The Spider's Web (3)
How will the enemy come at me next?
This wasn't over. Not by a long shot.
There were the ones who had sent those soldiers, and there were plenty more soldiers still waiting on the other side. With six of their men dead, roughly ninety officers and troops remained aboard the ship.
I already knew this vessel was starved for powered armor, but the real problem was their weapons. If they came at me carrying anything above laser-grade equipment — plasma weapons, say — my odds of winning would dwindle to almost nothing.
Even a sub-adult couldn't stop a plasma weapon.
Once I acquired the Physical Enhancement Type, I might survive two direct hits at most. Before that stage? No trick or maneuver would save me. One hit and I'd simply die.
And it made sense. By design, plasma weapons were high-yield ordnance developed with fleet warfare in mind. Weapons meant to destroy starships and tanks — their raw firepower was staggering.
The catch was that most plasma weapons were too heavy for a single person to lift. Lightweight variants did exist, but they cost a fortune — the kind of price that made your eyes fall out of your head.
The only thing likely to be aboard this ship is a Plasma Launcher.
The Plasma Launcher was a heavy weapon Mega Corp issued at one per squad. Honestly, judging by how abysmal the supply situation here was, I doubted they even had one — but you never knew.
Tricking them the same way again won't be easy.
A substantial chunk of my hand had been revealed. Unless they were fools, they wouldn't fall for the same trick twice. I might manage to handle a few stragglers whose nerves had frayed, but deceiving a force of ninety was impossible.
Arnold won't stop until he's confirmed my death.
Unlike the incompetent leader Yu Seong, Arnold was a soldier through and through — the scheming kind, at that. I didn't know what his plan was, but one thing was certain: he would try to kill me before we reached C-08.
So I strike at the head. Here. Now.
If there was ever a moment for a lightning war, it was this — before the enemy could regroup. Hit their command structure first, before they hit me.
As it happened, the department heads and senior officers were all gathered in the situation room. If I stormed it and cut them down, the enemy's chain of command would collapse into complete chaos.
Decision made, I abandoned the corpses and sprinted toward the bridge.
Halfway there, I glimpsed soldiers dashing the opposite way through a ventilation duct that had been torn open in the floor. Their destination was the place A1 had reported — the agricultural section.
They assumed I was preparing to hole up and make a last stand. A completely wrong read. While the soldiers rummaged through an entirely irrelevant corner of the ship, I was already standing practically on top of them.
Beyond the wire mesh of a wall-mounted vent, I could see gleaming white floor. The cleanest space on the ship after the laboratory — the situation room.
Against the marble-like floor, the walls displayed a dusky expanse of open space. Cameras mounted on the hull were feeding the view outside in real time, which was why it looked that way.
The people inside the situation room, oblivious to that beautiful vista of dancing stars, were shouting over one another in a panic.
"Crisis Management Team Leader! Where did that insane monster even come from? No — forget that, what in the world is the thing?"
He wasn't visible from my angle, but Yu Seong's voice alone told me he'd spiraled into full-blown panic. Not far from him, Arnold's voice rang out.
"...I don't know. When I checked the Materials Management Team Leader's manifest, there was an organism in the cargo database that had never been registered. It may well be that creature."
"How dare you make such an irresponsible statement! I lent you a powered suit meant for team leaders, and you came back with nothing to show for it!"
So that was the team leader model. A powered suit is a lifeline in space — you'd think he'd have spent a little more money.
If there had been even a few more mid-grade powered suits — or better yet, if they'd possessed so much as a single high-grade suit — I could never have hunted this easily. In trying to cut costs, Yu Seong was about to cut his own life short.
Perhaps thinking along the same lines as me, the Crisis Management Team Leader Arnold let anger bleed into his voice as well.
"If our equipment had been just a little better, Captain, this massacre would never have happened."
"What did you say?!"
"And your claim that we gained nothing is wrong. We now know the enemy is a highly intelligent, dangerous organism — one capable of mimicking a human voice."
"And you call that a gain?!"
"Intelligence gathering is more important than anything on a battlefield. We've obtained information on the enemy. All that remains is to build our counter-strategy around it."
"...Tch."
