into the forest.
"Battle stations!"
Utterly tense, they gripped weapons, advancing into the woods with Walkers forward.
The blood trail thinned, ending at a dead tree.
"Flew up?"
"Ridiculous. No carnivorous pteros come down here."
"True, but... Huh?"
A droplet fell on a pirate's shoulder. Thinking rain, he wiped it—only to see blood gleaming in his helmet light.
His palm was drenched crimson.
"......"
All eyes fixed on his hand. Swallowing hard, he slowly looked up.
And there, above.
Their "comrades" hung.
"C-Contact the underboss now!"
"N-No, the shuttle! Get the shuttle ready!"
"Shuttle! Respond! Emergency! Fly here now!"
Even the ruthless pirates quaked in terror at the sight.
Skinless pirates dangled from the tree.