There was a trace of irritation in it, but Arnold's voice didn't waver. Yu Seong, with nothing left to say in reply, could only click his tongue.
"So. Do you have a plan?"
"I've already dispatched the soldiers, but I have one additional request."
"Which is?"
"Give me authorization to use the Plasma Launcher in the armory."
"What?!"
The Plasma Launcher. I'd wondered if they might have one — and it seemed they actually did. Judging by the tone of the exchange, it hadn't been issued to every squad, but still.
The Plasma Launcher was a magic wand that solved most problems, but the department heads reacted to the idea with open distaste.
"Are you insane? That weapon is reserved for fighting the pirates!"
"We're inside the ship! I don't care that this warship was converted into a research vessel — firing a Plasma Launcher indoors is madness! If you're determined to die, go float outside the hull and do it alone!"
"Silence!"
When the Navigation Team Leader and Technology Team Leader started squawking, Arnold roared them down. They faltered for a heartbeat — then threw themselves right back at him.
"You're shouting at us now?"
"Firing a Plasma Launcher aboard this ship is absolutely unacceptable!"
Up to this point, Arnold had delivered excellent results no matter what task he was handed, but this operation had been a catastrophic failure. As a consequence, his charisma had crumbled beyond repair. A very Mega Corp reaction — results were everything, and he had none to show.
About time I made my move.
The superiors were shrieking at each other, bereft of reason, while the subordinates dithered over whether they should try to calm things down. The enemy was mired in confusion — the perfect moment to sever a cornered prey's throat.
Amorph's delicate auxiliary organs began their sweep. The target: every movement occurring inside the situation room.
The feelers at the tip of my jaw twitched, groping through the air — and a torrent of information came crashing over me, like a surging river of stars.
The electromagnetic noise and heat bleeding from computers and electronics, the faint mechanical whir of precision components every time the ship's AI cycled, human breathing, the whisper of fabric brushing skin, the smell of sweat, the tremor of muscle, the thud of hearts, the rush of blood through veins.
It was a world no human being could ever perceive. Peering through the dimensional lens of my Super Sense, I began selecting my mark.
Arnold was the priority target, of course, but he stood too far from my position. He knew I traveled through the vents — he had deliberately stationed himself far from them.
Then the one closest to me is...
The information that resolved itself belonged to someone familiar — a face I'd seen several times before.
A man with a half-bald head and a meek, timid expression. His name was Wei.
The man who had become acting research team leader in Kisaragi Yujin's place — and who, to this very day, tortured No. 26 every single day.
Him. He's my target.
I had always meant to kill him eventually. A golden opportunity had just strolled right up to me. It would've been rude to refuse.
I smashed through the vent's wire mesh with a combat arm. The thin alloy grid shattered to pieces against the limbs my juvenile body had strengthened.
The AI would send out a warning signal — but people, not machines, would have to respond. Everything would be over before they so much as glanced at the AI's report.
I poured power into my legs, reinforced by the Leg Strength Enhancement trait. My body launched upward as though I'd stepped on a coiled spring. While I hung in the air, Arnold was the first to react to the sound of shattering mesh. His gaze snapped toward the ruined vent.
His eyes went wide. Recognizing the ambush, he opened his mouth to bellow a warning — but by the time that shout left his lips, one man would already be dead.
Because I was already above Wei's head.
Only after my body slammed into him did he react. Riding his shoulders, I bit into his face.
My teeth, keen as razor blades, shredded his face in seconds. The skin hung in ribbons, and his eyes and nose were mangled beyond any hope of function.
"Gaaaaghh—!"
Wei, his face flayed while fully conscious, let loose a scream drenched in agony — and the other team leaders, who had been watching dumbstruck, went white with terror.
"U-Uwaaagh! It's a monster!"
Leaving Wei to collapse face-first onto the floor, I lunged at another team leader beside him, staining Mega Corp's trademark cheerful uniform with blood and gore.
"Aaaaagh!"
"S-Save me!"
"Comms officer! Warn the whole ship!"
Couldn't let him do that. I stopped shredding the team leader and turned my head toward the communications officer.
"Heeek?!"
Unlike the soldiers who'd charged into the vent passages, he clearly had very little combat experience. One look at my blood-soaked form and he froze solid, unable to move a muscle. I had no intention of going easy on him, so I pounced.
"Uwaaahh— kck!"
I threw my weight into toppling him, then finished him with my tail. The barb on my tail — now grown to the length of a short sword — punched through his eye and drove on until it wrecked the brain behind it.
As I retracted the tail from the hole it had bored through his skull, an energy bolt streaked in from somewhere and slammed into my back.
I turned. It was Arnold, a small laser pistol clutched in his hand.
An officer's sidearm, presumably.
Surprising — I'd expected him to run. I gave my tail a great flick, shaking off the blood that clung to it.
Perhaps out of some sense of professional pride, he didn't retreat; he fired again. I twisted lightly out of the bolt's path and closed the distance.
No powered suit, and he still has the guts to stand his ground?
His uniform was the same as the other team leaders'. A soldier's colors, though — red rather than white — but with absolutely no protective function whatsoever.
Which meant that if I so much as swung my arm, his upper and lower body would part company, and his blood would paint the white floor red.
"G-ggghkk..."
Having finished off the moaning Wei beside him with my tail, I coiled myself, ready to spring at Arnold.
The instant I pushed off with my legs, my auxiliary organs convulsed violently.
My body rose into the air.
Arnold fired his pistol too late — every shot went wide.
My tail tore through his abdomen.
He drew the Plasma Pistol from his crotch holster.
I tried to dodge — but my tail was still buried in his body. I could not.
The plasma bolt obliterated my head.
I died.
Damn it!
The scenes flashed past at blistering speed, like a video scrubbed forward dozens of times. The future-sight effect of my Predator Sense.
A Plasma Pistol?!
Arnold was carrying a weapon I never could have anticipated.
The Plasma Pistol was one of the very few plasma weapons that had ever been successfully miniaturized. Its killing power was superb while its weight was light as an ordinary handgun — a phenomenal weapon by any measure. It had exactly one flaw.
The price was beyond astronomical. That single pistol was worth as much as three of this very ship. Unless you belonged to Noble Capital or Prime Capital, you could live your whole life without ever laying eyes on one.
Damn it — so he really does have ties to the Yujin family.
That money-guzzling monster of a gun could kill me. A hit to the head or chest meant instant death; even a graze meant a critical wound at minimum. I had to move carefully.
The moment my movements grew cautious, Arnold narrowed his eyes.
"So you've caught on."
He drew the Plasma Pistol from his crotch holster — a slim, silver weapon shaped like an ordinary handgun. Yu Seong and the other team leaders, who had been cowering in the corner watching us, let out shrieks that were half scream, half gasp of awe.
"A Plasma Pistol?!"
"That weapon costs a fortune!"
The tension Arnold had worn only moments before fell away like it had all been an act, replaced by an easy smile.
"I don't know what you are, but you remind me of something. Someone I've seen before."
Grrrrr...
"A monster that wields all manner of abilities. You resemble my master, the honorable Sihyeon Yujin."
As he spoke, his muzzle swung toward me. My auxiliary organs were running at full capacity, reading his body before he moved — and I hurled myself aside in an instant.
A green bolt of light detonated exactly where I'd been standing. The alloy plating — plating that could shrug off asteroid fragments in open space — blew apart in a single hit.
"All variables will be eliminated before she arrives."
Dodging his fire, I dove behind a bank of computers.
We stood in the bridge. It was a critical facility, so he couldn't fire carelessly — but there was no telling how long I could hold out. Time was not on my side. Everyone aboard this ship was my enemy, and the longer I dragged things out, the worse my position became.
The situation is bad.
This was the greatest crisis I had faced since being born in the cargo bay. There had been plenty of things threatening my survival, but never before had death loomed this close.
No.
To be precise — never since I had possessed Amorph's body.
I've survived dangers far worse than this.
In Space Survival, worst-case scenarios had been a daily meal. Back then, had I ever given up? Had I ever been defeated?
Neither. The one left standing at the end was always me. Amorph.
'Eliminate the variable,' is it?
Arnold was wrong.
Whoever came to greet us at that rendezvous — it wouldn't be a nobody like Arnold standing there to meet them.
It would be me.